~
Out in an alley by the house, I repeat the steps that Noir had gone through, tapping a few buttons before getting to the screen of dimensions.
"Oh! It automatically saves your travel history! Sick as." I mumble to myself, typing in Hobie's dimension code that he had sent me earlier.
A gateway to Earth-138 forms before me, flashing rainbow. Securing my mask over my face, I step into the gate.
~
"Oh god," I mumble, but it comes out sounding like 'moh gawld', due to my hand being clasped over my mouth. Feeling light headed, I lean against the grimy wall of the alley I've stepped into.
Why does that take so much out of me?
A buzz from my hoodie pocket drags me from my thoughts. I slip my phone out with my free hand, the screen lighting up with a notification.
'where you at blud, just got home and u aint waiting for me'
Impatient, much?
Running my fingers down my masked face, I attempt to regain some composure before taking the short trip to Hobie's apartment.
~
I double-check the address he sent me, counting the windows that line the apartment building. OK, so he would be.. That one? Let's find out.
I shot a fluorescent web towards the fire escape stairs lining the window I had calculated to be Hobie's, sharply pulling on it to bring me up. Grunting as I land on the narrow green wire platform, I take a peek through the window. Seeing the band t-shirts all over the floor and used mugs with dried out teabags littering every surface, I confirm its his apartment.
I try at the latch on the window. Unlocked. Def Hobie's, then. No sane person would just casually leave their window unlocked after dark.
Opening the window fully, I slip through the gap, landing softly in a crouch on the carpet. I close the window behind me, locking it due to muscle memory.
Stretching back to my full height, I glance around the cramped apartment for any sign of my favourite pierced teenager. "Hobie?" I call out, my voice ricocheting against the thin walls. As I wait for a response, I tuck my discarded mask into my tote and chuck the bag onto the couch.
"Ya here!"
Hobie strolls out of the hallway, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. His hair is still dripping from a shower.
"Put some clothes on, you nudist." I stick my tongue out at him. But really, I'm not complaining. Smash.
"Oh you know you luv it!" He also sticks his tongue out, revealing a shiny silver tongue piercing. Is bro pierced everywhere?
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Hobes."
Hobie grins, before sauntering back to his room, hopefully NOT to dress (hehe). Before closing his door, he calls back, "Make yourself at 'ome, n/n!"
"Do you want a cuppa?" I call back, heading towards the cluttered, but still somewhat clean kitchen.
"You really are a brit." He walks back in, still tugging a shirt over his head. "You sure talk like one."
"Just answer the question, mate." I start opening random cupboards. "Where do you keep ya mugs?"
He gestures towards one of the top cupboards that mounts the right wall before flicking on the kettle to boil.
I swing open the cupboard he was referring to, sifting through the array of mugs. For him, I pick a black and grey speckled mug. For me, I manage to find a white mug with Garfield in full drag on the front.
"Now why the fuck do you have this on a mug? And are you super attached to it because I may or may not be considering nicking it!" Giggling, I turn to show him what I've found.
"Where did you find that mug, man? I haven't seen it for over two years." We stand there in his kitchen, just grinning at each other. Is it me or is this kitchen really small? And hot? I'm burning up here!
Neither of us dare to move. Neither of us want to move. We stand close, but not close enough.
The moment is broken by the sound of the kettle finishing its boil. He comes back to his senses, grin falling to a small smile. Hobie turns his back, tending to the tea. My eyes burn holes into his the back of his light grey shirt. It looks nice on him. How can he even suit such simple clothing?
"How do you take it?" His sudden words snaps me from my daze.
"Huh?"
"Like, do you want milk or sugar or something?"
"Oh. Uh, do you have honey, perchance?" I manage.
"Might do. Check for me, yeah?" I wait for guidance to its location. "That cupboard." He points after noting my hesitancy.
Turning around to check the cupboard, I pretend to try find the honey in between the cans and jars. When I stretch up to sift through them, I don't try to stop my hoodie from riding up, exposing a small sliver of the bare skin of my back. I feel his gaze dragging up and down the back of me, pausing at the sliver of skin between my top and trackies. When I take a little peek at him, he doesn't even try to hide it, instead making eye contact.
Clearing his throat, he says "Is there some?" His voice has turned nice and raspy, melting over me.
"Yeah." I grab the unopened squeezy bottle from within the cupboard before closing its doors and turning back to him. Hobie is leaning against the bench behind him when I turn back, head knocked backwards, mumbling to himself.
I close the gap between us, scooching myself between his warmth and the fridge to my left. Peeling back the plastic, I squirt a bit of honey into my beautiful Garfield mug. "What was that?"
He leans his head toward me, before responding. "Hm?"
"I heard you muttering something. What did you say?"
"I-" He starts, tongue fiddling with his lip ring. "Nothing."
"Right." I don't look back at him this time as I turn to put the honey away.
"So, you giving me a house tour or what?" Reaching for my steaming mug, I take a sip while waiting for an answer.
He mirrors my actions before responding. "Sure thing."
The heat of the mug on my palm and the stuffiness of the kitchen starts getting me a tad balmy under my jumper. "Wait a sec."
Hobie watches as I set my tea down on the counter before ducking into the living room.
I slip off the hoodie, grateful that I remembered to wear something under it for once. I fold it neatly, placing it next to my bag.
"OK, ready." I turn back to his stare, planting my hands on my hips impatiently.
He takes in my outfit before gesturing for me to follow.
"So, you've obviously seen the kitchen and the lounge. There's the door out," He points to the door at the far end of the hallway, its frame chipping slightly from age. "This first door is the washer and dryer, and the next one is my room." He stops to look at my reaction.
I smirk at him before asking "Can I see it? Or are you too nervous to have a girl in your room for the first time?"
"Bloody hell," He mumbles under his breath, giving me a playful glare. After he opens the door, I shove him out the way with a bump to the hip, letting myself in.
"Its fuckin' dark in here. You a vampire or something, Brown?" I feel the wall for a light switch, eventually finding it and flicking it on.
Yellow-tinged light fills the space, revealing his room to me.
A double bed is pushed against the window, a slightly rumpled, dark grey duvet with matching pillows stretched across its surface. There's a built in wardrobe on the right wall, door open slightly. It's mirrors have stickers stuck over its perimeter in decoration. In one corner, his electric guitar leans on its stand. He has two nightstands, one on either side of his bed. On the right one stands a matte black lamp, and a few used tea mugs, along with the odd empty grog bottle. On the left one sits a record player, different records in their rightful slips piled beside it. The wall opposite the bed is plastered with different posters. Some of bands, some with anti-cop slogans and such. A particular poster catches my eye.
"You listen to the Ramones?"
"What's it to you?" He quirks a brow, obviously expecting me to make fun of him or something.
"They're sick as! Do you have one of their records?"
"Oh! Uh, yeah. Next to the player." His brow falls, face coming back to an amused smirk.
I return the smirk, scampering over to his nightstand, avoiding the piles of clothes lazily shoved half-under the bed. Flicking through his messily arranged records, I find a Ramones record, carefully sliding it out of its slip before placing it on the player. I lightly place the needle down, turning up the volume.
I turn back to him, smiling wide. He grins at my enthusiasm. "Seems we are stayin' in 'ere, then. I'll grab our tea."
"Oh, can you grab the food out of my tote, too? Mal made it fresh today." Quickly, I slip the shoes off my feet. I don't even ask before making myself comfy on his bed, flopping down onto my stomach. Trying to be sneaky, I take a little whiff. Holy shit, why does he smell divine? His existence should be illegal at this point.
I hear him approach the bed, eyes burning into me. I don't give in, continuing rolling around on his bed.
"What is this? It smells awesome." The bed sinks beside me. I sneak a peek; Hobie is watching me in delight.
"La Bandera. Did you grab forks, too?" With my mouth against the bed, the mattress muffles my words. Somehow, he manages to understand me.
"Yup!" He pops the 'p'. "Sit up so we can eat. I'm starvin'."
I prop myself into a sitting position, crisscross apple sauce.
We lift the lids to our food in unison, the spices unleashing on our senses. Hobie groans at how good it smells.
"You good there, fam? Does good food turn you on or something?" I tease.
"That's not the thing turning me on." His response is vague. But then he gives me a wink. Oh? OH.
"Just eat your meal bitch."
"Ouch." He pouts in mock hurt. "Your rejection wounds me."
"Your jokes wound me." I shovel a forkful of food into my mouth to signal the end of the conversation.
We sit there for a while, 'I Wanna Be Sedated' turning to 'Baby I Love You' , then 'Blitzkrieg Bop'. I'm really enjoying his company, I love just sitting here with him as we eat. The tea is hot and sweet on my tongue, perfect to wash down the La Bandera with.
After finishing the meal and discarding our dishes, we lay back against the headboard to ease our full tummies. I flip onto my side to face him. "What happened at the meeting today?"
"I-" Hobie bites his lip, thinking of what to say. "Young'un learnt about his canon event. He didn't know 'e would have to say goodbye to his old man soon. He wasn't too happy."
"Oh no, poor Miles. I'm quite fond of him." I frown, feeling sympathy for my new found friend. "I know we each have to go through something traumatic and its a part of being a 'hero'," I mime quotation marks as I say hero, "But its still devastating when it happens. Knowing him, he's probably about to collapse his universe by trying to save him." I try lighten the situation with a joke, but it only makes Hobie wince.
"You're shitting me. Say you're joshing right now, hoe."
"Sadly, I'm not... He made a break for it, and Miguel... Well, acted like Miguel, got on all fours 'n' star'ed chasing him like a rabid dog." He reaches a hand to itch his eyebrow.
"What is up with Miguel? Does he have a pole up his ass or some shit? He was lowkey nice when I first joined, but he scared me shitless today, lifting me up like I'm a handful of grapes," I wince at the memory.
"Yeah. He's alrigh', but when he gets angry, he goes bonkers. Somethin' about his daughter dying and his universe collapsing."
I flop back against the pillows, astonished at all this new information. All I can do is stare at the ceiling.
"Wow. I feel like I've been through a lot but then I hear all the crap that other people have gone through... And just... Wow." I turn back to Hobie again, wanting the comfort that I get by just looking at him. Curling my knees to my chest, I make look up at those eyes, which immediately sends relief through me. His effect on me is... Weird, to say the least.
"I get whatcha mean, luv. But ya gotta remember that someone else's troubles don't make yours any smaller." A small smile lines his lips, and he shuffles a bit closer.
We lay inches apart. Neither of us make the move to close the distance. But we don't back away, either.
While I had spent at least an hour and a half at his house, it only felt like minutes.
Don't they say time flies when you're having fun? Who knew my kind of fun was lying with a guy I hardly know, the Ramones playing softly in the background.
Neither of us even noticed that we never finished the house tour.
~
A/N:
didnt mean to make this chapter that long but its just so hard not to keep on writing abt these cuties
i want me some la bandera now i crave it even tho its way too late for food rn
<333