Work Text:
Fethry owed Fenton for a lot.
Working in a lab was miles away from cleaning one, and Gyro proved intimidating from their first meeting. He was everything Fethry had imagined a scientist to be, austere and dedicated and learned, and everything Fethry felt he wasn’t.
But then he watched Gyro spend two hours teaching Lil Bulb a tap dance routine, just because he didn’t want to start a project, and Fethry realized that maybe they weren’t so different after all.
Even so, Fethry wasn’t a scientist, not in the same way Fenton or Gyro were. He wasn’t trained or experienced in the same way.
Sure, he’d spent four years learning how to solder ruptured fuel lines, updating the sublab’s ancient CPUs and processing systems, and studying the undersea life. He always saw it as stuff he just did, nothing impressive or important about it. It wasn’t a bad thing, but there was no denying what he was, and he was a janitor. Or custodian, if one was being generous.
Fenton seemed to make it his sole mission to change Fethry’s mind.
Early on, Fenton would go out of his way to help Fethry get adjusted to the new lab setting, even offer his assistance on Fethry’s first projects. Fenton opened up to him about his own rocky start, his too-high ambitions.
In return, Fethry told him about the sublab that had been his home, how much he missed the solitude sometimes and hated himself for doing so. He told Fenton about Mitzy, and the rest of his team.
Before Fethry realized what was happening, this turned into long conversations over coffee, walks in the park and trips to museums. All the things Fethry hadn’t been able to do for the last four years.
Fenton didn’t mind when Fethry rambled, whether it was about the new rhythm he’d gotten his team to follow, or his fascinating readings on the giant squid in the bay. Fenton said he found his passion admirable, and even inspiring.
Fethry had only ever been told that he talked too much, that it was “weird” he knew so much about so many random subjects.
He was still adjusting to being around other people, to sudden noises and wide open spaces, and Fenton knew that. He was careful never to sneak up on him, tried not to crowd him. He accommodated Fethry, without having to be asked and without complaining.
No one had ever done something like that for him. No one had ever cared enough.
Before Fethry knew it, he had made his first friend in four years. It only served him right that he would fall in love with him.
Fethry didn’t live at the mansion with the rest of his family.
He loved his cousin and uncle, he always would, and he knew that on some level they cared about him too. But he also knew that they never would’ve answered his calls, and if it hadn’t been for Huey and Dewey venturing out to meet him, he would've been stranded in that dilapidated lab for another four years. In his nightmares, he sees the sublab falling apart around him, sees the rush of water coming to claim him as he's crushed beneath 3,000 meters of the ocean he so revered.
Either way, Donald and Scrooge would’ve been none the wiser.
So Fethry accepted the lab posting from Scrooge (who offered it out of guilt, he was sure) because he wanted to be a scientist, and he didn’t trust himself taking a job out in the real world, not when he was still getting used to what the real world was. But the only family Fethry still went out of his way to see were Huey and Dewey, and later Louie and Webby, all of them bright and kind and eager to show him how his hometown had changed in the intervening years.
They took him with them to Funzo’s one day, and Fenton joined them.
Loud and chaotic, full of screaming children and warbling arcade games, it was a test of Fethry’s newfound resolve, and a step in his gradual adjustment to society.
Sure he sat at a table for most of the time, but Fenton sat with him and they drank the saccharine fruit punch Louie got for them and watched the kids run around. And Fenton turned to him with a soft, sincere smile, putting his hand over Fethry’s.
“I know this is tough for you,” he said, “I just wanted to let you know that I’m really proud of you, y’know?”
Fethry didn’t exactly have a response ready, not when his heart was sent hammering against his ribs, so he just nodded and took a long, rattling sip of his empty cup.
Somehow, he was able to find the courage to flip his hand over and entwine his fingers with Fenton’s. They stayed that way until Dewey dragged Fethry away so he could watch him beat his high score on Uke or Puke.
Fenton started inviting Fethry over to his house for dinner, and before he knew what was happening, he was there almost every night.
His own apartment was on the edge of Hookbill Harbor, and it was small and dingy and cold, filled only with the few knickknacks he’d been able to salvage from the sublab. Returning there after a long day only served to depress Fethry, and remind him that his place in this new world was still tenuous and frail, that he didn’t quite belong out here on the fringes.
In contrast, Fenton’s home was always warm and bright, with the television playing some gripping telenovela and music filling the kitchen. As he cooked, Fenton would sing along, poorly but with dedication, to whatever song was playing on the radio. Often, he would drag Fethry to the middle of the kitchen and they would dance until their dinner was ready.
Gloria Cabrera, Fenton’s mother, affectionate in her bullying, always complained that he was too skinny, and made a habit of calling him flaco or esqueleto. She made it her mission to feed him whenever he was around, and always greeted him with a crushing hug and a kiss to the cheek.
One night, as he sat with her watching Patos de la Pasión, she told him that he helped center Fenton, that he brought him peace.
“He cares about you a lot,” Gloria said warmly.
And Fethry didn’t quite know what to do with himself. All Fenton had done was help him, support him, reintroduce him to the world. Fethry owed him so much. He hadn’t once considered that maybe he’d helped Fenton too, that Fenton might care about him the same way he did.
In the end Fethry chuckled thinly, rubbing his arm. “He um…he means a lot to me too. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
Gloria wrapped her arm around him, gently squeezing his shoulder. “I’m happy to hear that, mijo.”
Fethry didn’t like to overstay his welcome. But some nights he stayed later than he meant to, and both Fenton and his mother would insist he spend the night.
At their insistence, he would take Fenton’s bed, while Fenton slept on the living room couch. He felt guilty every time, and every time Fenton would just take his hand in his, smile, say that he was their guest, and that they insisted.
Fethry had always fallen asleep quickly, but he didn’t often stay asleep. His nightmares were commonplace now, since his return from the deep, though no less gut-wrenching for their regularity.
Usually though, when he had nightmares will sleeping at Fenton’s no one was the wiser. Of course, this wasn’t a trend that would continue.
Fethry’s nightmares usually involved looming shadows and encroaching walls. Rushing water, a tightness in his chest as he drowned, as he called for help and no one answered. But one night his nightmare was different.
Because Fenton was there too, drowning along with him.
He awoke with a start, unable to breathe, and fell off the bed in his panic.
Fenton rushed in not a moment later; Fethry forgot sometimes that he was a superhero on top of everything else, that he almost always on high alert, even in his own home.
But Fethry couldn’t breathe, and he didn’t want Fenton to see him like this, hyperventilating on the floor of his room.
Fenton sat down in front of him, until he filled Fethry’s vision. He held him gently by the shoulders, leaning forward so their foreheads touched.
“You’re here,” Fenton said, “you’re here, you’re safe. I promise you’re safe.”
Mimicking Fenton’s breathing, his own began to even out. His panic attacks, while abrupt and crushing in their onset, were often quick to lessen. Stifling a choked sob, Fethry wrapped his arms around Fenton, and buried his face in his chest.
Fenton hugged him just as tightly, rocking back and forth a bit as he rubbed Fethry’s back, cupped the back of his head. Fenton pulled back a bit to look him in the eye, cupping Fethry’s face with his palm. He rubbed Fethry’s cheek with his thumb, his expression filled with concern and affection so deep it nearly made Fethry stop breathing again.
Fenton leaned forward, and their beaks brushed together.
But Fethry’s heart was fill to bursting, the image of Fenton drowning alongside him still too fresh in his memory. The living, breathing, flesh and blood Fenton was in his arms now, and they were safe.
He moved before he could think better of it, pressing his mouth to Fenton’s in a deep, fervent kiss.
Fenton stiffened for a split second, and in that time Fethry was certain he’d ruined everything.
But then Fenton moaned softly, and he lifted both hands to cup Fethry’s face, tilting his head into the kiss.
Even so, Fethry still broke the kiss, lingering inches from Fenton’s face.
“I-I’m sorry,” he said, “is this…okay? I mean, are you sure—”
Fenton smiled, glowing with bedhead and all. “You have nothing to be sorry about,” he said, tilting his head back toward Fethry. But he waited for Fethry’s cue, gaze patient and warm, and Fethry thought his heart would burst all over again.
He kissed Fenton again, more confidently than before. His hands drifted up Fenton’s sides, and he brought them even closer together.
Fenton sighed against his mouth, perhaps the most beautiful sound Fethry had ever heard.
After a few moments they both pulled away, flushed and out and breath.
Fenton brushed a stay hair of Fethry’s face, and had to stifle a yawn.
Fethry laughed, and Fenton looked only a little mortified. “Sorry for waking you up so early,” Fethry said, his smile dimming a lit with guilt.
Fenton shook his head, gently squeezing Fethry’s arms. “It was worth it,” he replied, trying to be matter of fact, but he was smiling too wide. He yawned again. “But how about we get some sleep now?”
Fethry found the confidence to tug Fenton onto the bed with him, and they curled up close to each other, Fethry’s cheek pressed over Fenton’s chest, and Fenton’s arms draped over his shoulders.
They fell asleep like this, and would do so almost every night after.