Work Text:
Location: Greenwich Village, outside a suspiciously spacious brownstone.
"Warren, buddy, pal, friendo, I'm begging you. I need this. I need you. Only you can give me what I need," said Bobby, resting his head against Warren's chest and holding onto the thin fabric of Warren's costume.
"Absolutely not," said Warren.
His body tensed in a way Bobby knew was an impending liftoff. He gripped Warren's shoulders, not letting Warren escape his clutches as strong wings took them both surging into the skies.
"I just think it could be pretty good!" said Bobby, legs dangling in the air far above New York, the wind whistling past their heads. "My parents will hate you! You're a hero! But they'll still be impressed I bagged a rich guy, so I'll look like I know what I'm doing AND they'll love whoever's next!"
Warren hovered in the air, silent, then put his arms around Bobby's waist to keep him from plummeting to the pavement. "You had me at the 'hate me' part."
"Remember, the last big announcement made my mom faint. She's delicate. And dad's blood pressure! I need to ease my parents gently into this. And it's perfectly timed since you and Candy broke up! My plan is perfect all over!"
"Ah," said Warren.
"Look, it isn't like you have to keep dating me. It's just one nice night out to let them see what I'm capable of now that they're not getting a daughter-in-law, and then we'll 'break up' and everyone will be quietly relieved." Bobby beamed at Warren. "I can't start being honest to my parents at this time in my life, can I? They wouldn’t know what to do with it. I shouldn't have even let them know I'm back in the hero business. I could have been telling them that the ice guy in the news is Glacehomme and he's from France."
"Oh my god, Bobby."
"So, yeah, I may have already told them I have a super-rich handsome boyfriend. And the best part is, Mom will stop asking me when you're hiring me for your company, because 'halfway through an accounting degree' means I'm ready to take over your entire budget department. She's been calling me her little accountant ever since I picked up my first calculator."
"Mmm," said Warren, landing on the roof of his apartment. "Fine. But I choose the restaurant. If I'm going to be a prop in your farce, I want it to be good food."
"You're paying, right?"
"We'll see. If this goes badly, Tiger, you’ll be washing dishes for years to pay it off. Now take the elevator and let me plan our big date."
Location: One very fancy restaurant in the hippest part of New York.
"Oh... Robert didn't say it was you," said Mr. Drake, as Warren smiled winningly up at Bobby's newly arrived parents. They were at La Pauvre Peasant, an upscale peasant/serf fusion restaurant that specialized in gruel. The fact that Warren could even get a reservation that night, when anyone else had to wait six months, was an act of CEO and God. Bobby wasn't even sure the menu was using real French, but he did spot a lot of Las and Les and that was good enough. His mother looked suitably impressed. At the restaurant. Not at Warren.
"I thought he would have mentioned it was you," added Mr. Drake. "Aren't you busy being hit by giants and robots?"
"Oh, I am! Pretty much every day. Bobby and me get slammed around all the time," Warren said, then visibly caught himself. "You know. In the bedroom."
Bobby coughed on his artisanal water and Warren squeezed his knee. Oh, thought Bobby, the game begins.
"I'm sure," said Mrs. Drake, taking a seat. She was wearing Bobby's great-grandmother's mink stole: Whatever came of all this, at least his mother got a chance to feel fancy.
"So. You and Robert," said Mr. Drake. "You two. Robert and a public mutant. Both of you."
"Oh yes," said Warren. "Of course, the harness stays on in closed spaces, but when we're out and about... wow! Everyone loves looking at the Angel!"
"Yes, all the attention is amazing!" said Bobby enthusiastically. "I think I'm appearing in some paper. I didn't really recognize it, it had Enquirer in the name? I can't wait to make the news for something besides being a hero. I'll send you a copy."
"Did you know, Robert," said his mother, in a very casual tone, "that the Stranges down the way have a son who's a doctor? I've seen him and his facial hair. Maybe we should introduce you!"
"To be penpals?" said Bobby.
"Yes, something like that," said his mother. "Doctors are such reliable people."
"And you know," said his father, as Warren reached over and massaged Bobby's neck, "My dentist has a boy who's quite the looker!"
"I'm not sure what you mean," said Bobby.
"Oh, they're just trying to help you make friends," said Warren. Bobby had noted, with some alarm, that the 'massage' was mostly Warren working off the tension in his own hand. "It's important to have community, Bobby. Like us mutants do."
"Yes! They're not mutants, though," said Mrs. Drake. "They're nice normal human men. Who are, according to their parents, single. You should meet them."
"Mrs. Drake," said Warren, leaning in and gazing at her with his most charming smile, “it's great that you're so accepting of Bobby. And might I say, you look stunning in that stole and your makeup is, as 'we' say, on point?"
Mrs. Drake blushed in surprise. Mr. Drake harrumphed. He lifted up the menu.
"What is... gruélle?"
"Why don't I order for you both," said Warren. "I come here all the time and I know just what you’d like."
Bobby shot Warren a warning look. Warren winked and leaned in to peck Bobby's cheek. Bobby wasn't much of a blusher, thanks to the icy veins, but he felt the heat rising nonetheless.
"If you insist," grunted Mr.Drake. But there was a grateful note in his voice.
When Warren ordered, he turned to Mr. and Mrs. Drake and explained what they were getting as their meal. They looked pleased and a lot less nervous. Bobby ate some of the table bread. White, with the ineffable bouquet Wonder Bread. Bobby continued his interior restaurant review in his best, inner imaginary French accent.
"This is quite the place," said Mrs. Drake, looking around. "I quite like the... what is that lovely brown accent on the wall?"
"Burlap sacks," said Warren. "To evoke the peasant atmosphere. It's part of why it's so popular with the jet set. It's so authentic."
"Kim's on the corner, in the Village, is pretty good too," said Bobby, eating another slice of bread. "And they actually tell you what the food costs."
"Oh, well, yeah," said Warren. "But we're impressing your parents tonight. We can go to Kim's for our next family meetup."
He gave Bobby’s mother another million-watt smile. She, apparently, was a blusher. Even Bobby's father didn't look annoyed at the promise of another meetup.
Throughout dinner, Bobby watched in horror as his plans unraveled. Warren wasn't acting like Warren at all. He was telling the kind of jokes his father actually liked. Paying attention to what Bobby's mother said. Giving her 'inside tips' on the more upscale New York department stores. Touching Bobby's arm lightly, and smiling at him. In short, doing everything in his power to disprove that Bobby had no taste in men.
Bobby leaned in toward him. "You're supposed to be an asshole right now,” he hissed. “They're going to be disappointed if you dump me."
"Then I guess I shouldn't," said Warren. Bobby stuck his tongue out at him.
"Something wrong, boys?" asked Mr. Drake. He was sipping his wine, and hadn't mentioned any available young men to Bobby for over twenty minutes.
"Nothing," said Bobby.
"Just flirting," said Warren.
Bobby's parents laughed. Bobby pictured the 'well, how did you screw THAT one up?' conversation that was coming very shortly, and hunched his shoulders.
After Warren paid for dinner, he escorted Bobby's parents to their cab and was surprised with a hug from Bobby's mother.
"I didn't realize you had such a sweet side!" she gushed.
"Mm. Well," said Bobby's father, giving Bobby a stoic clap on the arm.
Bobby stood beside Warren, watching the cab drive away.
"What the hell were you doing?" demanded Bobby, almost snarling. Then Warren's shirt struck him in the face.
"Let's talk about this somewhere nicer," said Warren, scooping Bobby in his arms and lifting off with the thunder of enormous white wings.
Bobby yelped and hung on. The lights of New York shrank beneath them as Warren’s wings carried them skyward. Bobby held tight to Warren's neck, stomach leaping even though Warren had held him far more lightly without ever dropping him. They landed beside a pond in Central Park. Warren removed the rest of his harness, tossing it atop the shirt that Bobby had 'held onto' only in the sense that it was up against Warren’s skin between them during the flight.
"I'm not sure this is nicer," said Bobby, looking around at the nighttime park. A squirrel looked at him with menace in its eyes. "Seriously, Warren, what the hell? We had a deal! Now I'm going to look like an idiot who can't keep a good thing!"
"Well, I got to thinking," Warren said, stretching out bare, unencumbered arms and wings, "your parents weren't so down on me once they warmed up to the idea."
"Yeah, but that's kind of the problem!" said Bobby, punching frustratedly at the air.
"And I was thinking,” Warren added, “gosh, you were a fun boyfriend to show off for.”
Bobby crossed his arms.
Warren looked uncertain. "Well, I was thinking, you don't have to get dumped You could stay... not dumped."
"What?" said Bobby.
Warren fluttered his wings and then pulled Bobby into his arms, wrapping the wings around them both. "This is easier than words."
Bobby made a muffled noise against Warren's bare chest. Turning his head just got him a faceful of soft feathers. He indulged himself in a little nuzzle of warm wings.
"I don't get the punchline," he said.
"There isn't one! I was just thinking... I know it's Hank who's always kissing you and flirting, but I've got a lot to offer too. I may not be blue, but I can be true.” He ran a hand down Bobby's back. "I mean. If you're interested. I think I made a real splash with your parents and that's a good sign, right?"
"Oh. OH," said Bobby.
"Yes?"
"Maybe. Let me think about it. Okay. Yes," said Bobby. Warren tipped up Bobby's chin to kiss him.
In the distance, since it was Central Park, they heard a mugging.
Bobby iced up. Warren took off in flight. The mugger screamed once.
Bobby's parents quite liked Kim's.