Actions

Work Header

Two Slow Dancers

Summary:

Bubby and Dr. Coomer reflect on their past and consider their future.

Notes:

Aaaa I hope this isn’t too confusing! I don’t write very often at all. The POV switches from the present to different times in the past. Um I hope y’all like this please let me know what you think :) also I’m bad at titles it’s named after a uh Mitski song.

Oh I forgot! batz and birbwell’s art on tumblr were both big inspirations for this so thanks guys!

Work Text:

It was a quiet night.

Then again, Bubby supposed all nights were this quiet in the middle of the New Mexico desert. It was certainly a change of pace from the sounds of gunshots and anguished screams, but not necessarily a nice one. The absence of sound was almost more disconcerting.

He had made it back from space to find that the rest of the group had fallen asleep. He’d elected to sit outside for a while, to take in some fresh air and try to clear his head. He ran a hand over his scalp and looked up at the night sky. A sense of dread filled him where once there was a sense of wonder.

He shouldn’t have been so surprised. The evidence had been mounting since the science team’s little adventure started. It should have been cemented as soon as Dr. Coomer said it himself.

There was nothing there. And now Bubby had seen it for himself. He wondered if when—if—they got out of Black Mesa, there would be anything after.

“Can’t sleep?” Bubby jumped a little at the sound of Dr. Coomer’s voice sounding from behind him. He turned to look at the other man.

“Oh, hello, Dr. Coomer,” he said. “Looks like you can’t either.” Coomer sat on the ground beside Bubby, giving him a tired but warm smile.

“Mind if I keep you company for a bit?” Coomer asked. Bubby grunted in affirmation, his gaze turned back to the sky. He wasn’t feeling particularly social, but Coomer’s presence was preferable to being alone with his thoughts right now.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Bubby spoke. “What if,” he said, before starting again. “What do you think will happen to us, once we get out?”

“I’m afraid I couldn’t say,” Coomer replied.

The pair became silent again and Bubby let his mind wander.

————————————————————

“Bubby, Bubby, wake up!” A voice combined with several raps on glass stirred Bubby from his sleep. He blinked the tiredness from his eyes and saw Coomer looking up at him from outside the tube he was confined to.

Coomer, a scientist assigned to the anomalous materials lab. He’d been visiting Bubby in the room where he was housed for a few months now, and they’d become fast friends. Coomer was certainly better company than the scientists who poked and prodded him day in and day out.

Bubby crossed his arms indignantly.

“Haven’t you ever had fish?” he said, annoyed.

“What?” Coomer replied.

“You don’t tap on the glass, Dr. Coomer. It’s obnoxious.”

“Oh,” Coomer looked apologetic.

“Well you’ve got me up, what do you want, anyway?”

Coomer watched the entrance of the room for a moment, before shooting Bubby a devilish grin. “I’m sneaking you out!”

“What? No, idiot, we’re going to get caught. Do you want to lose your job, or worse?”

“Oh, come on,” Coomer insisted, pleading. “It’ll be fun!”

Bubby chuckled. “You’re like a little kid.”

“Yes, but you love that about me!” Coomer replied, making Bubby laugh again. “Come on, Bubby. Boy’s night!”

“Alright, alright, fine. Boy’s night,” Bubby conceded. “But if we get caught, I’m not covering for you.”

————————————————————

“Who knows, I mean, maybe I’m wrong,” Coomer said with an obviously false confidence.

“But I saw it too. There’s nothing out there,” Bubby argued. “Is Black Mesa really all there is? What does that mean for us?”

“I mean, things are already weird enough, right? Maybe there is something, and we just aren’t seeing it.”

Bubby hesitated before replying. “What if... none of it’s real? What if we aren’t real?”

“Don’t be silly. Of course we are,” Coomer snapped back, but his voice betrayed a hint of fear. “We are, we have to be.”

————————————————————

Bubby stifled a yawn as he made his way to the anomalous materials lab. Having satisfactorily passed whatever tests he’d been subjected to, he was no longer confined to his tube, and had accepted a job in the same sector of the facility as Coomer. He still wasn’t used to having to wake up quite so early, though.

Other staff members offered him good-mornings as he passed, and he returned them with a wave, not wanting to get caught up in small talk. He still wasn’t a big fan of social interaction, that is, with anyone who wasn’t Coomer.

“Good morning, Dr. Bubby!” chirped Coomer, catching up to him from behind as if on cue. Bubby offered him a groggy grin.

“You’re in a good mood for a Monday, Dr. Coomer,” he teased.

“Well, I have a good reason!” Coomer beamed. “I met the most incredible woman over the weekend.”

“Oh,” Bubby replied flatly. He felt his stomach drop—he wasn’t at all interested in Coomer’s love life, and now he’d probably have to hear about it all the time. He knew it was selfish, but he was used to having Coomer to himself. He would have to pretend to be happy for his friend, and he loathed the thought of expending that extra effort.

“Well?” Coomer piped up, making Bubby aware that he’d been silent for just a bit too long. “Aren’t you going to ask me about her?”

“Oh, uh, of course,” Bubby replied hastily. “What’s her name?”

“Angela. Isn’t that lovely?” Coomer was, in Bubby’s opinion, much too enthusiastic about a woman he had just met, and he scoffed without meaning to. “Ah, I see,” Coomer said knowingly, patting Bubby on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, my friend, no need to be jealous. You’ll find a girl soon enough.”

“Yeah, right,” Bubby replied, shaking Coomer’s hand away. Coomer smiled at him, amused at his own quip, and Bubby smiled back despite himself.

————————————————————

“... Suppose, for just a moment, we aren’t. Does that mean everything we’ve done is meaningless?” Bubby wondered.

“Well,” Coomer began, thinking carefully. “I suppose everything is ultimately meaningless, isn’t it? Whether we were real or not.”

“Very uplifting, Harold,” Bubby said sarcastically.

“Shut up. What I’m saying is, yes, everything anyone does is meaningless, in the grand scheme of things. But that doesn’t make it meaningless to us,” Coomer said.

Bubby turned to look at Coomer curiously, prompting him to speak further.

“Say, somehow, you and I really aren’t real,” Coomer continued, meeting Bubby’s eyes. “Our friendship is real, at least to us. The memories we’ve made together are real. I think, as long as I have those, I don’t mind so much what’s really real and what isn’t.”

Bubby smiled, silently agreeing. He patted Coomer’s hand with his own, letting it linger before wrapping his arms around his knees.

“It’s cold,” he complained.

“Bubby, you’re always cold,” Coomer said, and Bubby couldn’t argue. “But it’s also the middle of the night, in the desert. Shall we go back inside?”

“Not quite yet,” Bubby replied, wanting to enjoy the fresh air and the presence of his friend for a little longer.

“Okay.”

————————————————————

“What is it you wanted to see me for, Harold?” Bubby asked. Coomer had asked to meet up with him after work, and he’d seemed a little too excited, which filled Bubby with excitement of his own and a healthy dose of dread.

“Well, I had something important I needed to ask you, but first, I need to show you something.” Coomer patted the chair next to him, prompting Bubby to take a seat. Bubby looked at Coomer’s face intently, trying and failing to read the man’s mind.

Coomer took a nervous breath. “I’m, um, I’m planning on proposing to Angela,” he said, a giddy smile across his face.

“Oh, that’s—that’s wonderful,” Bubby replied, putting on the most convincing smile he could muster. As time had gone by and things between Coomer and Angela had gotten more serious, Bubby had unfortunately become much more aware of the reason their relationship made him so uncomfortable. He would never dare say anything to Coomer—he had to remain the supportive friend.

Besides, it wouldn’t do him any good now. If he’d ever had a shot, it was too late now. Bubby tried to keep mentally kicking himself to a minimum, for the moment, since Coomer wasn’t finished.

“Tell me what you think,” he said, pulling a small box out of his pocket. He opened it to reveal a ring. It was simple, but still elegant, like Coomer himself, Bubby thought. “Do you think she’ll like it?”

Bubby swallowed. “She’ll love it, Harold.” I would, he thought before he was able to stop himself. He made a mental note to berate himself for that later.

“Thank you, Bubby, I knew asking you would put me at ease,” Coomer smiled at him. “There’s one more thing I want to ask you, though.”

“Oh?”

“I know you don’t love Angela, but you’re my best friend in the world and I really want you to be part of the wedding. Would you be my best man?” Coomer asked.

“Of course,” Bubby replied automatically, instant regret bitterly coating his tongue. Coomer pulled him into a hug, babbling about how wonderful it was going to be, but Bubby wasn’t listening anymore. He’d gone numb.

When he returned to his dormitory that night, everything crashed down on him all at once. He sunk to the floor, face in his hands, and sobbed until he had no tears left.

————————————————————

“I really am glad we’re friends, Bubby,” Coomer said.

“I know that,” Bubby snapped, more harshly than was probably necessary. “Why are you saying weird things?”

“I just want to make sure you know, in case everything goes to shit,” Coomer replied. “You’re a grumpy old bastard, Bubby, but if I had to do everything again, I wouldn’t do it any differently.”

Not any differently. The words echoed in Bubby’s head and he felt his face flush. He was probably overthinking it. All Coomer meant was that he’d get put on probation again for breaking Bubby out of his tube for late night hijinks more times than any sane person probably would.

Right?

————————————————————

Bubby tossed and turned in bed. He knew the sun was creeping up over the horizon, and he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, but he just couldn’t get comfortable. He had hoped the stress from yesterday would help him pass out, but just his luck, it’d had the opposite effect.

The wedding was over. Bubby had performed his duties as best man as well as he could while struggling to keep it together, and Coomer was officially married to Angela.

Coomer officially wasn’t his anymore.

He let out a strained sob, but his body was too exhausted to keep crying. He made the decision to burn one of his allotted sick days. He probably wasn’t capable of getting sick anyway, right? It would be fine to skip just one day of work.

He thought that Coomer and his new wife were probably already enjoying their honeymoon. They’d gone somewhere on the east coast... Bubby wracked his hazy brain. How did time zones work again?

Disgustingly, all he could think of was when he would see Coomer again. Ten days, that’s how long the couple was supposed to be away. He had given Bubby the number of the room they were staying in, just in case. Would it be absolutely crazy to call the man during his honeymoon?

Bubby smacked himself in the face. Idiot, of COURSE that’s crazy, he told himself. He’d been doing quite a lot of that lately, berating himself for being so stupid, so weak. He was supposed to be some incredible, perfect being. Why was he letting himself get so worked up over a crush?

He knew it wasn’t that simple. His feelings for Coomer went way beyond that. But it didn’t stop him from mentally kicking the shit out of himself over it.

He thought briefly about getting up, then decided against it. He finally managed to slip into unconsciousness, his sleep plagued with fitful dreams.

————————————————————

“You don’t have any regrets?” asked Bubby. He didn’t know what he expected Coomer to say. Certainly not what he wanted to hear, but he was curious nonetheless.

“Mm, no, I don’t think so,” Coomer replied cheerfully. “I do suppose I wish I’d gone further with my boxing career, but I’d have had to leave you all alone at Black Mesa, eh?” He winked at Bubby and chuckled.

Bubby shoved him playfully, shooting him a pointy-toothed smirk. “Asshole.”

“What about you, my friend? Do you wish you’d done it all differently?”

————————————————————

Bubby did not want to be at work today. Coomer had returned from his honeymoon, and Bubby had been trying and failing to avoid him all day. The other man kept trying to talk and joke with him, and Bubby was finding it very difficult not to bite his head off. As the days had gone by, Bubby’s sadness had turned to contempt for Coomer, and he knew it wasn’t fair, but he was heartbroken, damn it.

He watched the clock more intently than he’d like to admit, and when 5:30 rolled around, he tried to slip out of the lab as quickly as he could. But Coomer caught up, of course. Bubby hadn’t been expecting to get a break anyway.

“Bubby, please talk to me,” he said, struggling just a bit to keep pace with the taller man, who was walking much faster than normal. “Did I do something to make you upset with me?”

“No,” Bubby huffed, keeping his gaze fixed on the hallway ahead of him.

“Then why won’t you talk to me? I must’ve done something. This isn’t like you,” Coomer said, concern growing in his voice. “Or... did something happen to you? Are you okay??”

“I’m fine,” Bubby insisted, though his acid tone gave him away. Coomer didn’t let up, and Bubby tried his best to ignore him. He could feel his temper growing shorter and shorter, until eventually he lost it. He yanked Coomer by the arm and shoved him into an unoccupied lab, slamming the door shut behind them.

“You want to know why I’m upset?” he snarled, practically fuming at the other man.

“Y-yes? If I can do anything to help—“

“Help? Oh, you’ve done enough, don’t you worry about that.” Bubby wanted to stop talking. He really did. But now that he’d started, he couldn’t stop. “Why did you think I’d want to be your best man? What on earth made you think I’d want to participate in your wedding?”

“I...” Coomer stammered, confused. “I don’t understand. I know you’re not that big a fan of Angela—“

“It’s not about Angela, Harold, it’s about you!”

“What are you talking about?”

Bubby froze for a moment, mouth agape. “What do you mean, what am I talking about? Surely you’ve noticed. I haven’t exactly been subtle.”

Coomer just shrugged and shook his head, defeated.

“Are you serious? I thought Black Mesa only hired smart people,” Bubby grumbled. “Don’t you realize how much... how much I care about you?”

“Well of course I do, but I don’t...” Coomer trailed off. He looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Oh,” was all he said. Bubby shuffled uncomfortably.

“Oh. Oh, Bubby,” Coomer continued, pulling the other man into a hug, making Bubby tense. “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t know.”

That was it. Bubby couldn’t hold it back anymore. A loud sob escaped him, prompting Coomer to wrap his arms tighter around him. They stood there together while Bubby cried into Coomer’s shoulder, Coomer doing what he could to comfort him.

When Bubby regained his composure, the two pulled away from each other.

“Um,” Bubby started weakly. “Sorry about that.”

Coomer glanced at the tear stain on his shirt. “Don’t worry about it,” he replied, offering a weak smile.

Bubby sunk down against the door, and Coomer sat against the wall next to him. They stayed like that for a moment, in silence.

“I really only asked you because you’re my best friend, Bubby. I love you,” Coomer told him.

“I know,” Bubby said.

There was another moment of silence before Bubby spoke again.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“What? Why would I be mad at you?” Coomer asked.

“Because of the whole... you know,” Bubby replied, gesturing vaguely.

Coomer chuckled a little. “Bubby, you’ve done a lot worse things to me than fall in love with me,” he replied. “I can’t even count how many times you’ve set me on fire.”

Bubby barked out a laugh at that. He still felt heavy, but he was definitely a bit lighter now that this was off his chest. Coomer put an arm around Bubby’s shoulder and Bubby leaned into the touch, just a little.

“Are you and I going to be okay?” asked Coomer, a bit nervously.

“Of course,” assured Bubby. “You’re my best friend.”

————————————————————

“Do you remember, after you came back from your honeymoon?” Bubby asked.

“Of course I do,” said Coomer. “I was so afraid I’d done something to make you hate me. I spent the whole day practically in hysterics.”

Bubby smiled slightly. Then he said, “You remember what I told you?” Coomer hummed his affirmation.

Another beat of silence.

“I still do, you know,” Bubby said, slowly. Coomer didn’t answer right away, and Bubby felt his face burn with embarrassment. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought this up after all—

“You know,” Coomer said, matching Bubby’s hesitation. “I do, too.”

Bubby stared at him for a moment, incredulous. “And you’re only telling me now, why?” he demanded.

Coomer laughed nervously. “I thought, after all that time, you must’ve gotten over me!”

“Yeah, right,” Bubby scoffed. “As if I could.”

They sat for a moment, edging closer to each other, almost imperceptibly.

Then Bubby said, “I never answered your question.”

“What?” asked Coomer.

“About regrets,” Bubby replied. He took a moment to choose his words. “If... there really is nothing after this, if this is all there is... I know I’ll regret never getting to be with you.”

He paused for just a moment, then continued. “I know it’s a bit late, but... do you think we could try? This might be our last chance.”

Coomer scooted closer to Bubby, putting his arm around the other’s back. “Yes, Bubby, I think we can try.”

Bubby leaned into Coomer, placing his hand over the other’s. They sat like this together, in a moment that felt like it could last forever, until—

“Alright, I’m freezing,” Bubby said.

Coomer laughed. “Let’s go on inside.” He started to get onto his feet, then stopped. He moved his hand to the back of Bubby’s neck, pulling the other man’s face down to meet his in a chaste kiss. He pulled back, laughing at the shock on Bubby’s face.

The pair then got up and made their way back inside. They had time to worry about what lay ahead of them, but for now, they were together, and for now, that’s all that mattered.