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Thunder rolled over them as they hurried under the cover of Vicious’ shop awning. Fanny sighed in relief. At least they’d be able to wait here until the rain stopped. “The rain in such stardust,” Fanny muttered.
Cuphead snorted. “It’s cold enough to be cussin’ ice.” He agreed quietly. “Thanks for dinner.”
“Sure.” Fanny shrugged. “Thanks for going to that damn event last week.”
Cup snorted. “That wasn’t something you had to pay me back for, ya know. The food there alone was enough.”
Fanny shrugged again, just a small movement of her shoulder, still staring out over the rain-covered street, “You seemed so awkward in that suit.” She snickered.
Cup raised a brow. “Funny, I think I remember hearin’ the word ‘handsome’ comin’ from you at some point.”
“That was Dovil,” Fanny scoffed.
Cup rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, how could I forget. She was sure to talk my handle off every chance she got. She really likes those big shindigs, huh?”
“Yeah, she’s a party girl,” Fanny sighed.
“Oh please, like you ain’t.” Cup scoffed. “You like your nightlife too.”
Yeah, because it kept her out of the house and let her see more people than coworkers, patients, and her husband. “It’s nice to remember that everything isn’t hospital gowns and uniforms,” Fanny said.
Cup raised a brow at her like he knew it was an edited response. “Huh, well, ready to get home and kiss your husband good night?”
Fanny flicked her ears up. Cup didn’t bring Brute up often and the few times he had, there had been that edge in his voice, hard as steel and as sharp as a knife. It wasn’t there now. Fanny tried to find anything to hint at anger or resentment, but it wasn’t there. It was as casual as his comment about the weather.
“In this weather? I might have to consider getting a boat before thinking about going home.” Fanny deflected. This was one of the reasons it was so hard to figure out Cuphead. The minute she had something pinned, something she was sure about, he’d surprise her. Like, Fanny knew Dovil hated Brute. Nothing was going to change that. The feeling was mutual between them.
But with Cup?
A complete mystery. He had been all buddy-buddy with him that evening he and his brother came to the house. Then he said he’d rather be her friend on Christmas. Then he would run into Brute and be chummy. After he found out about the arguments she’d have with him, Cup had looked like he wanted to murder him. For a little while, Fanny thought he would. She had been afraid he would actually. Then...then she has to sit at home and listen to her husband go on and on about his drinking night with Cup and what a pal he was two weeks later.
She wasn’t sure which was the act and which was the real Cuphead sometimes. She’d like to think the one that argued with her constantly was the real one. But she wasn’t ready to be played a fool either.
“That’s a pretty serious face you’re makin’.” Cup said and dug in his pocket. He pulled out his little silver case of cigarettes. Fanny wrinkled her nose. “You okay?”
“I hate the smell of those things,” Fanny said.
Cup paused in putting it in his mouth. He eyed her and smirked. “Is that right?” He stuck it in his mouth and lit his finger. “That’s too bad.” Fanny stared at the gentle blue magic. When had the sight of that color become commonplace to her? Magic. At one point it had been shocking. Amazing. Awe-inspiring even. Now it was just a showy lighter. She was still curious though. Like if it was warm in his hands or not.
He took a deep breath, the end glowed bright and he let the blue glow die. He glanced over to her. “So you didn’t answer my question,” he let the smoke out slowly, away from her, but she could still smell it.
She hummed.
“What were you thinkin’ about so hard over there?” Cup asked, gazing back at her.
“Nothing important,” Fanny said and brushed a hand over her ear, it came away damp and cold. Stars, she wanted a hot shower when she got home.
“You sure about that? Seemed serious to me,” Cup commented.
Fanny wrinkled her nose. “Why’s that?” Cup turned to face her and leaned over a hint. For a heartstopping moment, Fanny had the wild idea he was going to kiss her. Instead, he lifted the hand that didn’t have the cigarette in it and tapped her forehead. Fanny stared up at him in bewilderment as he smirked at her.
“‘Cause baby doll, you get this little knot between your brows when you’re thinkin’ miserable thoughts.” Cup chuckled.
Fanny scowled and pushed his hand away. “I told you not to call me that! Where did that even come from?”
Cup snickered, but didn’t move away. She took a step back instead. “What? I think it fits.” He said.
Fanny shook her head. “No, when did you decide that a pet name is fine?” Fitting?
Cup took another drag of his smoke stick. “You’re the one that asked me to be your date to that ritzy shindig. Had to make it convincin’ and all.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “And I like nicknames. When one sticks, it sticks.”
“That’s not a good excuse!” Fanny scowled and crossed her arms. “And what the hell do you mean ‘it fits,’ huh?”
Cup’s grin was the same smile Fanny had seen on little brats when they thought they had gotten away with some clever stardust. “What? You don’t like it? Maybe if I explain.” He said amused. “I was gonna go with ‘baby girl’ but you are definitely not a girl. You’re a woman.” He said looking her up and down. Slowly and with appreciation.
Fanny’s eyes widened and she felt her face warm a little. He was not smooth. Not at all. His husky voice didn’t make butterflies take off in her stomach. That was ridiculous. She’d dealt with tons of other men and their crummy pick-up lines! This was no different! Cad! Schmuck!
“So something else to go with ‘baby’ because babe wasn’t enough and princess had the same ‘girl’ problem, but queen sounded egotistical,” Cup said like it made all the sense in the world. He let out another slow breath of smoke and nastiness. “Doll was what I settled on because you are beautiful enough, you like to dress up enough, and a few other things that are just so doll-like with you.”
Fanny ignored that he had called her beautiful. “And the baby part? Why did that have to stay?”
Cup gave her a surprised look. “Why? Because of your attitude, why else?”
Fanny gasped and started hitting his shoulder as he laughed at her. “You schmuck! You little-I can’t believe you!” She whacked him with her bag. He caught her wrist.
“See? Hittin’ me and throwin’ a tantrum.” Cup pointed out. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you it’s not nice to hit?”
Fanny stiffened. “Let me go.”
Cup raised a brow at her, noticing her tone, and dropped her wrist. “Fine. But I don’t like bein’ hit.” His tone was kept light.
“I don’t like your stupid nickname.” Fanny tossed back and held her hands close to her sides.
Cup shrugged and finished his cigarette. “That’s too bad. I don’t feel like droppin’ it.” He dropped the end of the used cigarette and scuffed it out with his heel.
They stood in silence again, the rain was now more like waterfalls. Stars, she was so swimming home. Fanny turned that comment over in her head again and again. But I don’t like being hit. Cuphead? She knew he was violent. She’d seen hints of it. The news had covered it. He was a thug in many regards. That statement just didn’t fit into the image she had of him. He had to be lying.
“Why?” Fanny asked, the pounding of the rain bugging her ears.
“Uh?” Cup asked.
“Why don’t you like being hit? Why even say it? I mean, you’ve come to me more beat up than any other moron I’ve ever seen, time and again. I thought you were the type that jumped into bar fights.” Fanny asked and gestured to him. “I’ve seen the scars.”
Cup snorted. “Please. I’m not gettin’ inta fights for some damn rush. I fight when I feel like I have to. Sure, maybe somethin’ ticks me off, but I never go in with the damn mindset of, ‘star,s I hope that mook can cussin’ punch’ or whatever. It ain’t the first answer, it should be the damn last.”
“Should?” Fanny raised a thin brow.
Cup smirked and pocketed his hands. “Not perfect, remember? Got a temper and a smart mouth, so sometimes I really do wanna lay a schmuck down, but that’s on them, not because I want a fight.”
Fanny blinked slowly. “I don’t get it. So if it’s not the adrenaline rush then it’s just because you’re ticked?” Her ears fell. He seemed to be contradicting himself.
Cup snorted. “No baby doll. You have it wrong. Even if I’m ticked, that doesn’t mean I’m gonna start swingin’. Stars. If it was like that I wouldn’t have any cussin’ friends.” He rolled his eyes.
Fanny furrowed her brows.
Cup chuckled. “Okay, how about this, you’ve seen some aftermath, but have you actually ever seen me in a fight?” He looked at her expectantly.
Fanny thought about that. No, she hadn’t. In all this time she’d actually never seen Cup fight. Hell, he’d even come by once with the fella he had been fighting! A misunderstanding.
“The fact is sweetheart, most fights I get dragged into, I’m on the defense. I usually rather talk stardust out and not waste the energy.” Cup shrugged again like it was no big deal. “Fights I start are ‘cause I feel like I have ta.”
Fanny frowned. Now that really didn’t sound right. Cup was a mook for action. Talk it out? Have to? “That doesn’t hurt your delicate ego? Talking it out?”
Cup laughed and leaned toward her, in her space once again. “Oh, my ego is fine.” He said lowly, his eyes danced with amusement. “I don’t need other people for my damn ego.”
Fanny snorted. “I bet. It needs to be knocked down a peg or two.”
Cup chuckled again and straightened. “Why so interested in my fightin’ habits anyway? Worried I’m due for another checkup?”
Fanny’s eyes flitted down his chest. Where the scars would be. Where . . . she still didn’t know how he could have survived that.
Suddenly, his hand was on her chin, and pulled it up. “I’m fine.” He pressed with words. “You can stop worryin’ about that. Seriously.” His tone was annoyed, but his eyes were gentle. He let her go again and this time he was the one to step back.
“I’m not worried.” It was almost an impulse to deny it. “Just wondering how ticked you’d have to be to get in a fight that serious.” Cup sighed and shrugged. Still refusing to talk about it then. “Then again with your smart mouth, it was probably justified.” She said lightly. “I’m sure I’d leave a mark too.”
Cup burst with surprised laughter. “Wha-you?” He gave her a befuddled look.
Fanny looked taken aback at him, but made sure it was mild compared to his reaction. “What? I’ll be ready for the day I tick you off enough for that fight.”
“Oh please,” Cup rolled his eyes. “I’d never touch you.”
Fanny stared at him. “Oh really?” She said. “Something moonrocks about not hitting women?”
Cup gave her a look that said, ‘are you serious?’ before pocketing his hands again. “Nah. I’ve had tussles with Cala, Mugs’ girl, you’ve seen her. And Alice too.”
Fanny blinked. Mugman’s girlfriend? That soft-looking girl with the high-pitched voice? And Alice? He had fought Alice? “They can sure as hell dish out a wallop too.” Cup said simply.
“Wait, what?” Fanny said. Damnit. She really couldn’t pin him down. Now he was throwing confusion on to others too. It was so damn frustrating!
Cup laughed. “Stars, you face!” His broad shoulders shook. “Cala Maria is not a pushover. No way in hell. If that fight had just been me or Mugs I think we woulda been out. And Alice is a trained fighter.”
“They-she is? They are?” Fanny stared at him, not sure she could believe him. He had to be messing with her.
Cup nodded. “Yeah. But it was just friendly sparrin’ with Alice. A real fight with her, damn, she’s scary. I wouldn’t be too confident in my chances.” Was Fanny hearing this right? “But if it was you? Hell even if it was Holly now, I wouldn’t.”
Fanny frowned. “And why’s that? We haven’t hit the wrong buttons yet? We aren’t tough enough?”
Cup rolled his eyes. “Because you ain’t fighters. Ya wouldn’t want to. Not really. At most, I’d stop ya from hurtin’ me and that’s about it. But I’d never go after either of you.”
Fanny hummed, not really believing it. There was something he was leaving off. Fanny could imagine the ‘but’ at the end of that sentence. Before she could push for more, he spoke.
“What about you?” Cup asked.
“Huh?” Fanny perked her ears.
“Well, what sends you flyin’?” Cup asked. “Besides accurate nicknames.”
“You schmuck,” Fanny muttered with a scowl. “Nothing.”
“Liar,” he sang with a chuckle. “I told you the truth.”
Fanny glared at him. “Stupidity.”
“No, that can’t be right.” Cup smiled. “I’m still standin’ after all.”
“Shut up,” Fanny scoffed. “It annoys me.”
“Funny, I seem to be an exception,” Cup pointed out.
Fanny shook her head. “You’re not stupid.”
Cuphead widened his eyes. “Now I know you’re lyin’.”
Fanny was taken aback by that. She looked up at him, shocked.
“You’ve called me stupid a dozen times before,” Cup said and grinned.
“What? I-”
“And moron, and mook, and idiot, and nimrod, and palooka, an-”
“Shut up!” Fanny snapped.
Cup raised a brow. “Somethin’ the matter there Fanny?”
She turned away from him and crossed her arms. He was being a schmuck!
“Are you poutin’? Stars, what the cuss did I say?” Cup asked.
Fanny grit her teeth. “No! I’m not cussing pouting!”
“I’m just tryin’ to figure out what you’re tellin’ me,” Cup said. “You said stupidity ticks you off, but you’ve called me a number of names for stupid and yet you’re always offerin’ to get me dinner. So which is it, Fanny?”
“Oh no. It’s definitely you’re stupidity.” Fanny turned on him and stepped up to him to poke him in the chest. In that scar he hid under that shirt. “I can’t stand you when you’re being a moron. I even took a whack at you a little while ago.”
Cup raised a brow at her, “I don’t think so baby doll.” He was so damn tall. She refused to be intimated though. “See, I think you hate it when someone calls you out on your stardust.”
Fanny stepped back. “That’s ridiculous.” She scoffed easily.
“Nah, I think that’s when you really fight. When someone hits a little too close to home. But you use words, instead of fists. A bit dirty, but you also ain’t afraid to bring claws if you have to, right?” Cup pulled out his hand and gestured to her.
“Please.” Fanny scoffed a little more forcefully.
“And that’s why you’re really good at pushin’ people away.” Cup continued like she hadn’t said anything.
“Excuse me?” Fanny shot a glare at him.
“Yep. That’s definitely it. You don’t like the hard truth so anyone that pushes too hard is pushed out immediately.” Cup said. “And that’s why you are constantly puttin’ me down too because I ain’t fooled and I don’t let it go.”
Fanny blinked. It was like he smacked her. It was the same core deep shock, but there wasn’t really a physical sting. This was one she felt in her stomach. “Y-Not fooled? Are you cussing kidding me? You hadn’t a damn clue until that old bat had-”
“I had a guess,” Cup cut her off neatly. “I couldn’t figure out how you and he were a thing. Neither of ya wear a ring. There are a bunch of people that don’t though. That wasn’t enough. So, I only had what I could see from you and him and especially together. But despite the damn pictures in your house, any touch between you two doesn’t really have affection.” He gazed down at her measuredly. “You two hardly share eye contact. Especially you. The act you put on-”
Fanny raised a hand and slapped him. Her hand stung from the hit. Cup turned his head to face her again. There was a fire in his eyes. Burning anger. A smile spread across his face. It was sharp and cruel. “See? That’s what sends you swingin’. The truth and any mook that figures out your little games so you can’t cussin’ mess with them and use or push ‘em away like you want.”
“Shut up! You don’t get it! You don’t cussing know anything. How dare you!” She hissed and raised her hand again.
He caught it. Fanny gasped. Cup narrowed his eyes and leaned in so they were almost nose to nose. “I said I don’t like bein’ hit.” His voice was low, raspy, and the fire in his eyes was fierce. A part of her was admittedly scared, not that she’d ever say that to him. There was another corner of her that actually . . . liked that fierceness.
“Let me go!” Fanny jerked her trapped hand uselessly. It might as well have been wrapped in steel.
“Then don’t hit me,” Cup said.
“You’re a thug!” Fanny spat.
Cup laughed. “For what? Not lettin’ you beat me up? For callin’ you out? Please baby doll, I have my own self-respect to look after. I’m not a welcome mat or a toy, and I don’t plan on bein’ treated like one.”
His grip loosened enough that she could yank her hand away. “Cuss you!” Fanny snapped and marched out into the rain, no longer caring about the cold water coming down in sheets. Stupid moron. Low life mook! What did he know? He had hardly ever seen her with Brute! And that damn dinner wasn’t for Cup! That had been for Brute’s quester heroes! If she had known it would have been Cup she would have thrown it in his damn face! Thug scum just wanted to get a rise out of her. He thought he could mess with her and then throw all her hardships in her face like that!
And then he was there, a hand on her shoulder, turning her around, and a scowl on his face. “Are you a moron?”
Fanny opened her mouth, but then his coat was tossed over her head. “Don’t answer that. Stars, does it always have to be the damn mountain climb with you?” Fanny pulled the coat around so she could see again. The big coat was enough to keep her...well it was too late to keep her dry. She was already soaked, but it was warm.
Fanny scowled from under it. “Maybe if you didn’t give me a damn hard time-”
“Me? I just stated what I’ve seen! What hard time? I’ve been patient as all hell with you. I haven’t cussin’ pushed at all!” Cup snapped. He threw his hands up. “Do you have any cussin’ idea how hard it’s been? Lettin’ you walk back into that place night after night?” He snapped. “Walk you home for your own damn safety? Are you cussin’ kiddin’ me? That damn place is the problem! If I wanted to bring ya to safety I’d take you back to the place I’m cussin’ stayin’!” he said with clenched fists.
Fanny stared at him with wide eyes as the rain pounded them. It drenched his hair and long sleeve sweater, making it cling to him. Water dripped off his straw and hair. What? He had to be joking! But the distress in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t. He seemed to suddenly realize what he said and turned away from her with a curse. “You’re kidding,” she said.
Cup wiped his head around to her. “No!” He snapped. She flinched and his expression gentled. “No. I’m not. This . . . lettin’ you go back to that house kills me, Fanny.”
Fanny’s chest tightened. “That’s my house.” She said in a small voice, almost drowned out by the rain.
Cup’s shoulders dropped, and he stepped up to her. She looked up at him, his eyes were on the ground between them, water dripping off his strange locks and down his face. “I know,” he said just as soft. “And I think you deserve better.”
Fanny raised a brow skeptically. “An overcrowded sick house is better?”
Cup let out a breath. It wasn’t a huff or a sigh, something in between. Then he looked at her, and that fire was back, but it wasn’t anger, it was something else that Fanny couldn’t quite put her finger on. “A group of people that would care and accept you.” Cup’s hand half lifted to her, but he stopped and dropped it. Fanny was surprised that she felt disappointed that he had stopped. “This is asinine. Let’s get out of this cussin’ rain. C’mon.” Cup turned to face the street. “We’re already soaked, so let’s get ya home.” He started to walk and again. It was like the fire went out, like the rain had smothered it.
Damnit. Damnit! Fanny’s hand shot out and grabbed his arm. Cup turned with a raised brow, but his eyes were guarded now, careful, wary, like he was worried he had said the wrong thing.
“Which is it?” Fanny demanded.
Cup furrowed his brows. “Whadda mean?”
“Which is it? Which one is the real you?” Fanny let him go and stepped up to glare up at him. “Is it the one that wants to take me with him or this beaten dog showing me home? Is it the one that goes to parties with me or the one that drinks with Brute? Are you the hero in the papers or the thug with a death glare? I can’t figure you out!” She snapped. “And I do! I hate that you know and that you judge me! I hate that you think I’m a weak little-”
“You’re not weak.” Cup cut her off.
Fanny flinched in surprise. He still looked defeated, but his mouth was a determined, stubborn line. “What?” Fanny was barely able to get the word out.
“You. Ain’t. Weak. Fanny, if I thought you were cussin’ weak I wouldn’t like ya so much. I wouldn’t walk ya home,” Cup said simply.
“But you said it was to keep me safe,” Fanny argued.
“Yeah, because there are some scumwads out here that don’t cussin’ deserve to breathe,” he said matter-of-factly. It was colder than the rain. “But you shouldn’t have to put up with them, and walkin’ with you ain’t a burden or nothin’ so . . . ” He trailed off and jerked his shoulder. “I dunno.”
Fanny stared at him.
Cup sighed and dropped his head, his soaked bangs hid his eyes. “The real me has been here the whole time Fanny. You, I’m real with you, but then I saw . . . It got to me, alright? I wanna kill him for it.” Fanny felt her throat go dry. The raw hatred and hurt in his tone made his voice rougher. “But I care about you more. If ya . . . It’s your life, and I don’t get to make your choices for ya. No matter how much they hurt, no matter—but I want to be here for you. I want to be your friend. I want ta help, and I can only do what you’ll let me because . . . ” He kept stopping and starting like he couldn’t find the words. “I hate him, baby doll.” Cup’s voice cracked. “But I’ll put up with him. I’ll force the smile for you.”
“Why?” she asked, feeling a lump in her own throat. She didn’t ask for him to do this. She took a step closer and she saw it. The pain in his eyes.
“Because you’re worth it.” He smiled, but it was the saddest look she had ever seen.
“No, I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I didn’t ask you to do this. To do that! If I’m such a pain to you, why don’t you just go!” Fanny demanded, but her voice didn’t hold the fire she wanted it to. It was the same hushed tone as him. Like any louder might break one of them. “I’m not making you stay. I don’t want your damn pity.”
Cup shook his head. “It’s not pity. I like you, Fanny. I like spendin’ time with you. If I have to jump a few hoops to do that, fine, but I’m not playin’ games either. I’ll be real with you, and it will cussin’ hurt.” Cup jaw tightened. “So if you want me to go, fine. I’ll go. I’ll leave, and you’ll never have to see me again.” He swallowed, and his eyes flashed for the briefest moment. It reminded her of that night. “But I really hope you don’t. I hope you want me to stay.”
Fanny . . . didn’t know what to do.
Here this man stood before her, baring his soul, and she was at a complete loss. He had admitted to hating her husband. He admitted to wanting to kill him, and something told Fanny that he meant it. Really meant it. That he had all that bottled up behind that smile . . . because he wanted to spend time with her? It was insane. Who went this far for someone like Fanny? He said he wouldn’t play games, but look how far he was already bending for her.
With a guilty pang, Fanny realized that some time ago she’d have reveled in his anger. That she’d have provoked him to fight Brute. But not now. Not anymore. Now she just felt guilty and frustrated. “Why are you putting this all on me? You’re the one that’s—You think you can just—” Why was she struggling for words? “You think I care if you go, Cuphead?”
Cup tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “I dunno. Do you?”
Yes. “No!” She snapped.
He snorted. “Okay. Well then.” He turned, and a spear of fear went through her before anger overtook it. He was leaving. Finally, he had had enough. Well fine. Fanny dropped her gaze. Who needed the schmuck? She was better off on he—
A hand grabbed her wrist. Her eyes snapped up to his, wide with surprise. “Are you comin’ or do you want to be a popsicle here in the mornin’?”
Fanny blinked. He laced their hands together and led her through the icy rain. His palm was warm surrounding hers even though they had both been standing out here in this mess. Stars, she couldn’t feel her toes anymore. Fanny wished she could figure Cuphead out. She felt like this would be a lot easier if she could. She wished he wasn’t such a mess of conflicting things. Thoughtful but rash. So immature but then he could see through people like they were glass. A thug, but one that didn’t want to fight.
How could someone be so violent . . . and so gentle?
She just didn’t get it.