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“Okay, so Tony has no idea ?” Peter asks, a little stunned, and reaches out for one of Happy’s fries. It’s pretty impressive, really, that the genius with several PhDs still haven’t figured out that his trusted bodyguard/private driver/head of security/best friend is dating the guy he’s been ordered to follow around for five years.
“No clue.” Happy shakes his head and swats Peter’s hand away. He drags his plate a little closer to himself, and points an accusing finger at his late night companion. “Eat your own damn food, I’m a large man.”
Big, brown eyes stare at him with a matching pout and Happy responds with a raised eyebrow as he pops a fry in his mouth to punctuate his point. “Don’t even think about it. You’ve already devoured half a cow.”
Peter snorts, and slurps at his milkshake, looking awfully innocent, and Happy doesn’t buy it for a second. “Are you sure he doesn’t know anything, though?”
“Yes, Pete. If he knew, or even suspected anything, I’d be a dead man.”
Peter rolls his eyes, and crosses his arms on the table, leaning over and clearing his throat. “So what you’re saying, is that we should up our game a little, see how long it takes for him to catch up?”
“No. I’m not saying that at all. We don’t need to piss off Iron Man just for shits and giggles.”
“Happy, babe… I piss off Iron Man daily . It’s a thing.”
Happy glares at him, ignoring the fluttering eyelashes and mischievous grin. They are not going up against an avenger just to see how colorful their deaths will be. Peter might be bench pressing semi trucks, but an angry Tony Stark has lasers at his disposal. They're not going there. "No. Not happening."
Happy is clearly not the superior one in this relationship, because only a few days later, Peter is in his lap, devouring his mouth and making the most pornographic sounds in the history of pornographic sounds, grinding his spandex clad ass down on Happy's increasingly tight dress pants. In the briefing room at the tower.
Someone could come in at any minute, and they most likely will. And if they don't catch them, they will very likely question the fact that Peter is actually on time for once, or early, which is even more suspicious. And then they'll wonder what the hell Happy is doing there.
It wasn't a hard mission by any means. But Happy is not patient, despite working for Tony for most of his adult life. Or maybe because of it. So when he saw Peter swinging onto the landing pad, stumbling a little on his landing, he was out of his seat in the living room at the penthouse and rushing down the halls to check on him.
Peter is fine, though. A few scrapes and bruises that will have healed within the hour, and a little tired, but apparently not tired enough, because he all but pushes Happy into the briefing room when they almost run into each other and, well… Happy's in love. He can use that as an excuse to bend and obey to Peter's whims and needs and wants.
“I missed you,” he murmurs, and locks his mouth around Happy’s earlobe, and Happy, in all his might, manages to suppress a groan from escaping. His hands, however, have their own mission, and somehow glues themselves to Peter’s hips, earning him a low purring sound he didn’t know Peter could even make until a few weeks ago. It sends shivers down his spine, an electric kind of reaction that the spider in his lap with enhanced everything , definitely picks up on.
Happy can feel the soft lips stretch out against his skin, seconds before another rumbling sound travels up and vibrates against his ear. “You like that, huh?” he whispers, and even that makes the hair on his arms stand up in interest. This is bad. This is really, really bad. They have to stop before they’ve gone too far. Happy actually values his life, despite running after Iron Man for over two decades.
“We have to stop, Pete,” he manages to push out between desperate breaths for clean air, and uses the hands still mounted to Peter’s skin tight suit to shove him a little farther away so he can look at his face more clearly, and get the point across. He’s met with a childish pout and wide eyes, making him want to smack the back of his head and press him back against his chest at the same time. “Don’t. I’m not buying it now, anymore than I did when you were in high school,” he states, and raises a brow.
Peter in turn, shuffles out of Happy’s lap, adjusting himself as he stands, leaning down to peck Happy on the nose. “You’ll make it up to me tonight, yeah?” Those brown, lively eyes are so close, peering into his soul, through all the cracks he’s made in the brickwalls Happy built over a lifetime to protect himself.
“Definitely,” he smiles, and drags a thumb carefully over a cut on Peter’s cheek. He leans into the touch, and places a soft kiss on Happy’s palm before he steps away and backflips over the table to settle in one of the chairs on the other side. Just in time too, it seems. He winks just as the doors open and a hoard of sweaty muscle men fall through, having a very heated discussion about something no one who’s not involved could ever pick up on.
Tony is waving his arms around, clearly irritated about whatever they’re arguing about, and Steve is stomping over to the edge of the room, back straight and trying to keep his dignity intact. So Tony is right, and Steve doesn’t want to admit it. Clint is toying with his hearing aids, not wanting to be involved in any way, Bruce is rubbing his temples, slumping down in the chair next to Peter, and Natasha, observant as she is, is staring at Happy with an amused glint in her eye.
Happy sinks down a little, trying to turn invisible under her scrutiny. He doesn’t need all the attention turned to him. Technically, he has no business being in here at all. She doesn’t look like she’s about to point it out though, but leans against the wall at the far end of the room, eyes wandering, and Happy has to grip his pant leg to stop himself from pinching his nose. They are so busted.
Rhodey crashes in last, and sinks into the chair next to Happy, leaning against his shoulder, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Man, is this ever going to end?” he mutters, and Happy can barely hear him over the complicated nonsense spewing from Tony’s mouth and Steve’s loud defenses. He chances a glance over at Peter, who’s leaning his head on the table, mirroring Bruce and probably talking science, since Bruce is looking as invested as he can in his burned out state.
So maybe it’s not that obvious that Happy has taken claim to every avenger’s baby spider, but Happy is still nervous and prepared to jump out the nearest window if anyone should point out that he doesn’t really belong. He knows, realistically, that it’s not unusual for him to be present. He’s part of this gang too. Even if he’s mostly cheering them on from the sidelines. No one has ever pointed out that he shouldn’t be there before. But after he started seeing Peter, the paranoia of everyone’s wrath turned on him has kept him distant from shit like this. Or anything really, that involves Peter and the others at the same time.
The meeting wasn’t anything special, and no one got to say anything other than Tony and Steve, and Natasha when she finally had enough and ordered everyone back out of the room. They were all invited to eat indian take out, when the agitated idiots managed to calm down a little, but Peter, the perfect liar that he is, said something obscure about homework he had to finish up and that he unfortunately couldn’t make it. Happy is constantly surprised. At times he can’t lie for shit, but then he can tell everyone the sky is falling down and they’ll all prepare for doomsday, even if the sun is shining and he’s just bored.
Tony just nodded along, not thinking about the fact that Peter’s spring semester ended weeks ago, and told Happy to make sure his pseudo son got home safe. And that, right there, is one of the many reasons Happy doesn’t want anyone to just catch on to the fact that they’re dating. Peter is the strongest person in the room most of the time, and the only one who spends all his free time making sure the people of New York are safe when the sky isn’t actually falling down too. And yet, Tony, more than anyone else, treats him like a defenseless baby when he doesn’t need him for anything.
Happy doesn’t need to make sure Peter gets home safe. Peter is perfectly capable of swinging home on his own. He’ll most likely stop a few robberies on the way too. Peter doesn’t need Tony to act as a father figure. From what Happy’s learned over the years, he doesn’t even want another father in his life. He doesn’t want or need anyone to make sure he’s alright. He’s been running around in spandex for years now. He knows what he’s doing. And it irks Happy in a totally new way that no one gets that.
Peter doesn’t argue though, not this time at least. And no one seems to recognize that either. Happy supposes he should be relieved about it, but everything about this is making him a little on edge. They have talked about keeping it a secret for the time being, just go with the flow and see where it leads them. They are an unconventional couple, and they both know some people might not agree or support them, so finding their ground and learning to know each other looked like the best idea at the time.
But it’s been a while now, they’ve been together for months, and Happy, cliche as it sounds, can’t even imagine a time in the future where Peter’s not by his side anymore. He doesn’t want to hide what he’s feeling. He’s not about to shout if from the top of the roof for everyone to hear, but it would be nice to be able to hold his hand, or invite friends over for dinner together, or have Peter leaning against him when they watch movies together at the tower.
It’s not that easy, when Tony has taken it upon him to be Peter’s new dad, and the other avengers look at him as the newbie who doesn’t know anything. And then there’s the fact that May Parker is Peter’s aunt. And Happy is not in any way prepared to go up against her. Peter might be an adult, and living on his own, doing the grown up life as well as he can in between college classes, internships, knocking out bad guys and selling selfies of himself to the most hated paper in the city, but he’s still May’s little boy, and in Happy’s opinion, she’s the only one with the right to slice his throat should she want to, when this relationship eventually sees the light of day.
“Happy! Lights,” Peter snaps his fingers in front of his face, dragging him out of his self destructive thoughts, and he offers a weak smile, his foot working on autopilot as he maneuvers his way through the busy afternoon streets of Manhattan. “What universe did you fuck off to?” he asks, brow raised and nose scrunched up, studying Happy’s poor attempt at looking calm. “What is going on with you lately, anyway?”
Well, guess it’s time to come clean about this shit show of an emotional rollercoaster, and ruin the night before it even starts. “We’ll talk about it when we get home.” Because there’s absolutely no way he’s having this meltdown in the car, in the middle of New York.
Peter nods, slowly, and slumps back down in his seat, biting on his thumbnail. His leg is bouncing so wildly Happy is sure it can be seen from the outside, and he takes the fastest route to his apartment building, sparing Peter for more nerves than necessary.
“Are you breaking it off?” is the first thing that comes out of Peter’s mouth when the door closes behind them. Happy turns around, slowly, and Peter looks like he’s ready to leave again any minute. Shit.
“What? No. I—” he takes a slow breath, dragging a hand over his face. This is not off to a great start. “I don’t want that. Not at all.” It’s a little embarrassing, that he can’t find any other words to explain what the hell is going on in that thick skull of his, but he’s never been good with words. “It’s— It’s the secrecy,” he finally gets out, and hangs his jacket by the entrance so he doesn’t have to look at Peter when he talks. They did agree to not tell anyone. It shouldn’t be a problem.
“So you agree, then? We should be a little more careless and see what happens?” Peter steps up to him, long arms circling around Happy’s middle, a dazzling smile covering his whole face as he stares with a mix of hope and trickery swimming across his eyes. Happy can’t do anything other than sigh. He could probably ask if they can’t just do it like normal people do. Just walk in and announce to everyone that they’re dating. But this is Peter, and Happy knows, so very well, that Peter doesn’t do anything the way everyone else is doing it, simply because of that fact.
He places a soft kiss on his forehead, meaty fingers tangling in the brown curls at the nape of his neck. He is so doomed. “This is gonna be fun. I can’t wait until Ned and Harry figures it out,” he murmurs, and drags his nose along Happy’s stubble. “Dinner first. You wanna go on a date with me, Happy Hogan?” The tone is teasing, lighthearted, and Happy snorts. Whatever Peter is planning, it’s not gonna be boring , that’s for damn sure.
“We’re having a dinner date right across the street from the tower? Are you shitting me?” Happy and Peter is standing outside the indian restaurant that Tony ordered dinner from, holding hands, sweaty and shaking, and Peter is trying really hard no not fall over in laughter, probably by the face Happy is making, as he frantically looks around for whichever avenger lost the bet and has to walk over to pick up their delivery.
“Relax, I’ll tell you if anyone shows up. If they haven’t been here already. But they have the best tikka masala, and it was really hard not to choose them over you when I had the chance earlier, so. Here we are. After you,” he grins, bouncing on his feet and holding the door open. Pretending to be the gentleman they both know he’ll never really be.
“You’re a dick,” he mutters, and narrows his eyes as he enters the restaurant. He can hear Peter behind him, cheerfully mumbling something about how Happy loves his dick, and Happy just knows , this is gonna end in a disaster.
Midway through dinner, Happy’s phone starts going off, and Peter is pointedly not looking at him. “What did you do?” he asks as he fishes his phone out of his pocket, and watches the rapidly incoming texts from one Tony Stark. “Parker… What the fuck did you do?”
Peter has the decency to look apologetic, and reluctantly pushes his own phone across the table, screen lighting up with an instagram picture of their two plates, Happy’s hand is visible, holding a wine glass, and his shirt and tie is standing out pretty well from the otherwise reddish color that covers the entire picture. “I didn’t say anything about it being you , though,” he mutters, and looks up through his eyelashes, looking genuinely sorry. “I can take it down, if you want.”
Happy keeps one hand on Peter’s phone, stopping him from taking it back, and looks at his own screen. Tony is pissed , but not because he’s on a date with Peter. No, he’s pissed because Peter is on a date , and Tony doesn’t know who he’s with, and apparently that’s Happy’s fault, because he was supposed to bring him home safe. “Leave the picture, Pete. Tony is just overreacting. Your date needs to be cleared and stalked before you do anything.”
If Happy could, he would sit down and have a long, hard talk to Tony about his need for control over everyone and everything. Peter isn’t a child that needs coddling. He has a built in warning signal that goes absolutely haywire if he’s in any kind of danger. His instincts are far better than any program Tony could ever develop on his own.
Peter hums, and reaches his hand over the table, placing it over Happy’s, that’s still covering the phone. “You know… I’ll gladly throw him through a wall if he tries anything with you. I won’t let you take the blow alone.” a bony thumb caresses Happy’s compact palm, tracing nonsensical patterns over it, and Happy can’t help but picture the scenario where Peter has to protect him from his own best friend.
“Let’s hope you don’t have to. I’m head of security after all. I’ve already cleared your date for you.” The statement earns him one of those sparkling beams that has him weak in the knees and threatens his heart with temporarily shutting down. He leans over the table, nose to nose, eye to eye, and that mischievous glint is back.
“You should tell him that. And then we’re headed out of here,” he murmurs, lips gracing the corner of his mouth. Happy can only nod, slightly. The panic of being in public like this settling deep in his gut. He swallows it down as best he can, comforted by the warm thumb still moving around on top of his hand. He’s not alone in this. They’re doing this together. As a couple.
Happy feels a surge of dejavu washing over him the next time he drives Peter to the tower, and Tony is waiting for them outside the lab. It’s been a few years since Peter officially turned down the Avengers, but Happy will never forget it. The pride he saw in Peter when he stood his ground, and the dumbfounded look on Tony’s face when he got a no.
This time, though, there’s no invitation to join the team of misfits. They all know by now, that putting a leash on Spider-Man is a hopeless cause. He’ll do whatever he thinks is best, regardless of the previous plan. He still joins them, if he’s in the area or if it concerns his part of the city, but it’s more of a surprise than anything else, whether he’ll show up or not.
Tony wants to talk to Peter, alone. And he doesn’t look like he’s got the time to wait for it to start. But Happy wouldn’t have followed Peter up the elevator if he didn’t need to talk to Tony too. And he’s not about to wait until Peter is headed home for the night. He’s got other shit to tend to.
It’s not important , per se, but him and Peter have made some sort of plan for how to go about this, and it includes Happy telling Tony about the supposed date, and then Peter would start gushing about it all lovesick and heart eyed to everyone willing to listen. And Happy doesn’t do well with changing plans— he needs to get this talk with Tony out of the way so he can focus on his actual job.
“We can talk all day, Mr. Stark, Happy doesn’t look like he’s very patient today,” Peter says, and waves to them both before he disappears around a corner, not bothering to wait for Tony to complain about the formal use of his name or an affirmative that he’s idea is actually okay.
“Do you think he’ll ever call me Tony?” He’s staring after where Peter took off, looking a little resigned, and Happy kinda wants to tell him that Peter does it just to taunt him at this point. He doesn’t do that, though, because—
“I heard that!” Peter hollers down the hallway, and Happy snorts instead. Tony points wildly in the direction Peter went, looking at Happy for some kind of help. Not that there’s much he could do about it. Whether they’d be dating or not.
“Anyway, you had information about this guy he’s seeing?”
Everything goes surprisingly according to plan. Except that no one seems to notice anything. They’re not overly obvious or anything, But they’re a little more physical with each other when they’re around other people. They sit next to each other and Peter will lean against his side when they watch movies at the tower. They hold hands out in public, and go on regular dates without trying to hide from anyone.
The only one (aside from Natasha, who simply smirks and winks at them from time to time) who’s noticed anything, is one May Parker, and she had apparently known all along. Peter doesn’t know how to lie to her , apparently.
So it’s all just a mess of nerves and anxiety for nothing. Not a single comment when Peter just about drags Happy out of the tower so they can go home. No one has mentioned Happy’s more friendly tone towards the idiot who chooses to read books upside down on the ceiling, making sure everyone else has to step around him. It’s all very anticlimactic, and it only fuels Happy’s nerves, and Peter’s impatience is running low, to say the least.
“Hey, Hap?”
They’re sitting at Happy’s kitchen one morning, Peter is half asleep still, looking all kinds of adorable with his hair curling in every direction, bent over the breakfast bar, coffee in one hand, and holding his head up with the other. He’s wearing Happy’s shirt, at least 14 numbers too big on his slender frame, yawning and nodding off in between each sip of the hot drink.
“You need to not stay out until 4 am five nights in a row,” Happy points out, and settles on the bar stool next to him. It takes exactly 0.3 seconds for Peter’s head to swing from his support on his hand to lean against Happy instead. Gravitating towards human contact instinctively.
“Yeah, when the gangs downtown take a break I’ll move into your bed for a week.” he mutters between long yawns, and Happy has to bite his tongue to not suggest he just moves in full time. That’s not appropriate yet. Even though Peter has been sneaking in more and more stuff and stays here more than he does at his own place or even May’s, pretending he doesn’t know what is going on.
Peter’s phone goes off, and he doesn’t even look at it before groaning and slamming his head in the countertop, making Happy wince. He manages to grab the offending piece of technology, and there’s a couple of seconds where Happy is planning out how to get Peter a new phone as fast as possible if the current one ends up across the city or as dust on the countertop.
“Peter Parker’s service. I’m not available at the moment, please don’t leave a message or try again later,” he mutters into the granite, and Happy leans back a little, just so he won’t be in frame of the video call. Because why call like a normal person? Maybe Tony likes to see how pissed off he can make Peter at a distance. Whatever it is, he’s clearly amused, looking way too awake for 6.30 on a Wednesday morning.
“Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Parker—”
“Ew, no. Don’t ever call me that again.”
“ — I could use your help. Like, kind of urgent help.” Tony steps away from the camera, and the suit forms around him, before the screen turns black and the call is disconnected. Peter sighs, flipping the phone out of his hand, and it lands on the couch at the other end of the apartment.
“I hate mornings. Can I boycott mornings? I’m gonna send a complaint to whoever decided mornings is a thing we need,” he’s not talking to Happy, he knows. Just muttering nonsense to himself as he shuffles out of the bar stool, shrugging the tent-like shirt off of himself. He lets it pool around his ankles as he walks, leaving it in a heap on the floor, giving Happy the perfect view of naked Spider-ass as he hunts down his suit that ended up all over the living room when he stumbled through the window earlier in the morning.
“Hate is a strong word, Mr. Parker,” Happy teases, eyeing up the slender body that pads barefoot around, picking up a glove and a boot. He wrinkles his nose and bends down to grab his blue pants.
“Oh God, ew. It sounds even worse when you say it.” Peter snaps his head up, turning to glare at Happy. “What would you think if I suddenly started calling you Mr. Hogan, huh? Or worse, Harold ,” his eyes widen comically, as if saying Happy’s name is some kind of aha-moment. “Oh my God. Your name is actually Harold Hogan.” Okay, so it was a big realization. It makes Happy scrunch up his nose regardless, and Peter points an accusing finger at him, glove dangling from his grip. “Exactly.”
Happy is watching the large screen in the penthouse living area at the tower, clenching and unclenching his hands on his knees as Peter, Tony and the others are trying to keep the city from falling apart.
Nick Fury is standing beside him, his team of Shield Agents are buzzing around behind them, having set up some kind of base in Tony’s private home, like it’s just an everyday thing for them to do. Happy wanted to argue about it, but he can’t find the energy to fight him right now.
The rest of the tower is locked down, Pepper is screaming into the phone, Maria Hill is barking orders at everyone and Happy has never felt so useless in his entire life.
Captain America is running into a collapsing building in one corner of the screen, Hawkeye is shooting explosive arrows from a rooftop in the other end, Iron Man is flying in circles, dodging buildings and people and bullets from every angle. Peter is sitting on the Hulk’s back, as they run through the streets, throwing fists and webs in such a synchronic move that Happy has to double check his vision when he sees it.
It’s chaos. It’s terrifying, and almost as bad as that time the aliens came through the sky. Only this time it’s people. Turned into some kind of deformed lizards, and he remembers vaguely Peter talking about a scientist friend of his and some lizard serum, scolding himself for not paying closer attention.
And then Peter jumps off Bruce’s back, and disappears from the screen. Tony is yelling after him, Steve is yelling at Tony, and Nick hangs his head in resignation, sighing. Happy grinds his teeth together and straightens his back, staring at where Peter disappeared. Come back, come back, come back.
“Stark. Don’t you dare,” Fury warns, pointing a finger at the screen, and Tony scoffs, diving into an alley, stopping by a hole in the ground. “We need you on the streets, Stark. The kid can take care of himself.”
At least someone understands, is all Happy can think, even as he internally prays for Tony to be himself and run after Peter anyway. Peter would hate it, Fury would hate it, Pepper would kill Tony herself and the already strained relationship between Tony and Steve would end up even worse.
No, Peter probably has an idea. He knows what he's doing. He'll come back, hopefully in one piece, after he's saved the day in the shadows. It doesn't do much to Happy's rapidly more panicky heart, however. He hates this part of being on the sideline. He hates this part of superheroes in general.
You get too close, you care about the people behind the armors and masks and spandex, but when the hero loses, the person underneath loses too. He's talked to Peter about it, of course. They've had more than one yelling match about safety and selflessness. Happy loses those fights too. Every single time.
Peter will never stop. This is who he is. This is his mission in life. And if Happy wanted to be with him, he had to accept that. Peter knows he'll lose one day. And like he's said, he wouldn't have it any other way. He's going to fight for his city and his people until he physically can't anymore.
It's hard. It's terrible and Happy wishes with all he's got that it wasn't the case. But he wants to have Peter by his side for as long as he possibly can. He would patch him back together at 4 in the morning every day if he got the chance, only to see the grateful smile he gets in return.
But he realizes, as he stares at the spot on the screen where Peter disappeared, that he can't lose today. Not yet.
He gets to his feet, grabs his jacket and doesn't hesitate for a second before he stalks off to the emergency stairs. He might not be a hero with powers. But he's not completely useless. He's been elbows deep in this shit for long enough, watching from the sideline. If Peter is going to risk his life everyday, Happy can at least do more than nothing when everyone's life is at stake.
He's heaving for breath by the time he gets to the garage, but barks something at Friday to make her let him out with his car. He doesn't even remember what he told her by the time he watches the sky through the window, but mutters a thank you as he speeds off.
Peter has turned off his tracker. But that's not a shock for anyone. It sure makes hunting him down a little harder, however. Happy is still sitting in his car, watching a map of the sewer systems, checking his gun, getting ready. He can do this. He can help. He can find him.
But as he steps out of his car, the air is so quiet it sounds like the whole city is paused. He looks around, and people have stopped rampaging, looking just as confused as he feels.
What the hell?
Iron man flies over him, lands on a rooftop next to someone, probably Hawkeye, but Happy can't be too sure. The Hulk comes running past him, and stops suddenly in the middle of the street, whipping his head around frantically. He looks worried.
Oh my God. Peter.
He starts running to where the Hulk is trying to smash the asphalt to pieces. Screaming something that includes spider friend , and just as he approaches and sees the big hole in the street, a very unconscious lizard in a lab coat is thrown up and lands on a crushed car, limbs webbed together. He takes a slow step closer, holding his breath even as his heart is beating out of his chest.
Peter hauls himself up, grunting and wobbling before he collapses. Happy has never ran so fast in his entire life. He's by his side in seconds, cradling his masked face in trembling hands, protected by a green giant heaving for air above them.
"Happy?" The voice is distorted from the mask, and he coughs and groans, curling in on himself, hiding his face in Happy’s wrinkled, sweaty shirt. "Sewers stink. Let's not do this again," he mumbles, and Happy snorts a relieved laugh. It's gonna be okay.
"You're an idiot."
"I'm your idiot though."
"Yeah, you are."
Tony’s heavy suit clinks against the concrete somewhere to their left, and Peter groans again, burying his face even closer to Happys warm body.
"What the hell were you thinking ?!" he shouts, making Happy sigh and count to ten in his head, wrapping his arms around the spandex covered body in his lap. He's not letting Tony yell at Peter right now. He saved the day. He did exactly what they all knew he would do if he got the chance.
"Tony. Leave them alone." Natasha steps up to them, placing her hand on Tony’s armored shoulder, and Peter’s tired laugh vibrates against Happy's stomach.
"What the hell is going on here?" Tony demands, and steps out of his suit. Peter just curls his hand into Happy’s jacket, sighing.
"I love you Happy."
Happy feels his heart racing for a totally different reason, and a grin so wide it splits his face in half spreads across his face. "I love you too, Webs."