Work Text:
Roman and Victor had been out attending business most of their late afternoon. It hasn’t taken as long as they had anticipated, though, as Sionis has reached a compromise and secured a deal with his business partner relatively soon.
Apparently, Andrew – their fifteen-year-old son – hadn’t expected them to be home so early, either.
When the two men had entered the loft, they could already hear this really obnoxious voice and accent. Harley fucking Quinn.
What the fuck was the Joker’s little princess doing here?
Roman glared at his partner, who just shrugged, frowning as well.
“Fix me a Martini. I’ll go take a look at what the fuck is going on here. ‘Kay?” Sionis said and headed towards his son’s room, not waiting for an answer from Zsasz.
Stopping at Andrew’s room’s doorway, Roman took in the atrocious scene that was happening right in front of him.
Harley was painting Andrew’s nails.
Harley motherfucking Quinn was painting his son’s fucking fingernails.
Clearing his throat, Roman drew their attention to him. It should have been on him the moment he’s stopped to stand there, but they were too caught up talking and laughing with each other. It disgusted him. This was his son! He wasn’t supposed to tattle with the woman he hated most (right after his own mother anyway).
When Andrew noticed him, he jumped a little, probably surprised to see him.
How long have these two been friends without Roman even knowing it?
“Dad- Hey, uh-,” Andrew started, chuckling nervously.
“Oh! Hiya, Romy! You’re home already? Or did we lose track of time, Andy Baby?” Harley chirped so fucking sickeningly, that stupid bitch.
“We came home early. That’s not important, though. What’s important is what the fuck you are doing here?” Roman asked, fuming already, and took some steps towards the other two.
“Painting our nails, silly! What else does it look like? And here, Andy’s nails are so pretty now!” The crazy bitch said, shoving his son’s hands into Roman’s face, making him look.
Begrudgingly, Sionis had to admit that the glittery baby-blue nail polish fit his son really well, but he wasn’t going to say it out loud. Not when she was listening, too.
“That’s not what I meant, Ms. Quinn,” Roman sneered, “I want to know what you are doing here, in my apartment, with my son. How long has this been going on, hm?”
“A couple of months,” Andrew finally piped up, “I like Harley! She is fun to hang out with, dad.”
“Awww, Andy Baby, you’re fun to spend time with, too! See, Romy, it’s all fine! What’s the buzz about, anyway?”
Clenching his jaw, Roman forced himself to take a deep breath, trying so hard not to explode then and there. He wasn’t scared of Harley, but her stupid “Clown Prince” – boyfriend – wasn’t someone he necessarily wanted to be on the bad side of.
“It’s nothing. Still, I’d prefer it if you could leave, now, Ms. Quinn. I’d like to spend some private family time with my son and partner, ‘kay?” Roman hoped she’d catch on and leave without any big theatrics; he really wasn’t going to able to hold onto the last shred of his patience for much longer.
Harley made a sad little sound, playing it up big time, but then she nodded, grinning so stupidly. “Fine, I’ll leave! I’ll see you soon then, Andy?”
“Uh, yeah, sure. Bye, Harley. And thanks for the nails,” Andrew said, hugging the crazy bitch, before she got up, patted Roman on the cheek and left, skipping to the door.
Roman was glad that he was going to wash his face anyway. Now he had all the more reason to scrub it thoroughly, though.
Cautiously, Andrew got up from his bed, which he’s sat on with Harley the entire time. “Dad?” he asked quietly.
Before Roman could reply, Victor finally came back with his Martini. He downed it in one go, desperate for the liquor to numb some of the pain he felt.
“So, what exactly was that Harley-Bitch doing here?” Zsasz asked, ever so gracefully.
Roman looked at Andrew expectantly, “Why don’t you tell your father why she was here, hm?”
He knew he was being an asshole; he should give it a rest and just pretend as though none of this happened, but he just couldn’t. He felt betrayed by his own son, and he was just so fucking pissed because of Harley’s mere presence anyway.
“Uh, well, we’re friends. And she came over to paint my nails while you were gone. I didn’t expect you back so early. I’m sorry,” Andy explained, fidgeting with his hands nervously.
At the sight of his son being so nervous – scared, Roman’s heart clenched painfully. He knew what that was like. Worse even. He didn’t want to be like his own father. He should do better. He wanted to do better.
“Well, you know how much we don’t like having her here, Andrew. You shouldn’t have let her come to the apartment in the first place,” Victor responded calmly.
Roman was a bit in awe of his partner and how well he was handling this – so much better than he was.
“I know, I’m really sorry. I wasn’t thinking, I guess. Can I stay friends with her, though? Please?”
Sionis sighed, setting his Martini glass down on his son’s bedside table. “Come here,” he murmured, stretching his arms out in invitation, all anger gone and exchanged for a strange kind of sadness he’s not felt since Andy was still just a boy.
Andrew took some cautious steps towards him and when he was right in front of him, Roman wrapped his arms around his boy, who reciprocated the embrace immediately, resting his head sideways on his father’s chest.
“You too, Victor,” Roman then said and Zsasz immediately joined in, embracing them both tightly.
“So you’re not mad at me anymore?” Andy asked, his voice a little muffled by the hug.
“No, baby. I’m-,” Roman sighed heavily, the next words not coming out of him very easily, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. My differences with Harley shouldn’t extend to you. If you want to be friends with her, so be it. But don’t meet with her here in the future, ‘kay?”
“Yeah, alright, that’s fair. Thanks, dad.” Momentarily, Andrew’s arms tightened around his waist, eliciting a genuine smile from Roman.
“Show your dad and me your nails, will you? I want to see them properly, now.”
They all let go of each other and Andrew lifted his hands, spread his fingers and let his dads inspect them.
“Looks good,” Victor commented, smiling crookedly.
“Agreed. As much as I hate her, she did a good job painting your nails. Not only that, but the colour looks incredible on you, my boy.”
Giggling, Andrew’s cheeks turned a light pink colour. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Roman replied softly, gently stroking his boy’s cheek with his knuckles.
While Roman would never be able to like Harley, he guessed that perhaps he should at least try to tolerate her some more. For Andrew. He wanted to do him right and that meant making some sacrifices, as he’s had to learn from the very beginning of adopting him. It would be okay, though, as long as Andrew never ended up hating his guts the way Roman did with his own father.