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1
"Curio! How wonderful to see you, my man. Splendid!"
The sun had just set, and Sugar's was rapidly coming to life. Clientèle from all around Cortex City trickled through the neon-lit doors, eager to get a taste of the speakeasy's illegal and illicit substances. Business had been booming ever since that goddamned Mark Bition had outlawed everything.
"Ah, Dan!"
There in the crowd, enthusiastically waving his hand, was a figure in a trenchcoat all too familiar to Daniel Fucks. Hunch Curio was a regular by now. Dan had no complaints.
As he approached the bar, swerving past the tables, Dan smirked and said: "The usual?
Hunch's face split open in a wide grin. He sat down on a bar stool, took off his hat and whipped out a pipe from his coat. "What else is there to have, my friend?"
With as much flourish as he could muster, Dan turned around and scoured the cabinets full of bottles. Hunch's usual wasn't actually a specific drink—he just wanted something new; something that triggered his curiosity. It allowed Dan a wonderful chance to check his hair in the glass and subtly smooth out that one spot on his blouse as he went to pick something out. After that, his eye fell on a beautifully blown bottle, tiny, enough for maybe two gulps. No label. Still; he knew it all too well. It was a good one. Elias Hodge, age 21, first time doing a shot. He smiled, took it out and turned back to Hunch.
"Voilá", he grinned, whisking a glass from a shelf. He handily poured the neon-orange drink into the small octagonal shot glass and handed it to Hunch, who raised his eyebrows as he took it.
He swirled it around gently, careful not to spill. "Ah, this is gonna be good, I can tell. What is it?"
"I'm going to keep you guessing, Curio. Give it a taste, why don'tcha."
"Alright then. Keeping me curious, aren't you?" he said, winking at Dan. Then, he threw it back in one gulp. He put the glass back down on the bar with a thud. And while he kept his eyes closed for just a few seconds, savouring the taste, Dan found himself staring at the man. Dashingly handsome and surrounded by an ever present air of mystery—Hunch Curio, private investigator extraordinaire. If only he was a little better at investigating his damn bartender.
A little smile from Hunch made him realise he'd been staring. "And?" he said, immediately saving face. He resumed his former position, realising quite tardily that he'd been leaning forward with his elbows on the bar.
A little smile lingered in Hunch's eyes as he spoke his mind. "A good one. Sweet, packs a good punch." He seemed lost in thought for a second. "That one wasn't too pleasant for the Big Guy, was it now? At least, in hindsight."
Dan Fucks laughed. Yes, he hadn't forgotten that memory. He wouldn't for quite a while. The Big Guy didn't take alcohol well, he wasn't a partier. Elias' memories of puke in his toilet had greatly overshadowed the giddy feeling of doing shots for the first time—this bottle Dan had acquired was a rare one.
"Glad to hear 'twas to your liking, mister Curio. Anything else?"
Hunch reached into his trenchcoat again, looking for his wallet, but Dan slapped his hand away over the bar. "Oh no", he said. "That's one on the house, you bastard."
"You sure, Danny? There's cases plenty—money plenty…"
Profit, profit. Profit was nothing compared to that crooked detective smile.
Dan Fucks leaned forwards again, unable to stop himself. "No worries, my man. You keep your dough. And do me a favour—have a fabulous evening, too."
Hunch Curio tipped his hat, stuck his pipe back in his mouth, and swiftly made his way to the door.
That was their ritual. The PI came in every night and had just one drink. Every time was a surprise—that's how he liked it. He was… curious, after all.
Sometimes he lingered, sometimes he didn't. Dan always wanted him to. It was silly; there were plenty interesting people lounging around Sugar's. And yet… no one captivated him more than the man in the green trench coat.
No matter how long Hunch lingered, Dan was always sad to see him go.
2
The next morning was a beautiful one. Dan had slept in his study at the back of the speakeasy. Woken up by sunlight peeking through the blinds, he turned around and faceplanted in his pillow, groaning. Usually he slept through most of the day, having business all night long, but not today. Grudgingly, he got up and threw on pantaloons and a flannel. 'Sweats' were an unknown concept to the man—Dan Fucks only owned frilly shirts and less frilly shirts. The latter were for mornings.
He hadn't been up for an hour yet when he heard a loud knocking on the door. Swearing under his breath, reading glasses still on, he shuffled towards the door. It wasn't the big, fancy pillared entrance of Sugar's with its neon lights, but the back door. Dan cracked it open just a little bit, peering outside.
"Dan! Just the man I'd be hoping to catch!"
Daniel Fucks was greeted with the sight of his favourite PI, chipper and cheery—clearly more of a morning person than he was. It was then that he noticed the glimmer in Hunch's eyes, the tapping of his foot in excitement. That could probably mean only one thing.
"Hunch, my man. Can it be true… have you received an exceptional case?" Subconsciously he opened the door to let him in. Dan felt his heartbeat speed up—and oh, it wasn't from the prospect of a case.
Hunch strode in, all hand movements and excited grins. "Yes.. yes! Exceptional, glorious even… think about what this could mean…"
Dan quickly checked his hair in the standing mirror. He pulled out two chairs on the small dining table, but Hunch was clearly too excited to take a seat. He paced the room like a wind-up toy, walking jauntily. "No more boring old regular cases for me, Danny! This is a big one!"
Dan smiled to himself. He enjoyed seeing the detective like this—in his element. "Coffee?" he asked. Hunch, too busy muttering to hear, took no notice. Dan made two hot cups of coffee. He almost made his way back with them when he stopped, pulled out a bottle of liquor, and poured a sizable shot of it into one of the mugs.
When he set them on the table, Hunch took a seat at last. "Oh", he said, noticing his coffee. "Thanks." He took a sip, and Dan guessed he tasted the hit of the liquor, because his eyes lit up. "My man, you know me too well," Hunch smiled.
"Back to business", the speakeasy owner proposed. "This case. I wonder, why've you come to me?"
Hunch started to explain in between gulps of coffee. "This case, you see… it surrounds matters of, let's say, …pleasure. And if I'm not mistaken, that just so happens to be your area of expertise."
Dan awkwardly pointed a thumb. "I'm your man!" He was quite worried where this was going, to say the least. Matters of pleasure? "Expand and explain, Curio."
"Well, I figured it was about time. Remember the 'What's His Name' case? The co-worker?" Dan nodded. Hunch occasionally recounted heroic tales of all his interesting activities while having his drink at Sugar's. "Case closed, right?" Hunch beamed. Dan couldn't help but let slip a little smile. "Well, we've got bigger fish to fry now." We. We.
"And whatever fish might that be?" Dan had subconsciously moved closer again. Damn it. He corrected himself, smoothing out the gesture by reaching for his mug.
"Well, you see, that coworker—", Hunch started. "He's tickled the Big Guy's fancy, so to say. All I know is that our pal Elias is… quite curious about what's going on with that."
"Woah, slow down there buster—are you saying-"
Hunch grinned. "Yes, Dan. Serotonin."
Dan Fucks raised his mug. "Now, if that ain't something to toast to!" He clinked his mug to Hunch's, after both of them downed their remaining coffee.
"So… you'll help me with this case?"
"What, the case of the Big Guy's gay awakening?" Dan chuckled to himself at seeing Hunch cracking up. "Well, forgive me for my play on words, but—it'd be my pleasure."
3
It was a day or two before Hunch showed up at Sugar's again. Dan knew how he was—once absorbed in a case, nothing would stop him. And who was he to intervene? Deep down, Dan was afraid of leaving his comfort zone. The speakeasy was his home, his life. Sometimes he wished for more; but that'd involve breaking the delicate bubble that was the life he'd built for himself. His untouchable persona, embodiment of pleasure—pining after Hunch Curio like a damn lovesick puppy. Laughable, really.
Thankfully Hunch, unlike Dan, did have guts. When he showed up again, Dan had trouble concealing his smiles. He was behind the bar again, polishing glasses. When Hunch reached him, he threw down a giant stack of papers on the desk.
"Woah there, Curio. Whatever happened to hello?"
The PI laughed, genuine and melodious. "Good evening, Danny. Great to see you." When Hunch tore his eyes from the files to look in Dan's eyes, his face lit up.
"Oh, that reminds me!", he said, leaning forward over the bar towards Dan. "Are you wearing contact lenses?"
Extremely confused, Dan froze. Hunch's face was no more than 20 cm away from his, if not less. "Uhm—yes, Why'd you ask?" he muttered.
"Your glasses, a few days ago! I didn't know you needed them—until then. It's no big deal, I was just—"
"Curious", Dan completed. He smiled. Hunch smiled. It was only then that the detective realised how close their faces had gotten. He blinked a couple too many times as his cheeks started to flush, and Dan abruptly retreated backwards. "Anyways!" He interjected, a little louder than he'd liked, "Why don't we look over that impressive stack of files over a nice drink?"
Hunch nodded absentmindedly, clearly not focused on the case (for once). Dan hurriedly turned around to the drink cabinets, grateful for a chance at regaining his composure. Oh god. He was a mess. His thoughts were still lost in the PI's eyes while his hands sought out a big bottle labelled 'cold showers'. Seemed fitting.
When he tried to lift it out, he almost knocked over a flask, very small and shiny. He hadn't seen it before—was it new? Libby must've stocked it. He turned it to read the label and was surprised by the date: only yesterday. A new memory, then? Fascinated, he uncorked it and poured both Hunch and himself a glass. The liquid had the look and smell of a delightful rosé wine.
Hunch took his glass and swirled it around. "...curious, one might say. What've you got here?"
Dan shrugged, peering into his drink. "Something recent. I ain't got a clue."
Tentative, they both took a sip. Dan was immediately overwhelmed by a sudden vision of Elias Hodge, the Big Guy himself, walking next to an exceptionally handsome man. As they proceeded down a corridor, their hands accidentally brushed—and there it was: a spark. Pure electricity, sizzling through him. Dan felt a powerful feeling of warmth blossoming in his chest, which is exactly what Elias must've been feeling.
"Woah", was all he was able to utter. They hadn't had serotonin like that in years.
Hunch, on the other hand, had newfound determination in his eyes. "Aha!" he cried out, starting to rifle through the stack of files on the bar. Dan watched, still hazy from the emotional high.
After five seconds or so Hunch pulled out a paperback, triumphant. "I'm telling ya, Danny, look at this!" He held up the book, which was clearly from the library of the Hippo Campus (seeing the variety of dog eared pages and scribbles). "This was the exact memory we just saw with our very own eyes!"
Dan took the book out of his hands. Indeed it was. The scribbles in the margins of the memory were already getting out of hand. Half of them confidently declared it had all meant nothing, the other half was loudly exclaiming that, in fact, this man liked us back! Elias could have a chance!
Dan looked back at Hunch, his questions not needing to be spoken aloud.
"I think we've solved our case, Danny. I have here, plain and simple," Hunch slapped the pile of papers, "a whole lotta evidence giving us a pretty good insight into Elias' crisis. The Big Guy is confused about a lotta things—but we can clear one thing up for him. The man is not straight."
Dan laughed and stood up to get a drink. He poured both himself and Hunch another round and raised his glass. Hunch gave Dan his handsomest detective smile. "Case closed."
4
For a while everything is wonderful. The sun shines bright every morning, waking Dan up just in time to get ready before Hunch comes over. It's become a second ritual of theirs; a cup of coffee together in the morning; before Hunch goes to work and Dan dives back into bed. Dan thinks it's delightful.
For all his investigating, the man seems quite oblivious to Dan's pining. He doesn't pick up on the way his breath quickens every time they come close to touching—or the way his heart flutters when Hunch laughs. Dan is slowly going mad with desire. And instead of taking initiative and actually doing something about the situation, he wallows in his own longing and stays tightly shut inside his comfort zone, pining from afar. Where's his charisma when he needs it?
Despite all this, Dan Fucks is perfectly content. He loves drinking coffee with Hunch in the morning and booze in the evening. He loves their talks. He loves their jokes and goofs. He loves…
Nevermind.
—
Yet, after a week or so, everything changes. One day Dan doesn't wake up to the gentle rays of the sun, but the loud clatter of rain on Sugar's roof. When he opens the blinds he is instead greeted by misty clouds hanging low over the city and raindrops pelting down onto his face. Gloomy weather, to say the least. That couldn't be good.
Dan threw on clothes, grabbed his glasses and slowly made his way through the back building of Sugar's. He entered the cramped little kitchen, got himself a coffee, and sat down to wait for Hunch.
After half an hour or so, Dan realised the PI was late. He got up and walked to the window. There was a strange feeling in his gut—worry?
Detective Hunch Curio was very good at getting into scrapes; and less good at getting himself out of them. Often enough the man came into Sugar's with cuts and bruises everywhere—and miraculously enough, the next day there was no trace of 'em; only to repeat this pattern a few days after.
"Everything for the case, Danny, everything for the case." That's what he said when Dan, trying to conceal his worry, sometimes asked who he'd angered this time.
Dan feared Hunch had gotten caught in the rain, or in a fight. But as more and more minutes ticked by, his hopes dwindled. No one was stupid enough to make their way through this crap weather without some serious reason. It was a no-brainer, right? Hunch would've stayed in.
Gloomy, Dan walked away from the window. Rain trickled soundlessly down the glass. But just as he flopped on his couch again, about to bury himself in blankets and wallow in self-pity, there was a knock on the door.
Dan shot upwards, hopeful. He almost ran to the back door. He held his breath while opening, almost unwilling to believe—
And yet, there he was. Hunch Curio, in all his private investigator glory. Dressed in his trusty trench coat (which was now absolutely soaked) and a smile, he stood in the doorway. His hat was missing—Dan suspected it might've been blown away in the wind—and he held an umbrella that had long ago lost any usefulness, for it was turned inside out by the wind.
"Curio, my man!" Dan threw open the door. "Come in, come in! Don't stay out in that absolutely dreadful weather!"
Hunch breathed a sigh of relief as he walked in, shuddering. He shrugged off his soaked coat and as Dan took it from him, sighed: "It's raining cats and dogs out there, Danny."
"I noticed, my friend! Why'd you even go out?" Dan didn't even allow himself a sliver of hope—but his heart warmed at the thought of this man suffering through wind and rain, just to see him.
"...I simply felt like a stroll." Hunch conveniently turned around to fix his collar, but Dan was not oblivious to the jolt in the PI's shoulders. More pressingly, however—this was, quite embarrassingly, the first time Dan saw him without his usual trench coat. Hunch in casual clothing had never even occurred to him; but now that he stood here, in a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and pinstriped pantaloons, Dan wished he'd gotten the chance before. Without his trusty trenchcoat and hat, he appeared strangely… vulnerable. And not to mention, he looked extremely good.
With his cheeks flushing, Dan led Hunch back to the living room. "Make yourself at home, pal", he said with a flourish of his arm. "I'll grab you something to drink. You look like you need it." Hunch gave a little smile and Dan smoothly retreated to the kitchen. Breathe in, breathe out, he told himself. This was just their regular morning coffee, nothing else.
Dan had almost taken out two mugs before he changed his mind. Hunch had definitely looked like he'd needed something stronger. A specific beverage came to mind, and he started furiously rifling through the drink cabinets. His storage system was atrocious, but after a bit he emerged victorious. The bottle was a deep red and strangely warm to the touch. Dan remembered this one well—a pleasurable memory, but in the most wholesome way.
It had been at a happy time in Elias' youth, where he still got along with his parents. They'd taken him to an amusement park, and young Elias Hodge had wanted to try the new water attraction. Afterwards, completely soaked (naturally), his parents paid for him to stand in this capsule thing. It blew hot air on you for about thirty seconds, resembling a person-sized, four-sided blow dryer. The sensation had been wonderful and the memory had kept its warmth, even after the Big Guy's relationship with his parents soured.
Dan grabbed a glass, took the bottle and made his way back.
Hunch had taken off his shoes and kicked back, a blanket draped over his shoulders. He looked cold, and Dan wanted nothing more than to warm up the detective's hands with his own. Alas, unless Dan worked up the guts for a spontaneous confession of love, the memory would have to do.
"I dug up something special for you, Curio." He took a seat on the chair opposite to the couch Hunch had sat down on and filled the glass to the brim.
"Well, colour me curious", he said with a smile, taking it from Dan's hands. Surprised at the warmth of it, he let out a soft 'oh'. He cupped the glass in his hands like a mug and took a sip. Dan watched his eyes light up.
Strangely, there was nothing Dan derived more joy from than these sorts of things. He might be the pleasure centre of the brain, but doling out the good stuff sometimes felt even better than acquiring it himself.
"A nice one, isn't it?" he mused.
Hunch nodded, enthusiastically. He folded his legs up beneath him, making himself comfortable. "Hmm, wonderful. You're a devil, Danny."
He couldn't help but smile. For a few seconds it was just them, in comfortable silence, until Hunch blurted out: "How are you doing?"
Dan, taken a little aback, pondered for just a moment before answering. Not many people inquired about his life. "Quite alright, I suppose. But look outside—that's pretty reflective. Business won't be good with all that storm. And besides that; there ain't been any serotonin for days!"
Hunch's eyebrows knit together. "That's just what I was wanting to talk to you about. This rain… it ain't doing any good for the Big Guy, eh?" He took a sip of his drink, allowing Dan to interject:
"Do you have any clue what's happened? What's causing all this… crap?"
Curio's eyes twinkled. "I have a hunch." He shifted his position again. "Remember our handsome friend? Well, he was bringing in loads of serotonin. Even more since we solved that case—our pal Elias was greatly infatuated. In love, even. But last night, you see," Hunch fished out a newspaper—the Daily Observer—soaked from the rain. The headline, printed in giant, bold letters, read:
BREAKING NEWS: we are USELESS and DUMB and will DIE ALONE
The violent headline was followed up by an article, which Hunch kindly outlined for him. Apparently, since the Big Guy had realised his infatuation (mainly thanks to curiosity himself), serotonin production had been off the charts; until last night. A small section of the article described how Elias Hodge had finally worked up the courage to ask out this man—the remaining bulk of the piece was a violent sequence expressing how Elias was an ugly, no good piece of shit who would never know love.
"I take it he was rejected", Dan murmured. "That'd explain the halt in serotonin and dopamine shipments. And all that goddamned rain."
Hunch downed some more of his drink. Dan could see the colour returning to his cheeks. "How's business?" he asked, eager to keep the conversation going.
"Dire. The Big Guy isn't curious about anything but his own misery at the moment." Dan sighed. There was a rough patch ahead here for Cortex City; and for the speakeasy, too. Ain't no one eager to drink a shot of pure, unfiltered Self-Hate. And if this kept going, after a while that'd be all Sugar's would have to offer.
Dan Fucks considered them; the pleasure centre of the brain and it's curiosity, moodily sitting in a room together; no use for either. Dan thought it was almost laughable. How much lower could Elias Hodge sink?
Dan wouldn't let it go that far.
"Come to Sugar's tomorrow night, Curio. I'll throw a party. We'll show the big man what it means to live."
5
That night, Dan pulled out all the stops. Crates of remaining serotonin stock, bottles of dopamine ready to be popped; oh, it'd be a party for sure. Revel while they still can—that was Dan's goal. And maybe, just maybe, building a party in the Big Guy's brainbox would loosen him up, just a little bit.
On the other hand, Daniel Fucks loves a good party and would take any excuse to throw one—and what could be better to kick off this monumental start of a time of great sadness? Carpe diem, seize the day—have fun. That, after all, is what true pleasure is about.
A nice side effect of this game of party charades was getting to see Hunch again. Dan has hope; maybe he'll stick around for another drink tonight. Just one more drink.
—
Dan donned his nicest, frilliest shirt and was once again behind the bar of the speakeasy. People were pouring in, all dressed in most extravagantly indecent fashions—but Dan was keeping his eyes peeled for a certain green trench coat.
People around him drunk and danced. They swirled and revelled in Sugar's neon lights, and any other night Dan would have joined in. But not tonight. There was something missing; almost as if Dan wouldn't be happy until a certain someone's grey eyes were here to light up the room.
It was agony. If it weren't for Hans Schadenfreude he'd be waiting at the door himself, searching the crowd for his favourite detective. It felt like ages until there, finally, relief. Hunch Curio, private investigator, had shown up to Sugar's. He approached the bar with as much swagger as usual, walking right up to Dan.
"Hey there, handsome", Dan said. He didn't know where this newfound boldness had come from. Perhaps he'd had one too many while pining over Hunch.
Hunch Curio seemed to glow in the dim lighting of the speakeasy. It made his attractive jawline even more pronounced and his features more defined. Dan leaned on the bar again and chuckled when he noticed Hunch was wearing a tie under his trenchcoat. Barely even visible, but you could see it when you paid attention. And oh, Dan was paying attention all right.
"Woah, slow down, tiger."
Hunch wore a playful smile. Dan noticed he'd walked up with an air of determination. He was slightly anxious. That anxiety, however, was greatly overshadowed by his giddy feeling at seeing Hunch.
"What can I pour you today, my man. We've got everything—on the house!"
Hunch smiled, and said: "Could I get something to go?"
Taken aback a little, Dan was silent for a moment. "I think so… yes. We might have some leftover cups lying around… what would tickle your fancy?"
"Nothing special. The usual."
Confused and a little worried, Dan turned towards the bottle cabinets. To go? That was a first. And a worrying one, at that. What happened to their precious little ritual?
Dan's head was spinning as he scanned the rows and rows of bottles. Unable to focus, he ended up grabbing a random one from the shelves. Mom's homebrewed beer, it read. Sounded awful; but hey, it was something new.
He turned around to mutter a quick 'give me a minute' to Hunch and go look for something akin to a disposable cup. After a minute or so, he returned and filled it to the brim with the yellow-ish liquid. Were those pieces of barley floating around in it? Shaking his head in disgust, Dan handed the cup to Hunch.
"Voilà", he murmured. The PI took it, a twinkle in his eyes.
"Thanks a million, Danny. I'll see you soon." Then, Hunch Curio winked at him and left.
Dan was left hanging, mildly flabbergasted. A wink? What the hell did that mean? The entire interaction as a whole had left him quite confused. It was only after the few seconds he needed to compose himself that he noticed Hunch had left something on the bar. His wallet, he realised, as he took and opened it. Looking through the crowd was useless, of course, but Dan did it anyway. Naturally, Hunch had long since disappeared into the night.
Confused and left with what could only be seen as a clue, Dan started looking through the wallet. Strangely, everything seemed to have been removed, except a heavy copper key in the change compartment. Dan rifled through the thing one more time, and finally he discovered a little note; it'd been hidden away in a back pocket. He unfolded the paper. Still smoothing out the creases, he raised his eyebrows.
I've noticed all your clues, Danny. I think it's time we followed up on 'em. I'm curious to see where this will lead. Aren't you?
Underneath the PI had clumsily drawn a little looking glass, and underneath it a smiley face with a little heart next to it. At the back of the paper, the address of his office.
Dan weighed the key in his hand. He felt blood rush to his cheeks, adrenaline coursing through his body. 'Clues'? Oh god, Hunch hadn't been that oblivious at all. The man was just a lot better at hiding his attraction. Dan felt his heart flutter.
This was what he'd hoped for all along, wasn't it? Being liked back by this strikingly handsome, unapproachable detective? If so, why did he feel so scared?
Dan remembered the awful article from yesterday—how Elias had gotten brutally rejected. If there was one thing Dan Fucks feared most of all, it was rejection. He stayed in his comfort zone, doling out pleasure to those who sought it out. And yet… he longed for something more. He longed to be close to Hunch. It was exhilarating being near him. His heart sped up, his cheeks warmed. Hunch Curio was exceptionally good at one thing: following up on something he started. Ever so frustratingly, however, now it was up to Dan.
He glanced at the paper, the scrabbly detective handwriting. He peered out the window at the dreadful weather; but instead of seeing only the Big Guy's misery, he smiled at the memory of a soaked Hunch in his living room. He made his decision (as if it even really was one) and stepped out from behind the bar. Signalling to Libby that she had to handle the crowd on her own from now on, he made his way towards the door. Passing his bouncer, Hans Schadenfreude, he tipped an imaginary hat and said: "I'm going out, my friend. You keep the party going."
Hans cracked his knuckles and tapped his foot joyfully. "Kein Problem, mister Fucks! My pleasure", he said.
Dan shook his head, smiling, opened his umbrella and walked into the night.
Anxiety and a certain kind of giddiness coursed through his veins. He was terrified, in the best way possible. Making his way through alleyways and backstreets, he noticed how beautiful the city was at night. Little lights danced all over the district, reflected back to the sky in the puddles caused by the ever-pouring rain. He twirled his umbrella in his hand, smiling at the silliness of it all. He truly should get out more.
When Dan arrived at the detective's office door, he felt his heart lift off. It felt unreal. And yet, the key in his hand was very much there. He thought of hesitating—and stopped in his tracks. Carpe diem, Dan thought to himself as he stuck the key in the door and turned. Seize the day.
+1
Dan Fucks wasn't one to stumble. Smooth, elegant—a man made up of sex appeal and charisma. But the moment he stepped into Hunch's office, he immediately tripped and fell on his face—almost. Whether he'd tripped over a file on the floor or his own feet didn't matter; he was too preoccupied with the situation he now found himself in: right in Hunch's arms.
"Woah there, Danny. You okay?"
Dan felt the corner of his mouth twitch. "Never been better." And then he leaned in for a kiss.
—
The next morning Dan woke up to sunlight again, this time peeking through the copious amount of blinds in Hunch's office. The whole place smelled vaguely of coffee grounds and pipe fumes. Dan didn't mind. His vision was still hazy—he'd taken out his lenses yesterday before they'd gone to bed. They'd probably gotten lost in the mess that was this room. Hunch had invited him over for the night, and they'd slept on the old grey couch together under a spare blanket. Nothing had happened—and it had been perfect.
Dan yawned, stretching out like a lazy cat in the sun. Out of instinct he reached for a bedside table where his glasses were usually located, but instead his hand met with Hunch's side. He'd walked up without Dan noticing, a mug and a little box clutched in his hands.
"Good morning, fella", he said, his face beaming with affection.
Dan smiled at him, carefully taking over the little box that Hunch handed him. "It took some digging," said Hunch, "But I found you a pair of glasses. They're Anna's."
Dan chuckled. "You dimwit. I can just put in my lenses again. If I find them, that is." Either way, he was incredibly charmed by the gesture.
Hunch shifted his weight and the corner of his mouth twitched. "I like glasses on you", he murmured.
"What was that? I couldn't hear", Dan mocked. His insides were on fire.
Hunch, conveniently ignoring the question, handed Dan the mug. "I made you a coffee." And he handed the mug to Dan, who cradled it in his cold hands. He looked up at the PI's face, smiling wider than he ever had.
"Hey, Curio?" He said, eyes twinkling. "I love you."