Work Text:
Guy wasn’t exactly sure when he realized he was in love with Honey, but he did know that it kinda scared the shit out of him.
It wasn’t that Guy was a stranger to love, not at all: he loved too much, even. He loved all his friends with his whole being, online or in person. Rosa, his coworker, who was just as much of a lesbian disaster as he was a pansexual menace and who kept floundering in front of her crush even though Guy was doing his best as her wingman; Geordi, who Guy had been friends with only since middle school but what felt like his entire life, and Elliott, who the two had met in high school after he and his brother had moved to town and had fit right in alongside Geordi and Guy; Jin, a buddy from college who he still played online with all the time. He loved his family, even if his relationship with his parents was still strained; he loved all his siblings and most of his extended family, especially his cousin, who he saw sometimes when they and their boyfriend David ordered from Max’s. He loved the regulars who always tipped him well, even the ones who always ordered insane pizzas that made him and Rosa question their sanity, and he loved Honey.
Fuck, Honey. What a stick of dynamite stuck in a black hoodie and scowl. The people who knew Honey and Guy as a dynamic duo still didn’t get how either of them managed to make their relationship work. Polar opposites, shadows casted by sunlight, a swirled together image of white and black, one unable to exist without the other. And Guy knew what an odd picture they painted: his smile, wide enough to split seams, while his partner scowled and rolled their eyes at his antics. A cup of black coffee and a sugary explosion of whipped cream and caramel. As Elliott liked to joke, the “real life manifestation of the ‘grumpy x sunshine’ fanfiction trope”.
And Honey will never tell you this, but Guy will: the black coffee is his. And Honey only adds whipped cream to their coffee in the winter.
They were someone who had randomly ended up in Guy’s life without meaning to: a chance encounter, junior year housing, a three bedroom one bathroom on-campus apartment with thin walls and really bad aircon. Guy had originally been assigned two other roommates, a business major named Thomas who Guy had never even seen when he messaged Guy and Jack, their third roommate who was super involved with the local slam poetry community, that Thomas was moving out due to “an unruly environment which would hinder Thomas and his academic abilities” (which Guy had guessed was code for Thomas being tired of Guy bringing hookups over and spending the entire night fucking them). Two days later, an email from their RA stating the third room spot had been filled. A week had passed and then, when Guy was dancing in the kitchen making some French toast in cheeseburger printed boxers and a stained band shirt, locs covered by his favorite bonnet, a knock echoed on the door. Guy had paused the music, turned the stove off, and opened the door to reveal—
Them. Already scowling and carrying a box of random shit. The rest is history.
Guy had spent the next year and half pining behind flirty comments and slaps on his arms from this dedicated and passionate stranger, though their determination was never something people knew them for. A shame, in Guy’s opinion, because once Honey put their mind to something, they were almost unstoppable. Guy knew that they were so much more than the labels everyone seemed to shove down their throat (though Guy had something better in mind to shove down their throat, ehh—), and that they downplayed their successes at any chance they could get, but Guy was still so immensely proud of them.
He loved them. He was in love with them.
And Guy had been having what was essentially the Cupid-centric version of a mental breakdown over those thoughts for what felt like three months.
Guy leaned back in the chair and sighed, rubbing between his eyes. He had been working on these edits for what felt like the entire day, and the pain behind his eyes was beginning to go from the dull ache of staring at a screen without protection to a creeping pain that would mean Guy had to cut this work short with some pain meds and a nap. But he was so close to finishing that he just decided to take a quick break.
It was too late for coffee, so as Guy got up to stretch his legs out, he ended up heading into the kitchen and filling up the kettle. One of the items Honey had brought with them when they had first moved in with Guy that the pair still used to this day. Guy hummed softly as the kettle, now on the hotplate, was illuminated with a blue light as it began boiling. Rifling through their extensive tea collection, Guy pulled out a box of white tea and a mug with the name “Carl” written on it several times over. It was a thrift find that he and Honey had both nearly lost their cool over in the quiet atmosphere of the shop they found it at, and it had become their shared mug. He also grabbed a black mug with a design of a skull smoking a cigarette, which had been Honey’s souvenir from the van Gogh exhibit the two went to a few months ago. Guy set the mugs down gently on the counter, and once the kettle’s water had boiled, he poured some into both mugs. He knew Honey was going to want tea soon, so he figured making them their usual cup would be a nice thing to do after they’ve spent the hours since they got back working on their job’s most recent project.
He blew the steam from his cup and took a small sip, sighing in content at the flavor and at the warmth that spread from his throat to his chest and continued to his limbs. He carefully brought the mug back to the dining table and sat back down in front of his laptop, feeling refreshed enough to get back to working, the dull pain behind his eyes having mostly disappeared by then.
It hadn’t been much time before Guy heard the door to Honey’s room open and the sound of their steps against the hardwood floors. Guy looked up from his laptop just as Honey turned the corner, their favorite hoodie on and a pair of headphones hanging around their neck. They didn’t look necessarily happy, but they didn’t look as stressed as they’ve been known to get from working on the project, so that was a plus in Guy’s books.
“Honey!” Guy exclaimed, a smile immediately appearing on his face at the sight of his partner. “It feels like I’ve barely seen you all day! I missed you.”
Honey rolled their eyes, which Guy smiled even more at. “You saw me plenty this morning, Guy.”
Guy let his smile turn devious as his eyes roamed their body, stopping at their thighs and then moving back to meet their gaze. “Yes I did~ you wanna go for another round? Get some of that tension from work out of your gorgeous body?”
Honey groaned at Guy’s suggestive tone, but he saw the way they shuffled at the offer, and he knew that they were thinking about it too. Hard not to, really, considering how… active their time spent together had become. Guy’s thoughts started taking detours to earlier that day, a lazy morning that nearly had Honey late for work (not that Guy wasn’t excited for the punishment that could follow from making his Honey late to work), but he stopped that train of thought when he saw how tired Honey’s eyes looked.
“On second thought, you look a bit like you’re about to pass out right now, so maybe we save the depravity for after you’re done,” Guy mused, and the look on Honey’s face was both grateful and also offended.
“I’m fine,” Honey grumbled, but the yawn that immediately followed that statement seemed to prove otherwise. The look Guy had on his face must have been telling, because Honey glared at him after yawning and said, “Shut up.”
Guy only laughed and stuck his tongue out in lieu of a response. Honey rolled their eyes and headed into the kitchen.
He had only looked at his laptop and began typing for a minute or two before Honey stepped out of the kitchen and stared at Guy with some kind of expression on their face that Guy couldn’t decipher. Disbelief, maybe? Confusion? Begging that what they were seeing was, in fact, a hallucination and not reality?
“You made yourself two cups of tea by accident.” Honey said confusedly, though it wasn’t a question. Guy looked at them with a smile.
“No, that’s yours. I was in the mood for some and I know you like to have tea after work, so I made you a cup. I hope it isn’t too strong, I know you like to leave your bag in for longer than the instructions tell you to because it gives it more flavor, but I don’t think you want bitter tea right now.” Guy tapped his mug next to his laptop and shrugged.
Honey continued to stare at him. This wasn’t new, Guy was used to Honey staring at him for numerous reasons (in annoyance, in anger, in ecstasy, in fondness when they think Guy can’t see the way their eyes soften and smile turn ever so sappy), but their staring right now felt invasive—not invasive, that was too creepy, horror writer brain shut up—all-seeing, like Honey was trying to see Guy’s soul through his eyes. Like they were seeing him for the first time.
Was it weird to say Guy was kind of into them watching him like that? He’d have to bring that up with them some other time.
With a quick inhale, Honey turned around and grabbed their tea from the counter and immediately beelined to their room, a quick “Thanks, Guy” trailing behind them. Guy sat in stunned silence as his partner disappeared back into their room, their door shutting with a noise that almost made Guy jump in his seat.
Guy pondered for a moment, confused as to why that interaction happened, eventually just shrugging and getting back to working on the script.
It hadn’t been long before Guy was finishing his tea and the script he had been working on, and as he stretched his arms out to release some of the tension in his back, he sighed loudly. The apartment was silent, but the open windows letting in cooler winds also let in the sounds of the evening, cicadas constant and droning.
As Guy began the process of saving his progress and emailing it to his superiors, he heard a door deeper in the apartment open.
“Hey, Guy?” The voice of his partner called out to him from the door.
Focused still on typing up the email, Guy called back, “Yeah, Honey?”
They were silent for a while, which Guy had assumed meant they were going to ask him to do something that they were embarrassed about, but as Guy shifted his focus from his laptop to the hallway his partner’s room was in, in a voice that conveyed more emotion than he had ever heard despite however nonchalant it sounded, Honey said, “I love you.”
In his shock, Guy slapped his laptop close on reflex. His ears were burning, and his cheeks felt the same way. His head whirled to the hallway, eyes wide and heart suddenly pounding in his chest.
“I-I—wha—uh—uhm—I, eheh, uhm!” Guy couldn't control the noises coming out of his mouth, a spew stream of consciousness that he had never made before (1-0, Honey wins for making Guy make a new noise). He felt like he had been hit with an insanity spell with how erratic his heart and mind was becoming.
Huh? Did he hear them correctly? Love? They loved him? Honey loved him?
The racing of his heart now had a competitor: his heart swelling in adoration and affection for his stoney-faced partner. He knew immediately that this was a really difficult thing for them to do: Guy knew his Honey wasn’t the strongest with words, preferring to show their love(!) for him through actions. Little things like loading Guy’s laundry into the dryer after he had forgotten his alarm had gone off, or putting his leftovers in the microwave after he came back from a long shift, or making him a cup of tea to bring to him while he worked—
Oh. Oh.
This fucker—
Guy let out a practically hysterical laugh as he thought, wildly, suddenly, that he had done one of Honey’s favorite acts of service, and he had done it without so much as a second thought. It was natural. It was easy.
It was love.
Guy immediately felt energy coursing through his body and the urge to move caused him to scramble his way out of his chair and down the hallway towards Honey’s room. Luckily he wasn’t wearing socks, so unlike the last time he ran through the apartment, he wasn’t sliding across the floor and slamming into the wall. His feet made quick work across the hardwood floors, and by the time he barged into Honey’s door frame, he was panting at the exertion.
He looked up from where he had hunched over to catch his breath and saw Honey staring at him, unmoving, mug of tea half-full and headphones placed on the table. They seemed incredibly nervous, mouth screwed up in anticipation and cheeks definitely looking heated.
There was silence between the two of them, Guy’s eyes locked onto theirs and vice versa. Guy was sure they could hear his heart pounding out of his chest.
Suddenly, letting out a loud, boisterous laugh, relief and joy rushing through every inch of his body, Guy practically barreled his way onto his knees, grabbing their chair and dragging it out so he could swing Honey to face him before he wrapped his arms around them, squeezing them tightly to his chest and finally giving into temptation. Peppering little kisses all over Honey’s shocked face, Guy couldn’t stop from kissing whenever he could reach: their cheeks, their forehead, the tip of their nose, the corners of their lips. He was pretty sure he even kissed their eyelids and their chin in the chaos of his loving assault. Guy couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face, and relished in the little giggles coming from his beloved partner. Honey tilted their head this way and that, giving Guy access to anywhere he desired to place a kiss. Once he was satisfied with the kiss coverage, he buried his head into Honey’s shoulder, let out a long, shuddering breath and whispered, “If you think I can pretend to be normal after you telling me ‘I love you’ for the first time, I’m sorry, but have you met me? How can I be normal after that?”
Honey shook their head, which was kind of difficult to do since Guy’s head was still buried in the crook of their neck, and nuzzled their face into Guy’s locs, smelling the oils Honey had bought for him last month and chuckling. “I didn’t know how else to say it. It’s all I’ve been thinking about for—months now, at this rate.”
Guy’s heart swelled even larger than it felt, like it was about to explode out of his body, and he knew Honey could feel the grin that spread across his face against their neck. His arms were wrapped around Honey’s waist, their legs on either side of Guy’s hips, and he tightened his grip on them ever so gently. He never wanted to let them go.
Suddenly, he moved his head back so he was looking into Honey’s eyes and said, with a finality Honey had never seen from him before, “I love you, too, Honey.”
And god was lovestruck and flustered a good look on them. Their eyes went wide and then soft, hazy with affection, and Guy could feel the heat radiating off of their cheeks. Their hands went from hanging off of Guy’s shoulders to his face, cradling it like they were worried he would disappear if they didn’t. Honey was looking at him like they had never seen him before.
This wasn’t love at first sight, what they had between them. That didn’t exist. There was attraction at first sight, but love isn’t always something so easily forged.
But, as Guy and Honey exchanged many, many more “I love you”s between each other as the night dragged on, the last of which was muttered from Honey as they finally slipped into sleep, their arms wrapped around Guy's waist and their nose pressed against the back of his neck, perhaps love was what had been there the whole time.