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When they finish breaking in the imperial bedchambers, Teddy pulls Billy into his arms to spoon him and nuzzles his face into the side of his neck like the world’s sweetest vampire. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too,” Billy says. He reaches a hand back to pet Teddy’s sweaty hair. “I miss you always. And I missed having sex in space. I mean. This view? Jeez.”
For as huge as it is, the bedroom itself is depressingly minimalist but the Alliance has gone all out on the panorama. The window is the whole wall and the wall is ridiculously oversized, even compared to their ridiculously oversized Earth apartment and its view of the park. Here it’s like they’re in the last shot of Empire without even getting out of bed.
The universe out beyond Titan is gorgeous. The dark expanse is studded with stars and so much distant life, far off nebulae of swirled pink and dusty clouds in the green of beetle wings. Billy runs around all day in magical, galaxy-print spandex so he appreciates a good cosmos when he sees it. And, speaking as someone whose superpower is basically the power of using your words, he also appreciates their first night of marital sex being in full view of the churning clouds of Saturn. The wide gold rings really make for some perfectly on-the-nose voyeurs.
This has been the most insane couple of hours of his life, which says something given how insane his life has been since he turned sixteen and started electrocuting bullies. Last night, he bunked down in an abandoned grocery store surrounded by several of the Big Time Grown-Up Avengers feeling homesick and miserably lonely. Since then, he’s teleported in his sleep; gotten married; gone to space twice; had two nonconsecutive rounds of amazing, limb-melting sex; fought off a military coup; and watched Teddy be crowned King of Space.
At least when Billy was declared a mystical future messiah, they just went out for noodles after. And he had his morally ambiguous ancient Norse Yoda to tutor him with Pringles flashcards. Excelsior’s been being used as a TV tray for over a year and any princely destiny for Teddy has only seemed like a vague possibility. Tonight, Teddy’s fate just went from zero to a hundred in a matter of hours.
Teddy traces a finger over the bandages on Billy’s left wrist. “That didn’t make it worse, did it? It wasn’t too much pressure or movement or anything?”
He’s so cute when he tries to remember the human pain threshold, but there’s real fear in his voice right now and it breaks Billy’s heart. For a super-strong, borderline indestructible hunk who can and will shake off a bullet straight through the head, Teddy’s always been amazing at staying conscious of the relative fragility of the mere human around him, whether that’s on the court back in high school or when they’re out on the street facing off with some D-listers even Spider-Man’s probably forgotten about or, and most relevant and of the greatest personal interest, when he’s in bed with Billy.
Billy rolls over so they’re lying face-to-face. They stick to each other briefly, their bare, sweaty skin fastening them together at the thighs where they’re entangled and Billy’s shoulder catching on Teddy’s chest before he slips into position. It’s like the heat of their naked bodies has manifested the way he wants to cling permanently to Teddy, to keep them together always, forever.
He gives Teddy his best bedroom eyes, which have to be pretty killer right now for how beat he is after the whole third-act fight with the rebels and the workout they’ve just had. “Pretty painless now thanks to you, handsome.”
His wrist really isn’t that bad, especially for getting crunched by the rocky fist of one of the most classic Fantastic Four villains/his mother-in-law’s murderer. It isn’t swelling enough for him to worry about needing actual medical attention and, probably owing a lot to the afterglow, the pain is already reduced down to a steady, mild throb.
But Teddy doesn’t look reassured. He keeps his ginger grip on Billy’s arm and cradles his busted hand to his chest like a wounded bird. He kisses each knuckle tenderly. “I’m so sorry, Billy.”
“Oh, baby, no. It’s not that bad, really. I promise.” He slides his other hand up the back of Teddy’s neck and cups the back of his skull to hold him close.
It’s been years since he’s seen Teddy so shaken. The hardcore rib-crushing he’d received when they’d found each other should have been a sign of how the rest of the night would go. Teddy was already struggling before he even arrived home. The frenzied wedding and their friends were an unbelievable, unreal, perfect distraction crafted by the perfect man. But now it’s just the two of them, naked and true and vulnerable. They are the rawest, truest Wiccan and Hulkling, Billy and Teddy, that they will ever be. And Teddy is frightened. His anxiety has caught back up to him and Billy was only able to hold it at bay with his sexual wiles for so long.
“I agreed to this because it seemed like the best way to make sure no one got hurt. I mean, bringing together two empires after they’ve been at war for a thousand years? Putting an end to extremist cults? Of course I want to help.” He doesn’t lift his head and his breath shakes again, a puff of hot air against Billy’s chest. “But Tanalth wants me to just nuke the opposition. And the opposition wants blood too. A group of Skrulls shot up Drag Brunch just because they saw Raskor and Bel-Dan working together and only stopped when they saw I had the Star-Sword. How am I supposed to be an emperor? I only got a B-minus in government and I can’t even keep you safe from my own war cabinet.”
Billy feels all of Teddy’s anxiety wash over him and is shocked by how it remains settled on the surface. He’s spent so much of his life being dragged under by those same voices of self-doubt, pulled into pits of numbness and despair that sap everything good and enjoyable out of the fabric of the universe.
There has, historically speaking, been a bit of a disparity between them in the emotional labor department. Billy’s brain is full of lurking shadows and cutting blades and the crushing ever-presence of hopelessness. So much of his life is battling exhaustion that leaves him too weak to leave bed, anxiety that makes his heart pound and his stomach curdle. Meanwhile, Teddy’s not just physically resilient but, in addition to regrowing limbs and shrugging off bullets, he’s also never gone three months without showering or pointed a gun at his own head.
So their friends die and everything goes bad and Billy ceases to be a real person and Teddy, perfect and impossible Teddy, pets his hair and holds his hand and proposes they get married. They’re both superheros, but Teddy is as superheroic as they come. He’s a hotter, gayer, non-cockblocking Captain America with much cooler powers. Teddy is always the guy to stand up for what’s right, to look out for the underdog, to find the peaceful option, and he carries all that and his own pain and Billy’s when Billy can’t even bring himself to eat on his own.
But in the face of Teddy’s despair, Billy feels buoyed. Confident. Teddy is struggling and so Billy is strong for him.
He cups Teddy’s face in both hands, tips his chin up so he can look directly into the most beautiful blue eyes the universe has ever known. “You are going to be a great emperor,” Billy says. He doesn’t leave any ‘if’ to the statement. He has spoken a lot of things into existence, but this truth was already there. Teddy is doing this and he is going to be amazing. “You’re smart and you’re kind and you’re patient. You’re the best there is at TNG trivia. You see good in everyone and you are always ready to help and sometimes you threaten to eviscerate people, which is really sweet.”
“I punched him in the face earlier too,” Teddy admits.
“Oh, good.”
Teddy shakes his head. “I messed up. I can’t act on anger that way. I can’t be a good leader and push for peace and lose my temper on my own citizens like that.”
“I know the legacy thing is part of our schtick, hon, but I don’t think I could name anyone less Hulk-like than you. My ‘birth’ dad had his emotions removed and I’m pretty sure he has more of a temper than you.”
Teddy is the more forgiving of the two of them, it seems to come naturally to him. Billy’s always admired that about him, right from the start. But Billy can’t look at Kl’rt and not feel that same nauseating, raging fury that ignited inside him six years ago when he felt Mary Jo’s life slip away and turned to find Teddy missing. Billy believes in forgiveness too, and second chances, and everyone’s ability to always become someone better than they were before, but the Super Skrull getting punched still feels pretty morally acceptable in his book.
It’s eating Teddy up, though. He can see the pain in his eyes.
“It shouldn’t be me. Maybe Captain Marvel can do it, or someone who knows actual space stuff. Somebody who knows what they’re doing. All I did was pull a sword out of a rock and it wasn’t even that stuck. Strange women lying in ponds distributing weapons is no basis for a system of government.”
Oh, Billy loves this man.
He pets Teddy’s hair with his good hand. “Listen to me, husband,” he says, and feels the word and all of its meaning ripple out into the universe around them. They are linked, bound, inextricable. Teddy is his heart and he is Teddy’s. The rings are an anchor, something physical to represent the bond, but they can only guide them back together because of what they represent. Teddy hurts when Billy is hurt but it’s the same right back at him. That’s the deal. Teddy’s burden is never his alone and it never will be. “There is no one I trust with this more than you. Yeah, things are gonna suck, but we’re going to keep going because there are people who need our help. And they will listen to you. Not because of your Buster Sword in the Stone, but because they’re going to get to know you. And when they do, they’re going to respect you for your brain and your heart and they’re going to fall in love with you just like I did.”
Words are Billy’s superpower. They’re his magic hammer, his patriotic shield, his mutated gene, his mongoose blood, and when he speaks, the fabric of reality recognizes the truth of what he says. He can tell Teddy does too, from that familiar resolve that Billy can spot in the creases of his eyelids, the slant of his shoulders, the corners of his mouth.
Teddy draws him in closer. “I don’t want to do this without you.”
“I know, hon.” Billy doesn’t want to either. He wishes he could stay and stare into Teddy’s eyes forever. He’s the one staying on their homeworld but there’s no place that he belongs as much as he belongs right here and he already aches at the separation. But he has to leave in the morning for the same reason Teddy has to stay and they both know it. “I really want to stay. I want to wake up next to you every day. But I will always find you when you need me, no matter how far apart we are, no matter what your soldiers think, no matter how bossy Bucky Barnes gets. That’s the promise we made. You’re never alone.”
And to prove it, he entangles them a little bit more. They have a few hours left until morning and a lot more goodbye kisses to share until then.