Chapter Text
They still sparred — hard. Bruises were basically their love language.
One afternoon, after Buttercup successfully flipped Butch onto the mat, she stood over him smirking. “Say it.”
Butch, flat on his back, smirked back. “You’re obnoxiously strong and stupid hot.”
She blinked. “...That’s not what I meant.”
“Well it’s what you’re getting.”
Then he hooked his leg around hers and yanked her down beside him.
They laughed like idiots.
