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The Hydra trooper’s energy blast sizzles through the air, aimed directly at civilians huddled behind an overturned food truck just seconds before a wall of ice, six inches thick, erupts from the asphalt, intercepting the blast in a shower of steam and shattered ice crystals.
“I got them,” Carlos’ voice comes in its ever steady glacier in the chaos of the downtown street. He stands with one hand outstretched, his breath misting in the perpetual chill that surrounds him. Then, with a single flick of his wrist, he sends a slick of black ice across the street, sending three advancing troopers spinning and crashing to the ground.
From the sky, a comet goes, “and I have you.” Charles falls from the sun like a meteor, wreathed in a corona of harmless, brilliant flame. He lands in a crouch and the shockwave of heat melts Carlos’ ice slick into a harmless puddle of steam, the Hydra troopers now nicely grouped together for a takedown.
Carlos grins, despite their surroundings. ‘It wasn’t always this smooth’, he says in his head.
Charles was a blur of orange and red as he vaulted over a car, unleashing a wave of fire that was a little too wide, a little too wild. Carlos had thrown up an ice shield to protect a news van, but the edge of Charles’ flames had licked against it, instantly vaporizing his defense into a scalding cloud that left him coughing and frustrated.
“Leclerc! Watch your arc!” he’d snapped, his voice brittle with cold anger.
Charles’ face had fallen, the fire around his hands guttering like a snuffed candle. “I had it under perfect control, actually.”
“Yeah, is that why everything’s on fire?” Carlos had snarked back and Charles had rolled his eyes but the issue at hand had been more pressing. Or so Seb had said.
“On your left, cariño,” Carlos calls, his tone is now fond, almost teasing.
Charles smiles, a white-hot flash in the middle of all the smoke. He doesn’t even look, just swings his arm in a wide arc and a whip of concentrated flame snaps out, catching a grenade in mid-air and detonating it harmlessly above the Hydra lines.
The move exposes his back for a split second and maybe a year ago, Carlos would have held his breath, had some kind of bolting reaction go through him because he normally did trust Charles’ speed but he always feared his recklessness. Now, he doesn’t even hesitate. He raises a palm and a seamless dome of ice seals over the gap, deflecting a volley of laser fire. Charles turns just so slightly as he feels the brief, pleasant chill at his back and his grin widens right after. He’s safe, Carlos’ got him.
“So, I had been wanting to try this restaurant for a while—oh, let me,” Carlos picked his pace so he could open the door for Charles, who kind of watched him like he was both ridiculous and the most mesmerizing thing in the world.
For months, they’d been dancing around this, three whole months of hesitant flirting and post-mission coffees and back-to-back bantering. Ollie had started calling them mom and dad at some point, everyone was more or less fed up with them.
In that first night, they’d been so careful, so painfully normal. Charles had talked a mile a minute, his nerves making the sugar packets in the bowl between them spontaneously caramelize. Carlos, trying to project a cool he didn’t feel, had accidentally frozen his espresso solid. They’d stared at each other for a moment, then burst into laughter, the tension melting away faster than ice in Charles’ hands.
“The device is on the roof!” Charles yells, launching himself upwards on a jet of superheated air.
“I will make you a path!” Carlos responds.
Quickly, Carlos crafts a sleek, spiraling slide of perfectly clear ice, leading directly to the rooftop. No jagged staircase or anything clumsy, not again. Charles lands on it without breaking stride, his fire boots creating a momentary hiss but not melting the surface; he fully trusts Carlos’ power, too.
“Ah!” Charles hissed into his mouth, squirming a little on his lap. “Sorry, you— it’s a little cold,” he added, shivering a little as fire powers flared slightly, drawn out by Carlos’ touch on his waist. But before Carlos could try to even stop, he reached up to run his fingers through Carlos’ hair, pulling him closer for another kiss.
“You feel good, though,” Carlos whispered against Charles’ jawline, and duh. He was beginning to be obvious, that was a sign. He trailed more kisses down his neck, nipping at his skin as he went, just to stop from saying more dumb things.
Carlos reached down to cup Charles’ ass in his hands, squeezing gently as he ground his hips against him and Charles moaned softly, arching his back in response to the sensation. They’d been dancing around this for weeks now, hearts racing now with anticipation.
It was kinda awkward at first, but they soon found a rhythm that felt natural and right. Carlos wrapped his arms around Charles’ waist, holding him close as they moved together.
They locked eyes at one point, their bodies had become a dance of heat and cold, fire and ice, and powers or not, Carlos knew the room would be steamy regardless. Charles’ flames licked at Carlos’ skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. And Carlos’ icy breaths mingled with Charles’ hot ones, creating a unique sensation that left them both panting for more.
This was special, the rarest of gifts. The air crackled with energy around them, and for a moment, it felt like the world stood still finally.
Charles manages to reach the rooftop then, sees the pulsating energy core of the Hydra device, and wraps his hands around it. The metal glows red, then white, then slumps into a molten, harmless puddle at his feet.
The fight’s over.
With a triumphant fire burning in his eyes, Charles turns in the sudden quiet, surrounded by the evidence of their perfectly synchronized power. Carlos looks back up, the morning sun glinting off the icy structures he’d created, and a small, proud smile spreads across his face.
The air between them shimmered with the aftermath, the gentle heat of a banked fire and the clean, crisp scent of a winter morning. For the last three years, they’d been scratching and burning and then trying again. Wiping the dust off their knees and facing their foes with the uncertainty of being certain no one else was going to do it.
And then, in between the fireballs and the snow, something more had bloomed. And they were still learning about that, too.