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"Drinks tonight?” Visi asked.
“Fine, but not Sardine,” Janelle said. “I’m so sick of that place.”
“What about Waterboy’s rock bar?” Mal suggested. “That place was cool.”
Herm perked up at the suggestion. “Oh, yeah! We can-could go there. But, we’ll all have to change. Dress code.”
“Fine by me,” Victor said. “I prefer to be incognito when I go out anyway.”
Mal laughed. “You’re literally a huge fucking bat, mate.”
“So? You’re a demon! Not really much you can do about that.”
“I still like to get dressed up,” she said, quite obviously picking at her perpetual wedgie.
Just then Bob-Bob popped his head into the break room. “Why are you all still here? Go, before there’s some all-hands-on-deck emergency.”
“We’re going to the armpit bar, Bobby,” Colm said. “Coming along?”
Rob rolled his eyes. “I know it isn’t called that. That sign is illegible.”
“Oh, please come!” Herm said, too endearing not to be slightly grating on Chad’s nerves. Rob and Herm were friends now, good friends, but the Mecha Man hero worship was too far ingrained into Herm’s DNA.
“Yeah, fine," Rob said. "I’m getting food first though. I’ll see you at 9.”
Chad watched Herm finish cleaning out the coffee pot, stacking everything neatly in the drying rack. Herm didn’t even drink coffee, but he knew if he didn’t do it, the rest of his team, Robert in particular, would drink from the same old disgusting pot day after day.
“Hey,” Chad said, sidling up next to him and placing a hand on his waist. Herm side-stepped his touch. “You want a ride home?” he offered. He knew his voice was a little too loud, but so what if someone overheard?
“Um, thanks, but I’m going with Coop and Punch. They want to look at those kittens my grandma is fostering.”
Chad tutted. “I thought they still had two weeks! I’ve barely gotten to play with them.”
Herm’s eyes darted nervously to the table where half the Z-Team was still chatting, planning their outfits for the night and arguing over their pre-drinks taco truck choices.
“Only one more week,” Herm whispered. “But you can visit them at their house.”
Chad shook his head. “Their place freaks me out. It’s like haunted house or something.”
Herm chuckled as Alice walked over to get some water. “What are you two giggling about?”
“Nothing!” Herm protested. “N-not giggling. Um, Coop? You guys ready?”
Janelle and Colm nodded. Chad nudged Herm in the shoulder. “Hey, wear those skinny jeans tonight. You know, the black ones with the knees cut out.”
Herm grimaced at Alice and hurried away without a word.
“Tacos?” Alice offered.
“Yeah, whatever.”
They climbed into Chad’s car and sat in silence.
“He doesn’t know I know?” Alice said.
Chad groaned. “It’s supposed to be a secret!”
“Is it? You out here touching him and flirting with him in front of everyone!”
He started the car. “Yeah, well, I don’t care if everyone knows. It’s been two months! Everything is great! I don’t understand why doesn't want anyone to know. You think he’d be happy to be seen with me. I’m fucking hot.”
Alice snorted. “Hot-headed.”
“What’s that mean?” he snapped, wrinkling his nose at the smell of hot leather as his hands overheated on the steering wheel.
“Nothing,” Alice muttered. Chad huffed and focused on the road while Alice fixed her makeup in the flip down mirror.
💧💧💧
The Armistice was a metal bar in Echo Park that had very strict rules of conduct. All were welcome, but no super suits, no masks, no gang colors, no grudges. Just music.
But for some it was difficult not to stand out, Herm thought, looking around at his rag-tag group of friends. Victor and Mal, for instance, drew the eyes of several patrons. But no one would dare start anything. The bouncers here were scarier than half the villains in Los Angeles.
Herm was technically incognito, but it didn’t make a difference. He was awkward and weird and wet whether he was Herm or Waterboy. He pulled at the fabric of his jeans. Where was Chad?
Talk about an alter ego. Chad was sweet, loving, funny, and kind. Flambae was a dickhead. Sure, he could be kind and funny too, but it wasn’t the same. It was a character, a persona. And while Herm knew that Chad cared for him, he didn’t think Flambae would take too kindly to the comments and jokes people would make if they knew that he had settled…for this.
So they had to keep it a secret. For longevity’s sake. Because Herm knew that as soon as Flambae saw the shocked expressions of their friends, heard the little quips about Herm being out of his league, he would finally see what Herm had known this entire time.
Chad deserved someone better.
“Cool shirt,” someone said, and Herm turned to lock eyes with a tall guy with a purple buzzcut.
“Oh, um, thanks! You like Immortal?”
The guy nodded. “Yeah, but I prefer Abbath.”
“I love Abbath!” Herm shouted. “Oh, sorry, heh. Not that many people I know like them.”
“Abbath sucks,” another, more familiar, voice said behind him.
Herm turned to see Chad and Alice standing there. Alice was looking beautiful as always with her signature pink and blue hair combed up into a mohawk, huge skull hoops and a studded hot pink denim jacket.
Chad was practically naked, but in a good way. In addition to his favorite red leather pants, a leather chest harness was straining against his bulging pecs. Herm didn’t even know he owned something like that. Good grief.
“Satyricon all the way for me,” Chad finished, sliding into the barstool behind Herm and placing a possessive arm around his shoulders. The other guy rolled his eyes and walked away.
Herm ducked out of his grasp and rounded on him. “What did you do-say that for! You don’t think Abbath sucks.”
Chad shrugged, signaling the bartender. “That guy sucked. Like my outfit?”
Herm had liked his outfit, quite a lot, but now he was irritated. “I’m going to find Mal,” he muttered, and he stormed away.
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Chad watched Herm and Mal, half dancing, half talking. Herm was gesturing wildly with his hands which meant he was likely complaining, probably about Chad.
Yeah, it had been childish, but he just couldn’t help it. Herm looked so fucking hot and that guy obviously thought so too. And because Herm still couldn’t even admit to his closest friends that they were together, maybe he didn’t think they were. Maybe they weren’t even in a relationship at all. Maybe Chad had blown this whole thing into something it wasn’t.
“You’re depressing me,” Alice complained. “Come dance.”
Chad shook his head and signaled the bartender. “A triple,” he demanded.
The guy arched an eyebrow at him. “That’s a lot.”
Chad held up three fingers, the tip of each lit with a small flame like a candle. “I can handle it.”
The bartender grabbed a glass and filled it with bourbon.
By the time Chad had paid and turned back around Alice was gone, but her seat wasn’t empty.
“Hey Bob-Bob.”
“Hey, buddy,” Rob said, his voice mellow and slightly slurred. Drunk again. “Why you over here? Join the party!”
Chad knocked back the rest of his drink, threw a twenty on the bar and pointed at the glass. He was getting fucking drunk tonight if it killed him.
“Not in the partying mood, Robert.”
Rob made a low noise, like a grunt or a laugh. He clutched the neck of his beer bottle, taking a swig.
“You must be pretty proud of that,” he said, pointing at where Herm was dancing with Alice and Mal.
“What? What do you mean?”
“Oh, nothing, just, I know he was your project for like a year. He’s controlling his powers now, he’s stuttering less, and the body on him…” He trailed off, sipping his beer. Chad tried to look at him, but his vision was red and blurry.
“What about his body?” Chad asked carefully, the flames licking over his bones.
Rob chuckled. “Nothing. I know you guys have been working out together, that’s all. It shows. He looks–” Rob laughed again. “–he looks fucking hot. If I wasn’t his dispatcher well…”
Chad spun round, took the fresh glass of bourbon, knocked it back in one and held it out for a refill. The bartender pursed his lips. “I don’t know, man,” he said.
“It burns off,” Chad replied, trying to sound sober. This was true, but there was a limit. “I’d need to drink half the bar to get tipsy.”
“That’s true!” Rob added, draping a limp arm over Chad’s neck. “He never gets drunk.”
The bartender stared at Rob for a minute then poured Chad another drink. “No more for him,” he added, pointing at Rob.
Chad sighed. “No.”
The music changed and a few people groaned, but Rob perked up. “Ooh! I put this on! Come on, Chaddio! Come dance!”
Chad shook his head. “Rob, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but fuck off.”
Rob saluted him and danced away to where the rest of Chad’s friends were mingling and laughing and–
You better fucking not.
Rob grabbed Herm’s hand and pulled him close, singing along with the music and swaying like an old fucking man at a wedding. Herm let out a surprised laugh, grabbing the other man by the waist as he teetered over.
Rob looked back at Chad with a grin and then, he fucking winked.
Chad launched himself from the stool and stormed over, the liquor coursing through his veins filling him with a blinding rage.
“You’re not even drunk!” he yelled, grabbing Rob by the wrist and pulling him to standing. “What the fuck?”
Rob laughed, tugging his arm away and rubbing at the pink mark Chad had left.
“Chad,” Herm said, a slight warning in his voice as he stood in front of Rob, protecting him. “What’s going on?”
“Why don’t you want them to know!” It was the only thing on his mind so it was the only thing he could think to say. “What? You’re fucking embarrassed of me? You’re fucking ashamed of me? Then say it!”
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Herm looked from Chad to the rest of his friends, all waiting, wide-eyed, for something to happen. Then he heard a small belch and turned back to Chad. He was swaying, tendrils of smoke escaping from his nose and mouth.
“How much have you had to drink?”
Chad covered his mouth and shook his head.
“Get back!” Rob shouted at the rest of them as Herm grabbed Chad around the waist and dragged him through the bar and out the door.
And not a second too soon, because Chad erupted as soon as they were outside, blowing fire like a dragon as what appeared to be an entire bottle of bourbon evaporated upon expulsion from his body. Herm soaked his hands and pulled Chad’s hair back, ensuring none of it got singed as he let out a few more boozy fireballs.
“I’m okay,” he finally said, spitting black into the street before collapsing on the charred curb.
Herm watched as he pulled his knees to his chest; a feat in such tight pants. “No wonder you’re so embarrassed of me,” Chad muttered.
Herm came over and sat next to him. “What are you talking about?”
“Why else would you want to keep it a secret?”
A crushing weight settled in Herm’s chest as a realization took hold. “You think I’m embarrassed, of you?”’
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Chad shrugged. This was so humiliating. Not only the scene he’d just made in front of their friends, but getting drunk, being sick, and now all this feelings bullshit. Maybe he was just delusional, thinking he was actually cool enough, good enough, to have something that mattered.
“Chad, I’m not asham-embarrassed of you,” Herm said. “I just don’t want to know-hear-deal with their opinions. You know what they're like. They are going to laugh and make jokes about how I’m p-paying you or how you lost a bet or you hit your head too many times. They all think you’re out of my league, which I already know, but once you start hearing it from everyone else, I’m worried you’re finally going to see what I’ve been telling you for months. You deserve better.”
Chad choked back a fiery belch. “Bullshit. If anyone is punching above their weight class, it’s me. I’m a fucking dick. It's insane that I have a nice, sweet, caring boyfriend. I've done nothing to deserve you."
"Buh-boyfriend?"
Chad really wished he could blame alcohol for that, but it had all been burned off or thrown up.
"Am I wrong?" he spat, a little too harshly. "I'm obviously not a fucking expert on romance, but this isn't a fuck buddy situation. You can't tell me–" But his unplanned rant was cut off by a cool, moist kiss.
“I’m so sorry,” Herm said, and he sounded it. Shit. He looked ready to burst into tears. “I convinced myself I was going to ruin it. And so then I did. I almost ruined it."
Chad kissed him again. "Almost. Not quite. And hey, I assumed you didn't want people to know because I'm such a hot-headed fuck up. And what do we have here?" he joked, gesturing to the charred concrete.
“It looks better that way,” Herm said. “More authentic.”
Chad stood and held out a hand for Herm. “We should probably go deal with this.”
Rob met them at the door, the rest of the Z-Team sitting off to the side looking contrite.
"Sorry,” Rob said. “It was just a prank. I was pretending to be into Herm so you two would finally admit that you are hooking up. I didn’t mean it."
"We're not hooking up!" Herm protested. Chad’s brow furrowed for only a moment before Herm wrapped his arm around his waist. "Chad is my boyfriend."
"Yeah," he said, bolstered by Herm’s confidence. "And if any of you got a fucking opinion about that, keep it yourselves!"
Their team stared at the them for a second; some shocked, some disappointed, some almost angry. Maybe Herm was right.
"I have a very important question," Victor asked, practically vibrating with excitement.
"What?"
"When did this start? Exactly?"
"The night of that fire, I guess," Herm said, looking to Chad for confirmation.
Chad nodded. "Yeah, so two months ago."
Victor let out a happy scream that had several patrons clutching their ears.
"Sorry! Sorry!" he called. The rest of the Z-Team groaned, throwing twenties at Victor.
"You knew," Chad said to Alice. "Why are you paying?"
"I bet Herm would break first, even though I knew it'd be you. Little bitch." She smiled at him in that way that told him this was a compliment, not a criticism.
Victor gathered his winnings and gave half to Mal. Just then, a huge angry man with a shaved head covered in flame tattoos came over. “Youse are gonna have to pay for the damage to the front or you’ll face a ban.”
Chad looked at Herm’s crestfallen face. “But, no! I can clean it, I can–please don’t–”
“Is this enough?”
Mal was standing between them now, holding out a stack of twenties. The bouncer took it, did a quick count and nodded. “Okay, but no more fires, no more fights, just chill the fuck out.”
Herm exhaled with relief. He looked at Chad now, those steely gray eyes shimmering. “I don't care if you are a hot-headed dickhead, but please do not get me banned from my favorite bar.”
“I won’t! I’m chill!” Chad said. “I’m so chill.”
“Fine, then come dance with me already.”
Chad wrapped his arms around Herm’s waist and carried him onto the dance floor. When he put him down he noticed Herm’s hands were still wrapped around the front of his leather harness.
“How come I didn’t know about this?”
Chad grinned. “Dunno. You like it?”
Herm nodded. “No more secrets, okay?”
“Yeah, no more secrets.”