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Winn awoke to a cool, sticky glass window pressed up against his face and a lot of shouting. He immediately jolted upright, but dreaded what he’d find behind him when he turned. Slowly he twisted his head and peered at the situation between slitted eyes, immediately opening them in shock when the mascot who punched Mon-El promptly broke his hand.
“Okay! Time to go!” shouted Winn as he pushed Mon-El out the door.
“Wait, Winn! I have to apologize. I didn’t mean to do that, I swear,” said Mon-El as he struggled to evade Winn’s octopus arms. How someone so small could be so effective at stopping a man with super strength was beyond Mon-El’s comprehension.
However, Winn was not paying attention to Mon-El’s pleas. He was more concerned about what they were going to do when Director Henshaw heard about this.
“Shit, shit, shit! I’m so screwed. Director Henshaw is gonna to have me taken out back and shot in the head for this!”
Winn’s words startled Mon-El, causing him to freeze in the middle of the street and ignore Winn’s incessant pushing. Winn bumped into him and almost lost balance, but Mon-El steadied him with a grip on his shoulders.
“What, really? They do that here?” Mon-El quickly clamped his hands over Winn’s head, protecting it from any potential bullets. Winn first tried to pry Mon-El’s hands off his head, but when that didn’t work he began a futile attempt to squirm away. Mon-El refused to let go.
“No, Mon-El. They do not do that here! It’s just a figure of speech,” the squirming continued until Winn seemed to deflate, “And can you please let go of my head? You’re ruining my ‘do.”
“Ah, I see,” Mon-El took one hand off Winn’s head, but paused before removing the other, “What’s a ‘do?”
Winn, now being held in place with one super powered hand, exasperatedly replied, “It means you’re ruining my hair! Now let go!”
Mon-El released Winn from his hold, who promptly stomped off. Then, once realizing what he’d done, came immediately back for Mon-El and grabbed him by the hand. He pulled the Daxamite determinedly forward.
“Listen Mon-El, this night was fun and all, but we really have to get you back or I’m screwed.”
Mon-El looked down at their clasped hands, and smiled a little to himself. Clearly Winn hadn’t noticed, and Mon-El wasn’t going to point it out lest he tried to pull away.
“Listen Winn,” Mon-El paused so that Winn could appreciate what he did there, but all Winn did was roll his eyes and snort, “Why do humans have such weird sayings? Who says ‘do when referring to hair? And on my planet screwed is used in an entirely different sense, if you know what I mean.” Mon-El made sure to catch Winn’s eye and execute a perfectly timed wink.
Winn’s entire face flushed scarlet, and he looked down immediately, startled. It was then he noticed they were still holding hands and tried to disentangle himself, but Mon-El held fast. When Winn sent him a questioning look, he only smirked.
“Holding hands keeps me warm. You wouldn’t want me cold, right Winn?” said Mon-El, plastering himself up against a quickly reddening Winn.
Winn, vastly appreciating the feel of Mon-El’s fit body, shook his head and replied, “Nope. Warm is good. Warm is great. But not too warm, heh heh.”
Mon-El smiled fondly down at Winn and sidled a little bit closer.
“No. Not too warm at all,” Mon-El purred in Winn’s ear, causing shivers to race down the other’s spine. Startling to a stop, Winn gulped down some much-needed air, and promptly choked on it. Mon-El began to rub circles on Winn’s back to aid the coughing fit that ensued, but it just made his spluttering worse. After a few moments, Winn’s choking eased. However, his embarrassment remained.
‘Goddammit. A hot super powered guy is clearly trying to hit on me, but I’m ruining my chances by being utterly spastic,’ thought Winn, mentally berating himself.
Mon-El’s hand stilled on Winn’s back and rested between his shoulder blades, radiating warmth.
“You okay?” Mon-El asked, voice pitched low and soft. He was hunched over Winn protectively, lips right by the other man’s ear. Winn turned his head slightly and locked gazes with Mon-El’s pale, blue eyes. He swallowed a few times, mouth suddenly dry at Mon-El’s proximity.
“Ya, ya. I’m fine,” whispered Winn, tone unconsciously mimicking Mon-El’s.
“Good, I’m glad.” Even after making sure Winn was alright, Mon-El made no attempt to move from his position. Winn didn’t want him to.
They were jolted from the moment when a person from behind them yelled out, “There they are!” The man was burly, tall, and pointing right at where Mon-El and Winn were standing huddled together on the side walk. The most important part, however, was the mob that began to advance towards them at the man’s words.
The mob was filled with equally as tall, burly men; some of them wielding knives, or even hammers.
‘Hammers? Really?’ thought Winn, lamenting at their luck. As the mob pressed forward Mon-El pushed Winn behind him for protection. Winn realized what was about to happen and began to panic.
“Oh no! We are not about to get into a fight with that crowd of angry men! They have hammers!” Winn said, desperately tugging on Mon-El’s shirt sleeve. Annoyed, Mon-El shook him off.
“What? You think I can’t take them? Just watch me!” Mon-El strolled forward to meet the mob, confident in his abilities, though slightly irritated that Winn didn’t trust him to protect him. Winn immediately ran forward and wrapped his arms around the alien, attempting to pull him back with all his might; it didn’t work and only resulted in Winn sliding across the pavement while still attached to Mon-El.
“No! It’s not that! You are very strong. The strongest! Just please! I really don’t want to end up on national television when they hit you with a hammer and it shatters into a million tiny pieces! Pieces will undoubtedly somehow end up in my eye!” Winn rambled desperately, knowing he couldn’t stop Mon-El but trying his best to do so.
Mon-El stopped abruptly and heel turned, grabbing Winn by the arms and leaning in close. “You really think I’m the strongest?” He waited with bated breaths on Winn’s answer.
“Oh ya! So strong!” Mon-El smiled to himself. “But, can we please get out of here?”
Staring down at Winn in contemplation Mon-El couldn’t help but ask, “Are you sure you don’t want me to fight them?”
The mob was almost upon them.
“I’m sure! Please!” Winn knew that if Mon-El fought them, and maybe even killed one by accident, it wouldn’t just be Director Henshaw that would have him shot, Kara would also gleefully participate.
Mon-El nodded briskly and pulled Winn up against his chest, wrapping an arm securely around his waist. With a final smirk at the mob, who was now shouting obscenities, he said, “Hold on tight.”
Then he jumped.
When Winn’s screams of fear had ceased Mon-El muttered in mid air, “You sure say please a lot. All you had to do was ask.”