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One thing Nottem had noticed over the years was that PsychoCop was really fond of mundane bullshit.
He was the type to get up early to watch the sunrise, and to watch the sunset as evening began to fall. He knew the constellations, and when Nottem couldn’t sleep he’d often drag the other either outside or to a window to look at the stars.
Nottem could never see shit through the smog and light pollution, only a few little specks of light that were probably stars. But instead of deeming the activity a waste of time, he would squint and nod as he listened to his partner ramble.
If it were anyone else, it would have been annoying. He’d refuse to entertain any of it in the first place. But it was hard to say no when a simple ‘fine’ was enough to make PsychoCop’s entire face light up, and make him tremble with barely restrained energy and joy.
Most times, PsychoCop wasn’t even looking at the sky as he pointed out the supposed shapes there. His eyes were trained on Nottem, unblinking, gauging the reactions he was getting. And Nottem pretended not to notice, seeing no reason to ruin the moment over something so trivial.
He would simply sit, listening as his partner’s voice got soft and reverent. It would ease his nerves, tension that had built up throughout the day beginning to melt away.
Sometimes the two of them would lean against each other and fall asleep like that. And though he woke up sore and aching, it was the best sleep he’d gotten in ages.
Another thing PsychoCop enjoyed was being outside, in public. He was often the first to volunteer when they needed to get more groceries, and when he returned he rarely even seemed upset.
Sometimes he would go out and just walk, stopping wherever caught his eye. He’d return with wildflowers he’d picked from a local park, or food from a restaurant. His Master was the recipient of all these little gifts, of course.
That was something Nottem couldn’t wrap his head around. Why choose to be around the parasites that made their lives miserable? In broad daylight no less, making it impossible to exterminate someone who got on his nerves without getting caught.
He didn’t voice these thoughts, he didn’t need to. The looks he gave when PsychoCop got home were enough.
Despite the stares of judgement and confusion, he never stopped this behavior. (He offered to, once. The first time. He’d wilted under Nottem’s gaze, apologizing and saying that he would never leave the house without permission again. That he would let himself be locked in the basement to correct his behavior. Nottem had only rolled his eyes, saying that was stupid. He didn’t give a shit what PsychoCop did in his spare time, as long as it didn’t attract unnecessary attention)
After a little while, he started asking Nottem to come with him. “It’ll be fun!” He would insist, staring hopefully into the other’s eyes. “I promise!”
“Fuck no.” Was the only reply Nottem would give. Which would be enough to get PsychoCop to slink away, doing whatever it was he did by himself.
Of course, things couldn’t stay that easy. Asking eventually turned into pestering, which in turn became begging.
“I’ll make sure no one bothers you.” He would promise, eyes big and wet. Then he would pout when given the same answer he’d received every other time.
Nottem wished he could say he was unmoved by it all. But in reality, PsychoCop’s desperation and disappointment was hard to ignore. He hated seeing the other upset, even when he knew it wouldn’t last. It was like barbed wire squeezing at his heart.
He also couldn’t be certain of how temporary the feelings would be. PsychoCop could be volatile, and tended to take things personally. Especially when it came to his Master.
And the thought of his partner spiraling because he interpreted basic rejection as scorn and hatred… That wasn’t something Nottem wanted to have to clean up again.
So when PsychoCop approached him one day, going on about a new cafe that had opened a few blocks away, he went against his instincts. When the other looked at him, shy smile on his face, and asked “Maybe we could check it out together?” he didn’t immediately shut it down.
Instead he grimaced, letting out a heavy sigh. “Fine.”
PsychoCop opened his mouth, ready to throw out offers and compromises in an attempt to convince Nottem. Then he registered what had actually been said, and paused, staring slack-jawed for several seconds. “... Really?”
“Are you fucking deaf?” Nottem shot back. “Hurry up before I change my mind.”
PsychoCop beamed at this, taking Nottem’s wrist in a firm, yet gentle grip and physically tugging him out the door.
He rolled his eyes, but didn’t complain. It was hard to when the other was yapping his ear off, rambling about how nice the place looked from the outside and how Nottem was going to absolutely adore it. How great it was to go somewhere together, to have his Master by his side. More than once, he stumbled over his words in his excitement.
Nottem chose to focus on him, rather than the sun beating down on them. Or the other people also littering the sidewalks, or the cars speeding down the streets with engines blaring far too loud.
It didn’t take long to arrive, thankfully. The place seemed decent enough; small, tucked away in the corner of some random street. It was quiet, not overly busy, likely because of how new it was. The air smelled very distinctly of coffee.
Nottem, personally, didn’t see the point in these places. It was extremely easy to just make coffee at home, and far more convenient than dragging yourself to a whole different location so you could tell someone what you wanted and wait for them to hopefully not fuck it up.
He was apparently alone in this mindset, seeing how common shops like these were, especially in New York.
He especially hated how expensive everything was at these places, but he could let that slide just this once. He wasn’t the one paying.
Ordering didn’t take too long, since PsychoCop took care of that as well. He gave them Nottem’s order first, stating each detail with grave seriousness, despite it likely being the least complicated thing they’d ever make. All he wanted was a big, plain black coffee with two shots of espresso.
Then for himself, PsychoCop ordered an abomination of sugar and chocolate, with whipped cream on top.
To top it off, he got two chocolate croissants on the side. One for each of them, he explained.
Utterly ridiculous, but it was his money to waste, so Nottem didn’t respond with anything more than a scoff.
The two of them found a table off to the side and sat across from each other. It was a bit cramped (Or maybe they were just unusually tall), so it was hard to get comfortable without their knees knocking or legs brushing against each other.
PsychoCop had no complaints about this, of course. He wrapped one of his legs around Nottem’s own, fully embracing the lack of space. A serene smile rested on his face.
How nice it must be, to be so easily carefree. Nottem found that relaxation was much harder for him to grasp.
He couldn’t help but be hyperaware of every person around them. There may not have been many, but there were enough to set him on edge. He heard every footstep as they moved around, every scrape of the chairs as they took their own seats, their voices mingling in the air.
One group in particular was being obnoxious. Talking far louder than necessary, making the most immature and unfunny jokes, and letting out the most shrill cackling after each one.
He clenched his jaw, the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his cup tightening into a fist. He could almost understand that sort of behavior if they were at a bar, or somewhere similar. But here? Seriously?
More proof that the average human worm only cared about themself. They were willing to disrupt and ruin everyone else’s experience if it gave them a bit of amusement.
He sipped at his drink. It did little to soothe him, but he had to admit that the acrid bitterness and scalding temperature was rather pleasant. Better than the shitty, cheap coffee grounds they used at home. It would almost be worth going out of the way to get, if not for… The public.
“Master?” PsychoCop prompted after multiple minutes of silence.
Nottem tore his gaze from the table, looking forward to show he was listening.
“Is everything okay?” He asked, a small frown tugging at his lips. Apparently he was unnerved by how tense Nottem was. “Is something wrong?”
“Those cunts won’t shut the fuck up.” Nottem growled, eyes flicking over to glare at them.
“I can tell them to quiet down.” PsychoCop immediately offered, looking offended on Nottem’s behalf. Ready to unleash righteous fury on those who committed the sin of disturbing his Master.
“Don’t.” The last thing they needed was to draw attention to themselves, or god forbid cause a scene.
“Okay.” He deflated, shrinking slightly in his chair. “Can I help some other way?”
Nothing that wouldn’t get them both arrested came to mind. Nottem stared down into the dark void of his drink, grinding his teeth and willing himself to calm down. If for no other reason than not wanting to ruin this for his partner. PsychoCop had been so eager, it hardly seemed fair to trample on that.
“How do you deal with this shit?” He questioned, looking over to stare daggers into the back of the offending party’s heads before returning his eyes to the other man.
Annoying people couldn’t have been a rare occurrence, and PsychoCop was far from a saint. He’d snapped at their allies countless times (Though in his defense, Widowmaker often provoked him first), broken down over extremely minor things, struggled to control his emotions. He was even one of the more frequent, cruel contributors to the secret room in their basement.
So how was it that when in public, he managed to be so effortlessly calm?
PsychoCop pondered the question for a moment. “Well… It’s easy to ignore them.” He answered. “They don’t matter, they’re all going to die in our crusade anyway.”
Nottem blinked. That was a very simple answer. Could it really be that easy?
Sensing the other’s confusion, the former officer continued. “And when they do get on my nerves, I just think about that.” He giggled, voice far too light for the subject of his words. “How fun it’s going to be to exterminate them, watch them all writhe like the maggots they are while we bleed them dry.” His grin stretched, another laugh bubbling out of him. “And they have no idea it’s coming! They don’t even know how scared they should be. It’s.. Really funny, isn’t it?”
For several seconds, all Nottem could do was stare. Then the tightness in his chest started to ease, something in it fluttering free in the process. His own lips curved upward, and a snort tore out of him.
That logic was hard to argue with. It was pretty funny.
“See?” PsychoCop brightened, reaching across the table to rest his hand atop Nottem’s.
Nottem gave a nod. He did see, it was hard to stay pissed off while planning exactly how the vermin who wronged you would die.
“I especially like thinking about what you will do to people when the time comes.” PsychoCop said, almost dreamily. “You always give the most creative, painful punishments…” He sighed, not unlike how someone thinking about their crush would. “So, what are you going to do to them?”
They both looked over at the group, joyful anticipation painting their faces.
Much of the rest of their date was spent fantasizing about their future plans, how they would wipe out each person. (Nottem kept his voice low, making sure they wouldn’t be overheard. He also had to shush PsychoCop a few times, but couldn’t find it in him to be annoyed about it) After the initial offenders, they moved on to the other individuals in the shop.
The loudest of the group was going to be shot in the mouth, naturally. His friends would get stabbed in the chest and their head blown off by a shotgun.
It was decided that the baristas would get a quick death. They'd earned that for being professional and respectful, and for being so good at their jobs. Both PsychoCop and Nottem’s drinks were as close to perfect as something could reasonably get, neither of them had any complaints.
At one point they swapped, deciding to try each other’s beverages. (PsychoCop’s idea, obviously. He’d gone on about how good his was, how it was so delicious and Nottem had to try it) PsychoCop’s eyes watered at how bitter Nottem’s was, but his smile didn’t waver. He took a second swig, saying it tasted exactly like something his Master would love.
Nottem swiped it from him before he could chug any more of it, then he sipped at what he’d been offered.
His nose wrinkled, the sticky sweetness coating his tongue in an instant and churning his stomach. He shoved the cup back to his partner, muttering about how shit PsychoCop’s taste was.
PsychoCop didn’t take any offense, happily taking it back and taking a big drink. He seemed to savor it, licking his lips when he was done, and something told Nottem that it had less to do with the flavor and more to do with who had just drank from it.
Then they dug into the croissants, which Nottem had to admit were quite delicious, despite his usual aversion to sweets. They were flaky and just the right mix of crunchy and soft, and the chocolate wasn’t overwhelmingly saccharine or rich, understated enough to pair well with the buttery taste of the pastry.
Nottem finished his own in only three bites, while PsychoCop nibbled contently on his own like a hamster.
After they were done, he stared at Nottem for a long few seconds. Then without warning he reached over, placing a hand on the other’s face. His thumb swiped the corner of Nottem’s mouth, rough fingers applying gentle pressure before pulling away.
Nottem’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion, face reddening.
“Sorry!” PsychoCop apologized, not sounding sorry at all. “You had a little chocolate there.” He brought his thumb to his mouth, licking off what he’d wiped away.
Nottem bristled, retreating behind his hair as his cheeks burned even hotter. “The table has napkins, you fucking freak.”
PsychoCop only snickered in reply, eyes crinkling in amusement before softening into something sickeningly fond.