Chapter Text
Kevin is on the way to the desert.
This has become somewhat of a common thing since becoming friends with Wile E. Sometimes the coyote comes into town, but Road Runner doesn’t like leaving the desert, and Wile E. doesn’t like leaving the Road Runner, so Kevin just comes to the desert instead. Wile E.’s cave is surprisingly spacious and comfortable now that the towering stacks of ACME supplies are gone, though he still sections off a corner of it where only he is allowed to go, where he keeps his plans for catching the Road Runner.
Kevin thinks this is a little funny, considering the Road Runner's nest is in a different part of the cave, but he isn’t there to judge. There’s obviously something special going on between the two of them, and while Kevin doesn’t pretend to understand it, he’s willing to support it as long as they’re both happy. And they do seem happy, as it’s not uncommon for him to come over after work or on his days off to see them snuggled up together, intertwined in a way his mind never fully comprehends.
Paige says something about courting, but Kevin has never really been a romance expert. He thinks that they both just like the thrill of the chase. Regardless of who is right, Kevin is more focused on and grateful for the fact he somehow fits seamlessly into their life. He half feared that after dropping Wile E. off in the desert when their case was done, the coyote would go back to his chase and he would once again be left behind. Not that Kevin would be all that surprised, given that a lot of his close friends from when he was younger stopped reaching out when they got married and had kids, too busy for a single man who never did the same.
But to his surprise, and eternal delight, he was not the only one who felt like they had particularly bonded after their weeks spent together—various mishaps aside. Just a few days after Kevin thought his only friend might once again be his niece, he got a text from an unknown number. Kevin isn’t sure how Wile E. got a phone, whether he got it legally, or how he gets service all the way out in the desert, but he knows better than to ask. Toon logic confuses him to this day, no matter how long he hangs around them.
Not too long after that, Kevin found himself driving out to Wile E.’s cave to see him again and meet the Road Runner properly. The bird wasn’t too sure of him at first—and honestly, is kinda intimidating—but after learning that Kevin really wasn’t trying to steal his partner away, he warmed up to him pretty fast. Now, Kevin can hardly go a visit without getting crooned over, preened, or doted on. It’s kinda nice to have some attention after years of wasting away by himself in a motel where nothing ever changed. The Road Runner calls their odd little group his flock, Wile E. refers to them as pack, and Kevin just calls them his friends.
He feels a little bad that he doesn’t have a special human word for them, given the obvious deeper meaning that flock and pack have, but he’s not sure what else to call it. Family isn’t wrong, but doesn’t feel exactly right either, especially when that image mostly conjures up his human family. Saying family makes him think of his siblings and Paige. Whatever bond he has going on with the toons is different. Partner isn’t correct either, because that’s what Wile E. and Road Runner use for each other, and Kevin certainly doesn’t view them the way they view each other. He doesn’t think anyone does, really. So, they’re his friends, and that’s good enough for him.
Kevin pulls into the small, clear area next to Wile E.’s cave that he’s started to mentally designate as his parking spot and grabs the bags of takeout from his passenger seat, starting the long journey up to the cave. It’s a bit of a hike, but one that he’s gotten used to, seeing as he does it so often. And to think that he used to think that the stairs up to his motel room were bad. As is common when he comes over in the evening, Wile E. and Road Runner are done with their chasing for the day and instead greet him at the entrance of the cave.
The cave is cozy and has been more recently updated to accommodate more people. The table proudly sports four chairs, and the couch has been traded for a slightly larger, more comfortable one, with a matching armchair that doesn’t get used. At first, Kevin had tried to use the adjoining armchair, not wanting to interfere with Wile E. and Road Runner tucking themselves against each other, but was subsequently wrangled onto the couch anyway. Now, he knows better than to expect anything other than having the pair of them cuddling up against him at any convenient—or inconvenient—moment.
“Hey guys,” Kevin calls up to them, unable to keep a grin off his face. Wile E. waves and Road Runner beeps happily down to him. “I brought Chinese."
Wile E. licks his chops over dramatically, and Road Runner flicks his tongue at him cheerfully before darting back inside the cave. Kevin sets the food down on the little table as plates, cups, and real metal silverware appear around him, Road Runner setting the table with a flash. Kevin doesn’t mind eating out of the styrofoam takeout trays, but he has to admit that something about it feels more special and real when eating off of actual dinnerware.
Wile E. is quick to sniff through everything he brought, dividing it up between them. At first, Kevin had felt awkward about bringing chicken legs to eat with the Road Runner right there, but it’s what he knew Wile E. liked. He had brought a salad and a small cup of fruit to offer the Road Runner as his best guess of what he might like, and as a kind of apology. Turns out, he didn't have to worry, because Road Runners are omnivores, and he had no issue tearing the chicken meat off the bones and eating it. Now, Kevin tries to get boneless meat when he can, just to avoid having to watch that terrifying process again.
The Road Runner hadn't really cared for the salad he brought, but had eaten some of the fruit, so now he only brings blueberries, blackberries, or raspberries when they're in season, because that seems to be what the bird enjoys most. Kevin had ended up eating the salad he brought that first time and still brings a salad sometimes now. He feels bad for assuming the Road Runner would want it, so he eats it himself to keep up appearances that it was for him all along. Besides, it’s good for him, or whatever. Not to say that Kevin never gets any of the other food he brings; both toons make sure he stays well fed.
It’s funny in a way that Kevin finds cute and sweet but also unnecessary, though he never voices the confusion aloud, because it seems very important to them. Wile E. divides the food among the three plates and always gives himself the most meat. Not to say that he takes the vast majority and leaves them with nothing, but he always makes sure to secure a few extra pieces. Road Runner gets the second most, and Kevin gets what’s left.
Kevin was fine with this, if not a little amused, because he eats a lot of the parts of the meals that toons don’t, like the fried rice or lo mein sides that came with the meals. If that meant he got a few fewer pieces of chicken in order to make sure his friends were full, that was fine with him. But as the meal continues, Wile E. gives Kevin some of the extra food, one piece at a time.
Wile E. and Road Runner take from each other’s plates all the time, though Wile E. truly doesn’t care for the sushi that Road Runner has grown fond of, and Road Runner has yet to develop an interest in steak. However, Wile E. seems very intentional about providing Kevin with some of the food off this plate, even if Kevin was technically the one who bought it. Road Runner will do it too, but to a lesser extent, not every time like Wile E.
Kevin has since learned that it’s an instinct the coyote has to provide for the members of his pack, and if Kevin continues to resist eating the freshly caught lizards that Wile E. offers, then food off his plate will have to do. Kevin thinks that even Paige, who is miles more adventurous when it comes to trying new things, would refuse a desert-caught lizard, cooked or not. So now he gladly accepts the offered bits of food, often snuck onto his plate, like none of them know where it’s coming from.
“What did you guys get up to today?” Kevin asks, as if he doesn’t know.
Wile E. doesn’t bother with signs; instead, he performs elaborate motions and gestures, pantomiming the day’s adventure. Road Runner chimes in with occasional beeps of his own, which Wile E. sometimes responds to as if he’s saying something that Kevin just can’t understand, and sometimes as if they’re actually just beeps. Again, Kevin tries not to think too hard about Toon logic.
“That sounds crazy," Kevin says, mostly because it always does. “The type of stuff you get up to is insane.”
Wile E. wipes off invisible dust as if to show how easy it was, and the Road Runner beeps in agreement.
Kevin huffs out a laugh. “For you, maybe. That type of stuff would get me severely injured, if not killed.”
Wile E. stiffens, turning to look at him in something like shock, and Road Runner shifts uneasily. Kevin frowns a little at their response.
“Did you not know that?” He asks, sitting up from where he had been slouching comfortably in his seat.
“Knew toons were more resilient than humans.” Wile E.’s sign reads. “But not sure how much.”
“Okay, look, I’m not really sure how toon things work versus human things, seeing as they can obviously interact, but Wile E.” He looks his friend in the eye. “If that stick of dynamite you set off in the conference room the first day we met was a real one, I would be dead.”
Wile E. just blinks at him, like he’s having trouble comprehending the words being said.
“Sure, humans can be pretty durable, but a fall from the top of a canyon or being crushed by a piano would have us in the hospital. Sometimes just getting tangled over your own feet and falling normally is enough to injure a human, especially as they get older.” Kevin explains but cuts himself off as he realizes he’s scaring his friends. They seem stuck in a state of shock, bewildered and trembling slightly. “Oh, geez. Sorry, guys. I didn’t mean to get all dramatic on you. I promise we’re tougher than you think."
He stands to move closer to them, hoping to provide reassurance, but ends up making it worse by bumping against the table. It doesn’t actually hurt, but saying ‘ow’ is reflexive, and the three of them freeze, staring at each other. He starts to stutter out a promise that he’s fine—he doubts he bumped the wooden edge hard enough to bruise—but it’s too late. Road Runner gently but insistently herds him to the couch, and Wile E. vigorously types away on his phone. Kevin goes without a fuss because he knows it’ll make them feel better, and it’s where they would’ve ended up after dinner anyway, scares about human fragility aside.
He lies down, stretching out to take up the full length of the couch, Road Runner curling up on his chest. He’s light enough that Kevin barely feels him; whether it be a bird thing or a toon thing, he’s not sure. As is not uncommon, Road Runner starts gently messing with his hair, pulling at the strands like one might try to preen feathers. Whether it's part of routine or an attempt at self-soothing this time, Kevin isn't sure, but he doesn't interrupt. His hair is a bit of a mess most of the time anyway, so what's a little more?
He hears Wile E.’s phone buzz, attention drawn over to where the toon is staring at it intensely.
“What are you doing?” Kevin asks. Wile E. shows him the phone. “Did you seriously ask Paige if me bumping against the table meant I was going to die?” He exclaims in disbelief. She is going to have some serious questions for him at the office tomorrow.
Luckily, the coyote seems reassured by her promise that Kevin would be alright and tucks the device away to join them on the couch. Either satisfied with his work or calmed by Wile E.’s lack of concern, Road Runner stops messing with his hair. Instead, he rests his head on top of Kevin’s head, burying his beak in the disheveled strands. He’s been told that the texture is reminiscent of Wile E.’s fur, which he thinks is supposed to be a compliment, but he’s not entirely sure how he feels about it.
"You're just going to stand there, bud?” Kevin asks, noticing that Wile E. has made himself a fixture at the edge of the couch and not actually joined them yet.
Wile E. holds up a sign. "Idiot."
“Hey.” Kevin yelps out in offense. He feels more than hears Road Runner’s beeps of agreement a second later. “Roadie, I thought we were cool.”
Roadie is Kevin’s nickname for the Road Runner, because saying his full name every time is kind of annoying. Road Runner had been unsure about the shortened title at first, but when it was pointed out that Roadie went well together with Wile E., the bird had very much been on board.
The bird beeps again and nuzzles a little closer to him, as if to reassure him.
“We care about all packmates.” Wile E.’s sign now reads. “Even idiot packmates.”
“You know, I can always go somewhere I’ll be appreciated.” Kevin threatens lightly, without making any effort to leave. Road Runner tucks himself impossibly closer at that, and Wile E. shifts even nearer to the couch, fur brushing against skin, narrow eyes showing his displeasure at the thought.
“Stay.” Road Runner’s sign insists, shoved almost unreadably close to his face. “We’ll keep fragile flockmate from getting hurt.”
Kevin isn’t sure whether he’s more offended by being called an idiot or fragile, though he's more worried that Wile E. will get the idea to wrap him in bubble wrap and keep him from getting back out into the impossibly dangerous world. This is what he gets for letting his mouth get ahead of his brain. In all actuality, he isn’t mad and just hopes that he didn’t scare his friends too badly. Their teasing aside, it’s got to be terrifying to realize that something you can brush off without thinking would be enough to severely harm someone important to you.
“Come on, Wile E.” Kevin prompts gently. “I’m getting lonely just looking at you.”
The coyote concedes without any fight at all and curls up on Kevin’s legs, shifting to allow his head to rest on Kevin’s stomach, his nose brushing against the Road Runner’s feathery wings. Road Runner shifts, nuzzling Wile E.’s snout for a quick moment before adjusting to rest his head against Kevin’s shoulder instead.
Kevin uses his hand to scratch lightly at the parts of Wile E.’s fur that he can reach—mostly just around the base of his ears—before settling it on his chest, bumping gently against the Road Runner’s feathers. His wing shifts, sliding to cover part of his hand and also Wile E.’s snout. Kevin smiles softly up at the dark ceiling as the sun begins to set, his heart warmed by his friend’s care and consideration. He’s happy to provide them with all the reassurance they need, even if that means his legs might fall asleep as he spends the next few hours on the couch.