Enemies with Benefits

Annoying.

“Comes with the job.”

Hero didn’t laugh.

Villain could feel their gaze following every movement as they loosened their cuffs and headed for the hallway.

Don’t ask questions, Hero. Please.

“I’m going to shower,” Villain said lightly. “Then you can scold me for my work-life balance.”

Behind them, silence.

Then—

“Turn around.”

Villain stopped. 

Their eyes slid shut for half a second.

Damn it.

Hero almost never used that tone. 

It slipped under Villain’s ribs and curled around their spine until disobedience felt impossible.

Villain stood there for a moment arguing with themself.

They could ignore it. 

Technically.

They could laugh and keep walking and lock the bathroom door behind them.

Hero wouldn’t force them, would never force them. But then they would get that look in their eyes tomorrow morning. Hurt hidden behind understanding. Quiet acceptance masking their worry.

Villain hated that look. Hated being the cause of it even more. It was ridiculous, honestly. They faced armed mercenaries without blinking. Lied to governments. Walked into torture chambers with their pulse steady.

But Hero saying ‘turn around’ in that soft voice? 

Devastating.

Villain almost smiled despite themself. 

Idiot. 

Completely gone for them.

They hid the expression before turning around carefully.

Too late.

Hero’s mouth twitched.

“You’re amused?”

“No.”

Liar.

Hero stood and walked closer.

Villain kept their posture easy despite the pounding in their skull. Their suit was still immaculate. Hair still neat enough. They knew how to hold themself together.

Hero's gaze travelled over them once, calculating.

Too perceptive. 

Villain resisted the urge to fidget.

“You’re favouring your left side,” Hero said quietly.

“A bruise.”

“You took your gloves off before your coat.”

Villain blinked once.

“The blood on your collar bothered you more than the blood on your hands,” Hero continued softly. “Which means you knew it was there already.”

Clever thing.

Villain kept their expression smooth. “You always did overanalyse me.”

Hero ignored that entirely. Their gaze lifted to Villain’s face instead.

“And you have a concussion.”

Villain sighed softly through their nose. “Mild.”

“One pupil’s blown.”

“…Moderate concussion.”

Hero stepped closer. Villain held perfectly still.

“You should sit down,” Hero murmured.

“I’d rather shower first.”

“Why?”

Villain smiled faintly. “Because I’m covered in blood?”

“No.” Hero tilted their head slightly. “That’s not the reason.”

Dangerous.

Dangerous conversation.

Villain’s stomach tightened.

“You’re very determined tonight.”

“You’re very evasive tonight.”

Villain looked away briefly, gaze catching on the bathroom door. So close.

Hero followed the glance immediately.

Ah.

Villain suppressed a grimace.

Hero softened then, all sharp intelligence melting into something unbearably fond.

“Okay,” they said quietly. “One thing first.”

Villain eyed them warily. “Hm?”

“Just one hug.”

Absolutely not.

The answer flashed through Villain instantly. 

It was too risky. Far too close. 

Hero would feel the shaking. The bruises. The way Villain flinched at pressure in the wrong places.

Worse—Villain wanted it.

God, they wanted it.

They were exhausted down to the marrow. Their head rang. Their skin still crawled from unwanted hands and cruel laughter and being held down—

No.

No.

Shower first.

Control themself first.

Hero watched the war play across their face and softened further.

“I don’t care that you’re dirty,” they said gently. “Then you can shower and I’ll stop bothering you.”

Villain almost laughed at that. As if Hero had ever stopped bothering them. As if Villain had ever truly wanted them to.

Their chest ached suddenly with helpless affection.

Hopeless.

They were absolutely hopeless for this person.

“…One hug,” Villain muttered.

Hero smiled immediately.

It hit Villain right in the ribs.

Idiot, they thought again, exasperated and terribly fond.

Slowly, reluctantly, Villain spread their arms slightly in invitation.

Hero stepped into them at once.

One arm slid around Villain’s waist. The other curled around the back of their neck.

Villain stiffened immediately.

Wrong.

Hero didn’t usually hug like this.

Their pulse stumbled. “Sweetheart—”

Too late.

Hero’s fingers had already disappeared into their hair, searching and careful.

Then suddenly not careful at all as fingertips brushed the sticky blood matted at the back of Villain’s head.

Villain hissed sharply.

Hero went still for exactly one second.

Then their hand at Villain’s waist tightened.

Not affection anymore. 

…Assessment.

They tried to pull back immediately, but Hero's other hand slid lower first, fingertips grazing beneath the hem of their shirt.

Pain flared white-hot across Villain's hips. They jerked violently.

Hero froze.

Beneath the lifted fabric, dark purple fingerprints bloomed across Villain's skin, stark even in the dim hallway light.

Villain's stomach dropped clean through the floor.

No. 

No no no—

Hero stared.

Then their gaze snagged on another bruise, lower this time.

Teeth.

Villain felt Hero go utterly motionless against them. 

Too late. They knew.

Villain shoved them back hard enough that Hero stumbled.

“Don’t.” 

Their voice cracked violently. 

Hero stared.

Their hand lifted instinctively, then stopped halfway when Villain flinched.

Villain dragged their shirt back down with hands that refused to cooperate. One side caught on their belt. They yanked harder than necessary.

"Well," they muttered, forcing an exhausted smile. "That was invasive."

Hero didn't answer.

The colour had drained from their face.

Villain's smile faltered.

"...Mostly fine," Villain conceded.

Hero's eyes flicked to the blood still drying in Villain's hair.

"...Mostly."

The silence stretched.

Hero swallowed once.

"Who?" they asked quietly.

Villain blinked. "What?"

"Who did this to you?"

Villain looked almost offended. "That's an incredibly broad question. You see, it could be the concussion. Could be the broken ribs. Could be—"

Villain caught themself too late.

"...Actually, no, let's not make a list. It'll ruin the night."

Another silence stretched between them.

When Villain spoke again, the humour was thinner now. Held together by habit.

"It wasn't..."

Their jaw locked.

The next word refused to come.

For a long moment they simply stood there, staring somewhere over Hero's shoulder, as though waiting might make the sentence finish itself.

"...Consensual."

They laughed quietly.

"I've discovered it's a remarkably unpleasant thing to say out loud."

Hero's gaze never left their face. 

Their hand curled slowly into a fist.

"I assure you," Villain murmured, eyes fixed stubbornly on the floor between them, "it was not a lapse in judgement. I wasn't—" Their throat worked. "With them. By choice." Villain shut their eyes. "I fought." 

A breath. 

"I lost."

Their laugh broke halfway out.

"Embarrassing, really.”

They squeezed their eyes shut. 

“...I didn't choose it." 

Their hands started shaking. "I tried to—to make them stop.”

"Villain."

"I would never—"

Their voice disappeared. 

They tried again. 

"I would never do that to you."

A flicker crossed Hero’s face.

Rage. 

Cold, silent, catastrophic rage.

Their jaw tightened so hard a muscle jumped beneath the skin.

“...Didn’t catch it the first time, love. My mistake.” Hero took one slow step forward. “Who?”

Villain took a step backward.

Hero took one forward. 

Villain hated the tremor in their own hands. Hated the tears burning suddenly behind their eyes even more.

“It’s handled,” they said tightly.

Hero looked at them like they’d said something insane.

Villain’s head throbbed harder. The apartment tilted unpleasantly.

“I said it’s handled.”

Hero’s voice came very quiet. "You weren't hiding the blood."

"—That’s enough."

Villain turned away.

"..."

"Villain."

They stopped.

This time, they didn’t even try to turn around.

*~*~*~*

Villain whumpees that are trying very hard to remain stoic AND FAILING RAAAGGGHHH *chomps violently* 🤌🤌🤌 chef's kiss. making out with the chefs, even.

Still, Hero chased him, dodging people paused in motion and hurdling the same frozen cars he did. Eyes locked on the black backpack bouncing against his back. Villain wasted a precious second throwing down some trash cans to trip her up, which she cleared easily and closed the distance between them significantly. She was almost literally on his heels.

“Just give up already!” Villain huffed from ahead, daring to glance back at her for a split second with a cheeky grin.

“Got you!” Hero took advantage his mistake and lunged, tackling him to the ground. Down they pitched onto the cement, the slap of their collision loud in the alley. Unfazed, Villain immediately rolled and shoved her off, but she was ready with a kick aimed at his knees. He dodged, she punched, he blocked, she swung, he swung, she swerved and it went on and on and on, her swings growing steadily more sloppy while he only smiled.

Unfortunately, Hero was used to being the only one as fast as a bullet train. When she fought villains, it only took one speed-enhanced punch to end a fight. But with Villain, she actually had to fight with technique and strength and stamina and all those things she really hadn’t worked on because everything had been so easy before.

It was why she kept losing.

He really ticked her off.

“Oooh, that one was close,” Villain taunted, as he easily stepped out of range of her kick. He’d dropped the backpack a moment earlier, freeing up his motion. She growled and went in for a series of jabs.

“Shut…up…and…stand…still!”

He laughed, dancing away while raking his hair off his forehead. He didn’t even look sweaty, not like her all red-faced and heaving like an out-of-shape tomato. Once again, it seemed like she was going to lose.

I can’t lose.

“Come…here!” She tried to surprise him with another all out tackle. Villain was taller than her and probably had 50 lbs on her, but even a bullet train couldn’t stop the angry bullet train coming at him head on. That’s what she’d thought, anyway.

He simply stepped aside and caught her wrists.

Like a cat dangling above bathwater, she writhed and kicked, but Villain twisted her arms in front and pulled until her back hit his chest.

“Hey now,” he purred, his voice shockingly close to her ear. She felt his breath warm on her neck, and goosebumps sailed down her arms. She struggled in his grip to no avail. “I think it’s time for you to go home. I’m out of your league, and you know it.”

“Not a chance,” she spat, then stomped on his foot.

He gasped and let go, but when she went in for another hit, he was ready for it, catching her fist in his hand. Anger flashed in his eyes, and in her eyes, she could see the end of the fight as clear as day. He would knock her out in one punch, then leave with the backpack full of stolen property. She’d be left humiliated and disgraced. Hero shivered—losing was not an option.

There was no way around his strength, though. They were both bullet trains, but he was built of size and steel. How could she win?

“Are you going to give up now, or do I have to put you in your place?” He sneered down at her.

Desperately, she searched his face, scouring for some weakness she’d missed. His hand was still wrapped around her fist, and all she could see was disdain growing in his gaze. She didn’t have much time before his other fist met her temple. She had to act, she had to do something, anything to win.

His mouth parted. “Fine, I guess I’ll have to—”

She lunged forward, closing the space between them in an instant. The words died on his lips as she pressed her lips against his. Warm and soft, she discovered. And startled, still partly open as if to speak. Perfect.

Her hand slipped easily from his loosened grip, and she sprinted for the backpack, left vulnerable on the ground. Scooping it up, she ran forward and didn’t look back. No sounds of pursuit followed her.

And Hero smiled, because she’d won.

tbc maybe??

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~