the world is ugly but you’re beautiful to me

Hobie rolls over in bed, he takes a deep inhale of the chilly morning air and gets a whiff of your perfume. It’s as if his dream is still lingering in his sleep-addled mind. Turning over to the bedside table all limp limbs moving sluggishly, Hobie opens the drawer and takes out another alarm clock identical to the one he broke and brings out a polaroid of you he took at the airport before you left. You were looking over your shoulder with a sad smile, eyes still glistening from the tearful goodbye as you lug behind your suitcase.

“Mornin’, love.” He says to the picture of you, bringing it to his lips before gently placing it down on the bedside table right next to your perfume you purposely left so he could spray it all over the houseboat whenever he misses you. He’s on his sixth bottle, but whenever you two call, he shows you how much of the so-called original bottle is left.

Reluctantly sitting up, skin rising from the cold when the blanket falls from his bare torso, he has an intense urge to give you a call as he reaches for his phone. He’s already out of international minutes for the month even though it’s just the second week, but he could still send you the traditional good morning text he sends you every morning. He just feels irritable the whole day whenever he forgets to do it.

With one bleary eye open, he yawns and checks his messages. There’s one from Ned and it’s just a simple, “what are you two doing tonight?” from him. He leaves it unopened to remind himself to reply to it later once he’s got some caffeine in him. There’s one from Yuri, and it’s all just exclamation marks for some reason, to which he just replies a bunch of question marks. James left him a voice message, and when he plays it it’s just him screaming on the phone and telling him to wear protection. His brow raises at that, maybe the bloke is just drunk again. But not a single one of those messages is from you, not even a goodnight on your end, or the usual retelling of your day.

Hobie immediately feels like his day is going awful. For one, he woke up from a dream where you came home as a surprise, and two, it seems that you’ve forgotten to send him a text. He figures that you’re just busy, he understands that, but that doesn’t mean he’s casual about it, nope, he’s not even nonchalant about it, he’s very chalant about it. He misses you so much that he could even hear you humming from the kitchen.

Wait. He’s sure he’s not going insane.

Eyes widening, he flings the blankets off of him and rushes out of the bedroom and over to the kitchen with a slam of the door that he’s sure broke a part of the wall from the sheer force of it. He ignores the biting cold on his bare legs and torso as he sees you standing in the kitchen, wearing one of his old band tees and basking in the light whilst you make breakfast.

Hobie died in his sleep from all the beating from Doc Ock the other day and he has gone to heaven. Or that’s what it feels like when he sees you.

“Love?” His voice is sweet and tender as he braces himself on the doorway.

“Hey, morning, Hobs.” Your eyes glitters underneath the sunlight, head turning towards him, before your eyes roam down with a chuckle and a low whistle. “Damn, good morning to you too, Hobie junior.”

Ah, yes, that’s why he feels cold, he’s as naked as the day he was born. Then he remembers, that wasn’t a dream, you coming back home was real. He’s never making drinks ever again when he makes them with too much alcohol to chaser ratio. He could blame you for distracting him too much whilst he made it and you were basically pawing at him, but he can’t lie that it was a good distraction.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re real.”

“I knew that third G and T was too much.” Chuckling, you open your arms to him, and he grabs the nearest clothing from him— your cardigan on the dining chair, as he ties it around his waist, walking over to you, eyes never leaving your form. “Hi, Wallace.”

“My Gromit.” Hobie wraps his arms around you, face burying in the crook of your neck, nuzzling his nose right at your pulse. “I thought I was dreaming.”

You coo, palms rubbing up and down his bare back as you warm him up with your touch. “Drinking was definitely a bad idea.” Giggling above his temple, you pepper the side of his face with kisses. “I’m here and I’m real, Hobs.”

He sighs in relief, shoulders slacking, muscles easing as he cuddles close. “‘m so fuckin’ glad it wasn’t jus’ a dream.”

“Me too,” pecking his cheek, you cup his face in your warm hands and pull him away gently. The softened look on his face almost made you pull him back against you if not for the pancakes sizzling in the pan and teetering from becoming burnt rocks. “Did I hear something crash in the room?”

“...no.” he pouts as your hands leave his skin so you could turn to flip the pancakes with ease. His arms still hold onto you, his chest against your back as you feel him breathe and rest his chin on your shoulder. “It was the alarm clock.”

“I’ll get you an indestructible one.”

He hums, lips finding the hinge of your jaw as his kisses trail from your face down to your throat. “I have enhanced strength, lovie.”

“Hobie, we need to have breakfast first…” you utter in between hitched breaths as his hands rub along your sides lovingly. “You told me that you wanted pancakes last night.”

“Did I?” He pauses, lips just underneath your ear lobe. “I can wait. ‘m not that hungry. For pancakes anyway.”

“What do you think you’re doing, hm?” Giggling from his kisses, you lean against him, careful with the spatula in hand.

“Makin’ sure that ‘m still not dreamin’.” His eyes are fully closed, kissing you blindly, as if he’s trying to remember your face through his lips.

“I can tell you that you’re not, Hobie.” You feel his rough palms go under your shirt, caressing your stomach affectionately.

“Jus’ shut the stove off, lovie.”

Who are you to say no as you feel heat bloom in your stomach? You close the stove, turn around to face him and he pulls away briefly to lift you by your legs, hands underneath your thighs as he looks up at you with reverence.

“There’s one thing we need to do to prove that we’re not dreamin’”

“And pray tell what is that?” Arms thrown over his neck, you beam at him, lower lip bitten to stifle a laugh.

“It’s in the bedroom though.” He feigns innocence, head tilted, the corner of his lips tugging into a not so subtle smirk.

Your grin was well worth the wait as your fingers gently tug at the curls on his nape. “Show me then.”

Hobie laughs, a hearty chuckle that you could feel reverberate through his chest as he carries you over to the bedroom and shuts the door closed with his foot. It’ll be a long and warm morning for the two of you.

Hobie spots you outside in the backyard after he’s been looking for you for the past twenty minutes. At first he had his eyes on you the whole night, waiting for Yuri and the rest of the band to leave you two alone so he could hold your hand behind their backs. But the moment he took his eyes off you to talk to a friend, he glanced back only to find you nowhere to be seen.

Hobie doesn’t like hiding his relationship with you from his mates, he’d rather scream to the whole world that you’re his and he’s yours but alas, Yuri will beat his ass for dating her best mate since kindergarten. When she specifically told everyone that you’re off limits, in her words, “she deserves a decent lad that will make her happy and not a bunch of punk rockers that will break her heart.” To that he agreed to, you deserve to be happy, but not the latter, he would never break your heart. He has fallen too hard for you to even think of doing that to you.

It’s not like you obeyed Yuri’s words either, you liked Hobie back wholeheartedly, embraced the prospect of dating him. From the first lingering touch alone through every hangout, to the stolen glances across the room, you took all the signs and went with it by asking him out yourself. Your reason? If Yuri ever found out, or the day finally comes when you have to tell her all about the two of you, she can’t blame him, not fully anyway when you’re the one who made the first move.

It was a ballsy move, and honestly? It made him fancy you even more. And now, six months into dating, countless date nights where you two had to go across town just to have dinner or walk around the park, and a lot of kisses— Hobie is fully committed to you, and you’re committed to him.

He doesn’t have the guts just yet to tell Yuri that the lacy underwear she found in his houseboat was yours, or that the extra toothbrush in your flat right beside your own wasn’t an old toothbrush that you use to clean the toilet but it’s his. Yuri has become hyper vigilant ever since she saw a sock underneath your couch that was clearly not yours. She thinks you’re hiding a new man from her, and she really wants to meet him to be the judge of his character. But she doesn’t know that she already met the guy and is in the same band as hers.

Yuri’s been pestering you about it, whilst Ned and James want to hear about the mystery girl Hobie’s been having around the houseboat. One time they went to his place to write some songs together whilst you two were snogging on his bed and you had to hide inside his bedroom for three hours. Your bladder was about to burst when they finally left. You couldn’t just leave through the windows either when you’ll fall into the canal and then they’d definitely know what’s up when they see you swimming around in the dirty river in your underwear.

Hobie’s about to come outside to see you when Yuri calls his name from the makeshift bar on the kitchen island.

“Oi, flat arse!” She yells above the noise of the party as she holds up a plate of biscuits and half a sandwich cut into a triangle. “Have you seen our girl?”

“No,” he shakes his head, shuffling over to the glass door to hide you. “Why?”

“Can you find her for me? She said she’s starving and this is the only edible food in this place.”

“Sure.” Taking the plate, Hobie has an intense urge to go out and sprint towards the nearest shop to get you something more filling.

“Oi, fuckwad! Order us a pizza or something! Use your parents’ card!” Yuri screams for James.

James, who’s rudely interrupted by Yuri as he was about to kiss a blonde, glares right at her. “You fucking order it!” The card flew over the crowd when he tossed it.

Hobie catches a glimpse of Yuri fighting with a bloke when he caught it before her.

“It’s not yours, you cu—!”

The glass door is shut right behind him, muffling the ruckus inside.

You’re a sight to behold beside the pool. The rainbow lights illuminate your features, as your half lidded eyes catch the light. Your dress is hitched up, pooled around you beautifully, framing you as you smile wistfully at the water as your feet kick gently in it.

You feel him before you hear the thumping of his boots. “You better not push me in, Hobie.” Tilting your head over to him, your cheek presses against your shoulder as you smile sweetly up at him.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, lovie. I could get you wet without needin’ to push you into a pool.”

“Oh, you’re so charming.” Chuckling, the sound of your laugh is a balm to his soul. “What do you have there?”

“Half a sandwich and biscuits Yuri got for you.”

“Oh, thank fuck.” Your hands reach up over to him as the plate is handed over to you. “Please don’t be peanut butter and jelly—” you take a peek inside the sandwich. “Yes.”

“What is it?” Hobie sits beside you, folding his leg as he folds the hem of his trousers before taking off his boots.

“It’s mayo and pepperoni.” Taking a big bite, you offer it to him. “You want some?”

He makes a face, taking a sugar coated biscuit instead. “‘m good, love.”

Shrugging, you inhale the rest of the sandwich. “It wasn’t the best but Yuri did her best.”

“If I’d have known you were hungry I would’ve run to the shop and gotten you somethin’.”

“And what would you have gotten me?” Your eyes sparkle as you flutter your lashes and take a biscuit from the plate sitting in between you.

“Anythin’ you want. Anythin’ under fifteen quid that is.”

Hobie always loved the way your grin spreads across your face, lightening up his whole world.

“A whole fifteen, oh you spoil me, baby.” It takes you two big bites of the biscuit before gently pushing the plate away to scooch over to him closer. Hobie’s arm immediately wraps around you, tugging you to his side as he rests his chin atop your head. “I want to get out of here and make out with you in the houseboat.”

“Why wait?” His fingers squeeze at your side, tickling you slightly as he breathes you in, a combination of your sweet perfume and the pool chlorine wafting from the water. Hobie was only half joking, until you gaze at him with those familiar soft eyes that spell out ‘bedroom’ for him.

“You are insufferable.” With a giggle, you splash him with water with your foot.

Hobie laughs with you, trousers damp but it was worth it to see the playful smile on your lips that he keeps gazing at.

“But you’re right.” You shrug, that look he knows as your, ‘fuck it,’ expression as he watches you lift your leg out of the water and over his lap. One second you were beside him, the next you’re straddling his lap, shuffling to find a more comfortable position as your heels tap at the small of his back. “There, much better.”

Fuck, you’re going to kill him someday.

“Bloody hell, lovie.” Hobie’s breathless from that alone. His hands move to hold at your waist as you wiggle teasingly that has his breathing going shallow and his skin aflame. His lips are immediately on yours, kissing fervently, feeling how you smile through the kiss before completely melting under his touch. “You’re,” his tongue flicks in between your parted lips as you let out a breath. “Goin’,” your hips buckle, and his grip tightens around you, fingers digging into your skin as your dress pools around the two of you. “To kill me.”

“Only if I can come with you.” Giggling, your palm finds his hair, tugging him away, making him tilt his head back as you kiss the hinge of his jaw, feeling how he shivers under your touch.

Hobie’s rough palms glide along your back, panting, eyes half lidded and staring up at the starry sky that melts in his vision from your warm kisses. “Yeah, like…” his words flicker out of his mind when you nibble at his throat. “Romeo and Juliet— fuck me.”

“Trying to, Hobie.” Chuckling over his skin, feeling how he trembles underneath you just from a few kisses, well more than a few kisses. Still, he’s completely undone, chasing your lips, chasing the warm sensation as his fingers grip at your nape.

It’s his turn as he pulls your head back gently, granting him access to your neck as he wets his lips before digging in.

“Hobie, d’you have cash for—” Yuri stops in her tracks, coins dropping from her hand as she stares dumbfoundly at the scene before her.

“Yuri, what’s taking so long— holy fucking shit.” James guffaws, a hand slapping at his mouth immediately as Yuri grabs him. “Yuri, come on…” his voice is muffled and warbled by her hands gripping onto his pouted lips.

“Have you two seen— oh…” Ned almost stumbles into the two, eyes wide at how Hobie’s nibbling at your neck and how you’re smiling happily through the kiss. “Oh! We should, uh, go, lads…”

Ned tries to grab Yuri by her arm, knowing that she’s silently seething in place. But it seems that her anger is something else as she stomps over to the smooching pair, who are too entranced by each other to notice the stares.

“I’m going to push them in!”

“Yuri, don’t!”