#deep fluff

The fluorescent lights of Vought Tower's marine research wing hummed with their characteristic sterile buzz, a sound that had become as familiar to you as your own heartbeat over the past eight months. You were bent over a stainless steel examination table, your brow furrowed in concentration as you carefully documented the tissue samples from a rescued harbor seal that had been found entangled in fishing nets off the coast of Maine.

Your lab coat was slightly too big, the sleeves rolled up to your elbows to reveal the delicate silver bracelet your grandmother had given you. Your hair was pulled back in a messy but functional ponytail, a few stubborn strands escaping to frame your face. You were so absorbed in your work that you didn't hear the distinctive wet footsteps approaching from behind.

"Whatcha doin'?"

The voice was impossibly close, right next to your ear, and you startled so violently that your pen went skittering across the table. You spun around, hand pressed to your chest, to find Kevin Moskowitz—The Deep—standing approximately three inches from your personal space, his head tilted at that particular angle that made him look like a confused golden retriever.

"Kevin!" You laughed, the sound genuine and warm despite your racing heart. "You scared me half to death. I thought I locked that door."

"I have a key, remember?" he said, dangling the key in his hand before putting it on the desk. His voice had that particular quality it always got around you: slightly higher pitched, slightly breathless, like he was perpetually on the verge of saying something important and forgetting what it was.

"Of course you do," you said, shaking your head with an affectionate smile. "Because knocking on the door like a normal person is apparently beneath you."

Kevin's face split into that goofy, wide grin that made him look approximately twelve years old, despite being a grown man in his thirties. His eyes, those big, earnest, eyes, were fixed on you with an intensity that would have been unsettling coming from anyone else.

"I wanted to see you," he said simply, as if that explained everything. "I was talking to the fish on my room's tank and they said you were down here working late again and I thought- I thought maybe you'd want company? I can be good company. I'm excellent company, actually. I've been told I'm like, top-tier company. Right up there with, you know, penguins. Penguins are great company. Very social creatures. Not that I'm comparing myself to penguins, because I'm obviously a human, but also-" He was rambling now, his words tumbling out faster and faster as he seemed to realize he was making no sense. "I brought you something."

He held out his hand, and you noticed for the first time that he was clutching something in his palm. It was a small, perfect scallop shell, its surface gleaming with an iridescent sheen that caught the fluorescent light and scattered it into rainbows.

"Oh, Kevin!" you breathed, reaching out to take it from him. Your fingers brushed against his, and you watched with fascination as a visible shiver ran through his entire body. "It's beautiful. Where did you get this?"

"Found it," he said, puffing up slightly with pride. "Down in the deep part. The really deep part. Like, deep deep. Where it's all dark and creepy and stuff. I was talking to some anglerfish, they're honestly such gossips, you wouldn't believe, and I saw it just sitting there on the ocean floor and I thought of you."

"You thought of me?" you repeated, turning the shell over in your hands. It really was exquisite, the ridges perfectly formed, the colors shifting from pearl to lavender to deep rose.

"Yeah," he said, and there was something almost vulnerable in his voice now. "I kinda always think of you when I see these type of things, like- pretty things, i mean."

Your heart did a little flutter. It was such a sincere, uncalculated compliment, the kind Kevin gave without even seeming to realize he was giving it. In the months since you'd been assigned to Vought's marine research division, you'd grown increasingly fond of the strange, awkward, deeply insecure man who seemed to have latched onto you with the desperate intensity of a barnacle.

"I'll treasure it," you said, and meant it. "Thank you, Kevin. That's really sweet."

He beamed at you, practically vibrating with pleasure at your approval. Then, as if unable to help himself, he stepped even closer, his body angling toward yours in a way that was almost, but not quite, invasive.

"You know," he said, lowering his voice conspiratorially, "I could show you where I found it sometime. Take you down there. It's really beautiful once your eyes adjust to the dark. And I'd keep you safe, obviously. Nothing would hurt you while I'm around. I'd make sure of it. I'd—I'd protect you from everything. Every shark, every giant squid, every-"

"Kevin." you interrupted gently, touching his arm. "That's very sweet, but I'm perfectly happy staying on dry land, thank you. I prefer my marine life safely on the other side of glass."

"Oh," he said, deflating slightly. "Right. Of course. That makes sense. You're a scientist. You like, you know, studying things. Not being in them. In the water, I mean. Not—not being in things. That came out wrong. I meant-"

"I know what you meant, Kevin." you said, laughing again. God, he was ridiculous. Absolutely, completely, utterly ridiculous. And somehow, impossibly endearing.

"You're laughing at me." he said, but there was no accusation in it. If anything, he seemed pleased, as if your laughter was some precious gift he'd managed to earn.

"A little bit," you admitted. "But in a good way. You're just—you're very.. you, Kevin. I like that."

His entire face transformed. It was like watching someone step into sunlight after years in the dark. His eyes went wide, his mouth dropped open slightly, and a deep flush crept up his neck and into his cheeks.

"You like that?" he repeated, his voice cracking on the last word. "You like—you like me?"

"of course I like you, Kevin." you confirmed. "You're one of my favorite people here. You always make me smile."

He made a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, and for a terrifying moment, you thought he might actually cry. His eyes were definitely glistening, and his hands were twitching at his sides like he wanted to reach for you but didn't quite dare.

"I-" He swallowed hard. "That's—that's really nice. That's really, really nice. You're really nice. You're the nicest person I've ever met. Like, ever. In my whole life. And I've met a lot of people. Some of them were even nice. But not like you. You're like—you're like a sea otter. But prettier. And with better hair. Not that sea otters don't have good hair, they're actually very well-groomed creatures, very meticulous, very-"

"Kevin," you said, gently cutting off his ramble. "Do you want to help me finish cataloging these samples? I could use an extra pair of hands."

"yes!" he said, so quickly and loudly that you actually startled back a step. "I mean- yes. I would love to. Help you. With the things. The—the marine things. That you're doing. With your hands. And your—your brain. Your very smart, very beautiful brain."

He was practically vibrating with barely contained excitement as he scrambled to your side, positioning himself so close that his shoulder brushed against yours every time he moved. He didn't seem to notice (or if he did, he didn't care) and you found yourself smiling down at the top of his head as he peered intently at the samples you'd been working on.

"So these are from the seal?" he asked, his voice taking on a more focused quality. "The one with the net stuff?"

"The one with the net stuff," you confirmed, handing him a pair of gloves. "I'm trying to determine if there's any long-term tissue damage from the entanglement. If the necrosis has spread too far, we might need to-"

"Amputate the flipper," he finished, nodding sagely. "Yeah, I saw that once. Really sad. The seal was really sad. But then it got a cool prosthetic and it was really happy again. It was on a TV show. A nature show. With Morgan Freeman narrating. His voice is so calm. Do you think my voice is calm? I've been trying to make it calmer. More soothing. Like ocean waves. You know, 'whoosh, whoosh.'"

"Your voice is perfect," you chuckled absently, reaching for a pipette. "Don't change a thing."

Kevin went very, very still. When you glanced up, he was staring at you with an expression of such naked adoration that you nearly dropped the pipette.

"I-" he started, then stopped. Swallowed. Started again. "My voice is- you think my voice is-?"

"Perfect," you repeated, smiling at him. "Now hand me that scalpel, would you?"

He handed you the scalpel with shaking hands, and if you'd been paying closer attention, you might have noticed the way he watched your fingers curl around the handle, the way his breath caught in his throat, the way his entire body leaned unconsciously toward yours like a flower turning toward the sun.

But you were focused on your work, and Kevin was content, more than content, ecstatic, to simply bask in your presence, absorbing every detail of you like a sponge in water.

Two weeks later, you found yourself in a different section of the marine research wing, this time working with a consultant from the Oceanographic Institute named Dr. Marcus Webb. He was tall, conventionally handsome, with the kind of easy confidence that came from years of being the smartest person in every room he entered.

He was also, as Kevin had noticed with growing horror, very, very interested in you.

You'd been working together on a project about deep-sea thermal vent ecosystems, a subject you were genuinely passionate about, and Marcus had been impressively knowledgeable and engaging. He'd made you laugh several times and had suggested getting coffee together to "continue the discussion."

None of this escaped Kevin's notice.

He'd been watching from the hallway, he looked like a child looking into a candy store, except instead of candy, the thing he desperately wanted was you. He'd come to find you to show you a particularly interesting piece of coral he'd discovered, only to find you laughing at something Marcus Webb had said.

Something ugly and primal clawed its way up Kevin's throat. It was jealousy. Hot, acidic, all-consuming, and it made him want to do things that would probably get him in a lot of trouble with Homelander and Vought's PR department.

But he couldn't just leave. Leaving meant letting Marcus Webb have unfettered access to you, and that was simply unacceptable. So Kevin did what any reasonable, well-adjusted adult would do in his situation:

He went to find you and insert himself into the conversation.

"Hey!" he called out, his voice carrying that particular whiny quality it always got when he was feeling insecure. "Hey, you! My favorite marine biologist! The prettiest one!"

You looked up, and your face lit up in that warm, genuine smile that made Kevin's knees feel weak. "Kevin! I didn't know you were here."

"I'm always here." he said, and immediately cringed at how desperate that sounded. "I mean- I'm here a lot. Because I like it here. Because of the—the water. And the marine life. And the-" He gestured vaguely in your direction. "And stuff."

Marcus looked at Kevin with the kind of tolerant amusement that made Kevin's blood boil. "The Deep, right? I've seen you on TV. You're the one who talks to fish."

"I don't just talk to them." Kevin said, bristling. "I commune with them. It's a profound connection. Much more significant than—than whatever you're doing, which is probably just, you know, reading about them in books or whatever. Like a normal person. Who doesn't have superpowers. Which is fine. It's totally fine. Nothing wrong with being normal."

"Kevin," you said gently, and just the sound of your voice was enough to soothe some of his frayed edges. "Dr. Webb is actually one of the leading experts on deep-sea thermal vent ecosystems. He's been incredibly helpful with my research."

"l bet he has." Kevin muttered under his breath, then immediately regretted it when you shot him a questioning look.

"Did you need something, Kevin?" you asked, and there was no frustration in your voice,just patience, that infinite patience you seemed to have for him and his particular brand of ridiculousness.

"I-" He'd forgotten. What had he wanted? Something important. Something he needed to show you. Something- "Oh! The coral! I found this amazing coral. It's bioluminescent, and it's really, really beautiful, and I thought you'd want to see it because you like beautiful things, and you like marine things, and you're beautiful, and-" He was rambling again, he could hear himself rambling, but he couldn't seem to stop. "I mean, obviously you're not a marine thing, you're a human thing, a very pretty human thing, but you also like marine things, and this is a marine thing, so I thought you'd like-"

"Show me," you said, cutting through his ramble with a warm smile. "I'd love to see it."

You turned to Marcus Webb with a pleasant expression. "I'm sorry, Dr. Webb, but I'm going to have to take a rain check on that coffee. Maybe another time?"

Something bright and triumphant flared in Kevin's chest. You'd turned down Marcus Webb. For him. For him.

"Of course," Marcus said smoothly, but Kevin could see the flash of irritation in his eyes. "Perhaps we could schedule something for next week? I'd love to continue our discussion about the chemosynthetic bacteria."

"We'll see." you said diplomatically, and Kevin had to physically stop himself from doing a victory dance right there right then.

The moment Marcus Webb was out of earshot, Kevin practically collapsed toward you, his voice dropping into a desperate whine. "I don't like him."

"Who, Dr. Webb?" You looked genuinely confused. "He seems perfectly nice."

"He's not nice." Kevin insisted in a hiss, following you like a lost puppy as you gathered your things. "He's- he's got a smug face. And he was looking at you weird. And he touched your arm. I saw him. He touched your arm like three times. That's- that's excessive. That's inappropriate workplace touching. I should report him to HR."

You laughed, and Kevin's heart did that weird flip-flop thing it always did when you laughed. "Kevin, he was just being friendly. He touched my arm twice, and I think one of those times was an accident."

"It wasn't an accident." Kevin grumbled. "It was deliberate. Premeditated. He's got a plan. I know his type. He's one of those—those smooth guys who thinks he can just waltz in and—and—" He couldn't finish the sentence. Couldn't bring himself to articulate the fear that had been gnawing at him since he'd seen you laughing with another man.

"Kevin." Your voice was soft, and when he looked up, you were watching him with that gentle, understanding expression that made him feel both completely seen and completely exposed. "Are you jealous?"

"No." he said immediately. "No, I'm not- why would I- I'm not jealous. That's ridiculous. I'm not jealous. I'm just- I'm observant. I notice things. That's all. It's a- a marine thing. Marine creatures notice patterns. It's how we survive. Not that I'm a marine creature. Obviously I'm a human. Mostly. Technically. According to my birth certificate."

"So you are jealous." you repeated, humming.

Kevin deflated like a punctured balloon. "Tch- well, maybe." he admitted in a small voice. "A little. But only because- because he was touching you, and you were laughing, and you looked so pretty when you were laughing, and I wanted to be the one making you laugh, but he was making you laugh, and that's supposed to be my job-"

"Kevin." You stepped closer to him, close enough that he could smell your perfume, something floral and sweet that made his brain go fuzzy. "You make me laugh all the time. You make me smile every single day. You're my favorite person in this entire building, and probably in the whole city."

"Really?" His voice cracked on the word.

"Really." you confirmed. "Now stop being jealous of Dr. Webb and show me this coral you found. I'm genuinely curious."

Kevin nodded, his expression shifting from desperate jealousy to eager puppy in approximately point-three seconds. "It's this way. Come on. It's really amazing. It's got these little tentacles that light up, and when I touched it, it changed colors, which I thought was really cool and you'd probably have a scientific explanation for it because you're so smart-"

He was babbling again, but you didn't seem to mind. You just smiled and followed him, letting him take your hand- oh god, you'd let him take your hand, and lead you through the winding corridors of Vought Tower toward the bioluminescent coral he'd discovered.

Kevin's heart was pounding so hard he was certain you could feel it through his palm, but he didn't let go. He would never let go, he decided. He was going to hold your hand forever, and if anyone tried to take you away from him, he would- he would-

He didn't know what he would do. But it would be impressive, he decided. He would do something very impressive and heroic, and you would look at him with that warm, admiring expression, and he would finally feel like he'd earned the right to bask in your presence.

"You're staring." you said, and Kevin realized with a jolt that he'd been staring at you for the past thirty seconds.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "I was just- you're really pretty when the light hits your hair like that. Actually, you're pretty all the time."

"Do you ever run out of things to say?" you asked, but you were smiling, so Kevin counted it as a win.

"Not really," he admitted. "My brain just kind of… goes. Especially when I'm around you. It's like all these thoughts just start happening, and they all want to come out at once, and it's really hard to filter them, which is why I probably sound really stupid a lot of the time, and I'm sorry about that, I just-"

"I don't think you sound stupid," you interrupted gently. "I think you sound like someone who cares deeply about things. That's not a bad thing, Kevin. It's actually quite endearing."

Kevin made a sound that was somewhere between a squeak and a whimper. "Endearing?"

"Very." you confirmed.

And just like that, every ounce of jealousy he'd felt toward Marcus Webb evaporated, replaced by a warm, glowing certainty that you were his, and he was yours, and nothing and no one in the world was ever going to change that.