#herodoc

— We have to go trick-or-treating with the kids, but a little party of our own is a cool idea.

— Yeah — he muttered.

Henrik searched for homemade costumes on pinterest.

— I wanted to change this year — he laid down on his boyfriend's lap — I've always dressed up as a mad scientist, but it's saturated, you know? What do you think I could go?

— I could lend you my JBM uniform.

— Could be… I don't know. I wanted something different.

The hero stared at him, stroking his gray hair idly. An idea popped into his mind and he couldn't contain his laughter.

— What are you laughing at?

— You… you could go… — he took a deep breath — as a catboy.

Schneep stood up quickly, eyes wide and brows slightly furrowed. He was the master of involuntary grimaces.

— CATBOY? — Jackie laughed more — CATBOY, JACKIE? THIS IS SOMETHING ANTI WOULD DRESS UP!

— But… but Henny… you would look sexy, you know?… With a tail, ears, fishnets…

— SEXUALIZATION! SEXUALIZATION OF A TRANSGENDER MAN'S BODY! — the hero's face was red with laughter, the doctor's with embarrassment — honestly, Jackie… I expected more from you…

— Oh, Henny, it was just an idea — he took one last deep breath, resting his wide hand on Henrik's white thigh — by the way, if you were a catboy, I could even give you a treat at the end of the night, you know, one last trick… I heard that cats really like hot milk…

— YOU ARE AWFUL!

                                                       *****

The rest of the car ride to the unknown location was full of Jackie singing to cheesy pop songs and brief conversations. Reaching the location however...

Henrik knit his eyebrows together. “A roller... rink? Jackie, I cannot skate.”

“Then I’ll teach you! C’mon!” The hero said, shoving open the car door and hopping out before slamming it shut.

He’s cautious about the whole idea of skating, but then again the coffee shop had been his idea of a date last time. Well, date is a strong word for whatever the hell that had been.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’d never do this for anyone else—maybe Chase or his children. He just didn't want to disappoint Jackie. He’s so excited about this date that Henrik thinks it might actually tear his heart in two to refuse him. He normally put his foot down with other partners’ ideas of dates. What is wrong with him?

                                                       *****

After entering and getting admitted to enter the rink by a woman at the front desk (who knew Jackie somehow), they went to get their skates. If he hadn’t been wary already, the nightmare of trying to figure out his skate size was enough to heighten it. He had to try three pairs!

Henrik sat down at the small booth Jackie had commandeered and pulled a foot up to slip them into a skate. He laced up his roller skates tight with shaking fingers and double knotted them.

“Why are we strapping tiny wheels to our feet? It’s counterproductive!” He complained.

“Because it’s fun! C’mon, give it a try! Pleeeeeeeease?” His date pulled the puppy dog eyes. Oh dear, anything but the puppy eyes.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, fine, fine!”

The excited smile lit up Jackie’s whole face. Nobody had a right to be that adorable.

He set his feet down on the checkerboard tiles, watching the wheels immediately try to slip out from under him. He gripped the table and dragged himself up, steadying himself when he slid.

Skates are deceptively heavy. They’re tighter than normal shoes and the bulky wheels make moving difficult.

He attempted to lift a foot. Henrik quickly decided it’s a bad idea and put it back down.

“Uh... how do I…” he muttered under his breath, staring at his shoes. He tried to shift his feet forward. “Oh, oh, Jackie! Help,” he squawked as he pitched forward.

The other caught him. “We’re not even in the rink yet!” He laughed.

He could feel his cheeks heat up. He hid his face in one of his hands.

“Here, I’ll help you to the rink.”

He’d be more embarrassed about needing help but Henrik had already decided he quite liked the way their fingers linked together. Unfortunately the thought made his face hot. 

Ugh, I am like a hormonal teenager.

Skates clattered against the hardwood rink, sending Henrik flailing in a panic, arms pinwheeling. For a heart lurching moment, he thought he was going to fall back until Jackie grabbed his shoulders, righting his posture.

“Careful there—it hurts to fall,” he warned.

Henrik flushed. “How can I be careful with my shoes trying to sabotage me!?”

His outburst only made Jackie laugh. He reached over to swat at the other only to slip and nearly fall, clutching onto the stone wall for dear life. His face felt hotter than before.

Jackie laughed harder.

“C’mon, Hen. I’ll help you out,” Jackie offered, extending his hand.

Henrik grabbed onto his hand and squeezed it fearfully. “Please, don’t let me fall.” The mischief in the hero’s eyes didn’t soothe his worries.

“Here, I’ll go slow. Watch my feet and try—”

Henrik swore—quite loudly—as he fell. At least the shorter man had the decency to wince.

Falling didn’t hurt as much as he originally thought but he still didn’t like it. He’d landed on his knees and the impact zone and all around it throbbed. It’s more surprising and embarrassing than painful.

“You good?”

“I… I think so?”

Jackie hauled him up with ease and steadied him as his legs shook. He gave him a moment to shake off his surprise before slowly continuing around the rink.

“Watch my feet and copy the movements.”

The doctor couldn’t help but notice how one foot went outwards and then the other. That must be how he gained speed. He furrowed his brow and tried to mimic the motion. He ended up in a half split with one leg behind him and on a knee. Henrik let out a pained wheeze.

“Hol-holy shit,” Jackie choked out, shoulders shaking.

“Stop! Shut it!” He snapped, face red. He tried to get up but his foot slid out again. Henrik gripped Jackie’s upper arms in a death grip as he dragged himself up. Jackie made it seem so graceful, but when he attempted it he looked like a drunk moose.

After another four humiliating minutes, they finally made it around the rink once. The second lap went about as poorly as the first. The third lap is when there was change.

“Here—try this one on your own.” Henrik opened his mouth to protest but Jackie cut him off. “I’ll be right behind you—don’t worry.” The hands on his arms disappeared and Jackie stopped. “Go on.”

He held onto the wall and scooted along cautiously. Sneaking a peek back, he saw Jackie snickering. He glared before turning back to his task.

It was slow. Every ten or so seconds, he’d nearly fall, and every few minutes he'd fall and earn a couple new bruises if Jackie couldn't catch him in time. Eventually he'd made his way around the rink a couple of times with Jackie lingering beside him.

“See? You're doing pretty well!”

It’s clear it’s not true but he preened a bit at the praise anyway.

Then the lights turned off.

He jolted and yelped, skates rolling and sending him falling. Jackie's hand was on his wrist and his potentially painful tumble is halted when he's pulled up.

“Woah, that could've been bad.”

Heart in his throat, Henrik can only nod.

The music came to a halt and a voice came over the PA system. “Alrighty everyone, it’s time for couples skating. Get out on the rink and skate to some romantic slow songs.”

The music started up again but this time it’s some cheesy slow song Henrik didn’t recognize.

Jackie made an exaggerated bow and offered his hand. “May I?”

He snorted and took it. “Dummkopf.”

“I don’t know what that means but I’ll take it,” the hero said. Henrik laughed.

The two stayed hand in hand for a while, skating slowly and chatting.

“So… what d’ya think of skating?” Jackie tried.

He paused. “It’s… interesting. I prefer walking but is not so bad after the first thirty minutes. I’d be willing to try it again.”

Jackie grinned. “I toldja it’s fun.” 

He chose to ignore that statement, making Jackie snort.

“The lady at the front desk seems to know you pretty well. Do you skate here often?” He asked after a brief moment of silence.

“Yeah, I used to come here a few times a week before Marv moved in with me. I come here less but I’m still on the team.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Team?”

“Yeah, there’s both a women’s and men’s derby team in town. I’m the pivot on the team.” He seemed proud of the statement.

“Ah,” he said, realizing what team Jackie was talking about. “Pivot is leader, yes?”

“Yeah, basically! I get to call plays and stuff! You only know ‘cause of Chase, right?”

He nodded. “He may miss a lot of practices and games but he really likes playing.”

Jackie nods, opens his mouth to say something but—

The next things happen in quick succession.

Jackie slips, pulling Henrik down with him. The other—not strong enough to keep Jackie from falling—falls on top of Jackie. He practically combusts in embarrassment at their position. Their faces are too close for comfort. One of his legs is between Jackie’s and his arms on either side of his head are the only thing keeping him from kissing him.

Wait, what?

And yet, Jackie takes it all in stride and laughs breathlessly. “Hey.”

“Hi,” he replies, dumbstruck by the other's utter disregard of the situation.

Now that he's so close to Jackie, he can properly see him. His eyes seem to glow in the dark and they’re shockingly—almost inhumanly—blue. (Like the electric kind, his mind supplies unhelpfully.) He has this bright grin on his face and he looks so damn happy, still giggling at their fall. He can't help but let his eyes flick down to his lips and wonder what it'd be like to kiss him.

“Hey, Earth to Henrik. Are we gonna get up or…?”

Henrik snaps back to reality, meeting Jackie's eyes.

“Ah, yes, just let me—”

He really wanted to kiss him before he got back up—a peck on the lips would do. He stifles the urge, and he crawls off Jackie, struggling to get to his feet.

“Are you hungry?” Jackie asked suddenly. “They have the best food here!”

Any trace of awkwardness the scenario caused vanished. 

Henrik smiled. “I could eat.”

He found himself hoping that this kind of thing would happen often. Specifically the part of seeing Jackie laugh and smile without a care in the world.

— I'm… I'm fine… — He coughed some more, covering his mouth. He took a deep breath, putting his hand on his chest, coughing one last time — why do you want to know?

— Curiosity — he shrugged, resting his chin on his hand again — you always talk about him…

Schneep thought for a moment, studying the barista in front of him, his brown hair was pulled back in a braid and the green streaks were starting to fade; it looked as if he had been made for the environment, with its characteristic coffee smell and special icing designs for the doctor.

Well, it didn't hurt to talk… right? He was a 35-year-old man and he knew how to resolve issues like an adult: if something went wrong, he'd run off to the coffee shop across the street — not that the coffee there was as good as Jackie's...

He opened his mouth to speak, but it was as if he'd been choking on his own saliva. The barista was ready to help him again until he himself signaled that it was just a scare.

A humiliating scare. He was 35 years old and couldn't declare himself to the man he liked.

He stared into the wide brown eyes before him, intent, and sighed. Either he spoke or he wasn't called Henrik Von Schneeplestein.

— Okay, Jackie, I'm a disgrace and I can't speak, so follow my logic: I go to three places, right? Hospital — he started enumerating on his fingers — which is where I work, cafeteria, where I go every late afternoon, and the public library I go to on weekends.

— Your life is more boring than I imagined.

— Fuck you. Anyway — a little smirk crept across Jackie's face and he nearly melted right there — it's not a coworker or anyone in the library.

— …OK.

— Think with me, Jackie: who's the only person in the cafeteria that I constantly talk to? That I don't measure efforts to talk? — His voice cracked more and more as he spoke, and he already regretted opening his mouth —… who's the only barista who takes my orders?

Henrik went back to drinking his cappuccino, swinging his left leg. He could almost hear the gears in the barista's brain turning, connecting the pieces, as his brows arched higher and higher.

— …Is it me?

He pressed his lips together, putting the cup on the table and nodding. Jackie smiled, pushing the empty cup away and leaning against the counter, standing inches from his red face.

The hero nodded, barely shaking his head. Schneep arched his brows, sharing his sadness. He brushed the disheveled hair from his dirt-and-blood-stained forehead, kissing him.

— I'm sorry, my hero, you know it's not out of spite, I worry a lot about you — he kissed his cheek now, caressing the other with his thumb — I know you don't like this house, but it's only temporary! In a few weeks we'll be moving to a much quieter place, don't worry!

Jackie did his best to smile, but the frown and wide eyes showed his desperation. Moving day approached closer and closer, fast and stealthy, like a wildfire cornering a helpless jaguar. He was so close! He almost made it! If… if he moved, he'd never have a chance like that again!