Page 30 of The Not So Super Hero

Bailey turned to request Zane to make a doctor’s appointment, but his words came out as a surprised squeak instead.

Zane stood still in the bathroom doorway for a moment with a pair of boxers on.

Bailey’s eyes sure as hell weren’t on Zane’s face.

They were quickly taking in everything else, like how the boxers clung to his damp thighs.

He was more toned than Bailey expected. Not that he ever thought about Zane’s naked thighs.

Bailey needed a shower too…a freezing one.

A damp towel falling on his head stole the view.

Bailey yelped. He stumbled from left to right, then rammed into the counter as he struggled to get the towel off his head.

When he finally did, he saw Zane had on a pair of sweats and was making himself comfortable in his bed.

Bailey kind of hated himself for being a bit saddened by the sweats.

Why was his mind in the gutter again? It needed to clean itself up because now was not the time!

Shaking his head, Bailey focused back on the tomato soup and grilled cheese he was making. It was the only thing he could find in Zane’s apartment other than beer and pizza. As much as he didn’t mind the idea of pizza, he felt Zane would do better with some soup.

“Are you hungry?” Bailey asked.

Zane shrugged. He turned on the TV, seeming to not care what was on because he didn’t bother with the volume or the channel.

The man had cleaned himself up, hair pulled back into a ponytail, no longer matted or in chaos.

The blood was gone like it wasn’t there in the first place, but sadly, his eyes were still red.

From time to time, Bailey caught Zane closing his eyes, blinking or squinting like they were bothering him, but he never complained or said a word about it.

With everything made, Bailey carefully worked his way over to Zane, who eyed the boy as if he expected something terrible to happen. A miracle blessed Bailey that day because he made it safely to Zane’s side with their food. Even Zane seemed shocked as he took his food and sat it in his lap.

“If you spill soup on my bed…” Zane warned until he saw Bailey had taken a seat on the floor, sitting his food on the coffee table instead.

“I’m going to eat here to be safe,” Bailey snickered.

Over his shoulder, Zane wore a grin. Bailey beamed brighter than the sun.

But then Zane looked away and quickly wiped the expression from his face.

Bailey had seen it though, and he was determined to get that smile back.

How he was going to do that was another story, but it was the thought that counted.

The two ate in an oddly comfortable, yet somehow still uncomfortable, silence. It was a hell of a lot better than he expected, though. Bailey had expected more of a fight, but perhaps Zane really was as exhausted as Bailey feared him to be.

Bailey’s studies had taught him that mutants couldn’t stop using their powers, then use them again without facing the consequences.

It was a lot like working out. If you didn’t go to the gym, eventually your muscles faded, and you were sore and weak.

Mutations were similar; you didn’t use your abilities and after a while your strength faded so when you tried again the after effects could be disastrous.

It was clear Zane had gone through some of those after effects.

“You really should go to the hospital,” Bailey said, biting his lip at the annoyed groan that immediately followed.

“I’m fine.”

“Something could be wrong,. How long were you bleeding? What if there’s some internal damage?”

Zane got out of his bed, growling, as he made his way to the sink. “I’m not going to a fucking hospital.”

“Then the doctors?”

“If you’re going to keep this up, then leave,” Zane ordered, dropping his bowl into the sink only for the thing to shatter. The man cursed and threw the plate in next, which did the same as the bowl but Zane didn’t seem to care.

Bailey would have kept arguing, but he found Zane’s demeanor to be peculiar. It seemed he didn’t mind being looked after or even acknowledging something was wrong. It was the hospital or the idea of doctors that put him on edge. His body shivered at the mention of ‘doctor’, so Bailey dropped it.

Getting up, Bailey made his way over to Zane, who had his hands gripping the edge of the sink. He stared at the broken glass like that would help fix it. Though his glare quickly disappeared, a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind.

Zane froze when he felt Bailey’s chest against his back.

Bailey pressed his forehead into the top of Zane’s spine.

He hugged Zane tight, breathing his next words out against Zane’s back, “Thank you. I imagine you never wanted to do that yesterday, but you protected me regardless. You saved my life twice now.”

Bailey felt Zane’s heartbeat beneath his hands.

He felt it pick up its pace, and it only proved to him more that he was correct.

Zane really had stayed behind that day. He was the one who threw that car.

It made Bailey smile as he felt the courage to go on.

“I’m grateful for what you’ve done, and I hope you know how great you really are, Zane.

Most people wouldn’t have even dreamed of doing what you did.

You deserve all the praise in the world. ”

Zane shivered, not like he was cold but as if he was controlling himself.

His heart beat so fast that Bailey could feel it against the palms of his hands.

Zane didn’t push Bailey away, didn’t brush him off or return the gesture, but Bailey took a chance.

He leaned up to peer over Zane’s shoulder and what he found was a smile, tender. It suited him.

Zane was stumped, speechless. Even if Bailey’s words meant the world to him, he couldn’t reply. Based on Bailey’s continuous smile, that wasn’t a problem. As if Bailey could be anything other than a bag of sunshine and rainbows. Zane envied how Bailey shined through the darkest of moments.

Bottom lip trapped between his teeth, Zane pushed Bailey away.

He dropped his hands and took a step back.

Zane turned around, rubbing the back of his neck while looking to the floor rather than Bailey.

He couldn’t bear to see the guys’ expression, likely something cheesy that would have Zane’s insides turning to goo.

Since Zane was never the verbal type, he opted for not saying a word.

Bailey smiled nonetheless and took Zane’s hand. He curled his fingers around the hand that seemed to engulf his. “Let’s watch some TV, ok? You clearly need some rest.”

Zane had no argument there. Bailey led him back to the bed.

The two sat side by side. Their arms brushed, even if there was more than enough space for them not to be.

Bailey kept his hand on top of Zane’s, which was now perched on his knee.

Zane didn’t brush it off, but he didn’t quite hold hands either. The touch was oddly comforting.

Feeling the warmth of another next to him caused Zane’s eyes to flutter closed.

He had been desperately wishing for sleep, but it never came.

However, with Bailey, Zane always felt like he could pass out.

Perhaps that was an insult, or it may have been one of the best forms of a compliment.

Before Zane could determine which it was, though, he drifted into sleep; his body slumping against the wall while his head rested itself on Bailey’s shoulder.

Calling Bailey frozen would be a lie. He was far worse than that.

It was as if he was stuck in time, not breathing, blinking, or thinking.

His skin trembled under Zane’s warm breath, tickling his neck.

Then Zane’s hair brushed against his skin.

He sat rigid as a board, spine tingling.

As much as he wanted to push that hair away or move so his heart could calm down, he didn’t, because he knew how much Zane needed to sleep.

Bailey prayed to whatever being would listen that he wouldn’t have a heart attack.

But then minutes later, Zane’s hand tightened around Bailey’s.

Subtle at first, then the soft cradling of his own that he burned from the top of his head to the tip of his toes.

His cheeks probably matched a tomato, but it was fine.

Zane was asleep so he couldn’t see, except Zane would eventually wake up.

How would he feel waking up to holding hands and cuddling with Bailey?

Would that be a problem? He was the one who started it!

But Bailey never finished it or backed away.

So was there anyone at fault? What the fuck was he meant to do?

Bailey didn’t need an answer to such a question.

The world saved him from his predicament by a sudden knock at the door.

Bailey couldn’t imagine who would visit Zane.

He wasn’t the chatty type. Then someone knocked again.

Not wanting to wake Zane, Bailey carefully removed himself.

He tiptoed his way to the door, swinging it open to stare at two unfamiliar faces; a man and a woman dressed in mostly black.

The girl had long brown hair. The boy hid beneath a beanie.

Though, if Bailey had to take a guess, they were siblings.

“Can I help you?” Bailey asked, hesitantly.

“Zane lives here, right?” The girl asked, peering behind Bailey. Though no one could miss Zane’s figure on the futon, Bailey angled himself in the doorway to try to block him.

“Wake him up for us, won’t you?” she added.

“No, he needs his rest,” Bailey responded. His grip tightened on the door in case he had to slam it in their faces.

The man rolled his eyes as he leaned against the doorframe. Bailey didn’t like the way he looked at him. Though he wasn’t giving Bailey any particular “look” he had this air about him that made Bailey not trust him.