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The adjustments to the master bedroom nestled deep in the heart of Boxmore happened about as rapidly as the need for them came about, as the original occupant was nothing if not accommodating.
Professor Venomous shifted in the new bed, twisting fresh and unfamiliar king-sized sheets around his legs as he turned to face his partner sitting giddily at the edge of the mattress. The weight of what he and Lord Boxman had rather hastily decided that they wanted was starting to collect on his shoulders, and churn uneasily in his stomach, even with all the butterflies that had collected there.
He had a certain reputation that he needed to uphold as a pragmatic, cunning villain to be feared. And there he was, acting like a blushing newlywed over some ridiculous man that he’d went and gotten so enamored with that he’d decided to throw caution to the wind and move in with him on the spot.
But then, it wasn’t Boxman himself that was making something itch and crawl underneath his skin. No, even as cynical as he may be, as thoroughly unfazed by cruelty as he was, he just couldn’t see himself having anything to fear from his partner. (Boyfriend? De facto husband? They’d have to discuss that detail at some point.)
It was the very concept of domesticity shared by two that felt strange to wear, as he’d come to think of it as a costume that he’d forfeited years ago. This, now, felt right, and natural, and easy, and that was what was hard for him to accept. He had taken for granted that his decisions had barred him entry from experiencing this and yet, here it was, unfolding easily before him.
The closest he’d ever come to this before, all those years ago with Carol, it had felt like a costume then. Another necessary piece of an increasingly stifling persona.
“PV? Everything okay?” Boxman asks, stirring him from his spiral with a smile and cautious hand on his thigh. “I can practically hear you thinking.”
“I’m alright, just a bit reflective,” Venomous murmurs. “Come lie down with me.”
The professor clearly didn’t need to say it twice, as he was practically scrambling to plop down next to him the instant the words left his mouth. Boxman sprawled himself inelegantly over the space to his left, and Venomous couldn’t stop himself from letting out a low, rumbling laugh at the way his partner exaggeratedly propped himself up on his elbow.
Venomous reaches over to tangle a hand in his, quietly joining their fingers without fanfare. He looks down at where they’ve become intertwined, at the way their inhuman skin tones both wash shades of blue in the cool moonlight filtering in through the broad windows, and sighs.
“Dear?” He asks quietly, curling the pet name around his tongue like an unfamiliar taste that he’s still figuring out.
“Yes honey?” Boxman replies, way too fast.
“There are some things you should probably know about me,” he starts cautiously. “Things you, uh, probably should’ve known before we rushed into all of this.”
“I’m not really following, but shoot.”
Venomous hisses a sigh through his teeth and averts his gaze.
“You know I love you, right?”
“I, um,” Boxman stammers, grinning sheepishly as his face goes red. “Well, I’d uh, hope as much by now, you know?”
It’s disgustingly endearing how flustered the man still gets over the status of their well-established relationship, Venomous thinks. They both know he’s not usually a man of so many words, so the reminder clearly hasn’t lost its effect.
“I love you too, of course,” Boxman quickly adds after the silence drags on a little too long. “Love how smart you are, and how charming, and all your scheming, and plotting, and villainy, and, uh,” he rambles, all the while taking Venomous’s hand and squeezing it, “well, everything about you, really. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”
Venomous laughs again, deep in the back of his throat, even as a wave of affection squeezes harshly at his chest.
“Alright, alright then,” he says. “It’s about my identity prior to all of this.”
“Okay.”
“I used to be in POINT before, uh, faking my death, I guess?” He starts a little lamely, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It wasn’t my intention, originally, but it’s how things turned out.”
“Oh,” Boxman says, seemingly mulling the concept over in his mind. “That all?”
“...No, not exactly,” Venomous responds. “Do you want the long version?”
Boxman nods.
“Well,” he says, deep and theatrical, running a finger under Boxman’s chin. “You know I love power.”
His partner shudders under his touch, even as a delighted grin spreads wide and toothy across his face.
“My, is this going to be a tale of hubris, dear professor?” Boxman asks, mock-scandalized, egging on the dramatics.
“Some might see it that way, but as far as I’m concerned,” Venomous punctuates the thought with a tap on Boxman’s nose, “things worked out just fine for me.”
“You flatter me.”
Venomous gives him a fond smile, but reminds himself that he shouldn’t keep dancing around the subject.
“So, as you might imagine, the life I had as a hero wasn’t enough for me,” he says. Now that he finally has someone he needs to tell his tale aloud to, he hardly knows how to phrase it, he realizes, and thinks for a moment before continuing. “I... wasn’t satisfied with what I was capable of, and that lead me to the research that do now. In secret, naturally.”
He tells him about his experiments, and how his team caught on, how it all went horribly wrong, all the while carefully watching the shift of Boxman’s unusually subtle expressions. He doesn’t interject, just listens, and occasionally nods as Venomous explains.
“Eventually all that gave way to outright villainy when I realized how profitable it was,” He sighs. “At first, anyways. You know, when I was desperate to fund my projects through the limited avenues I had to work with.”
“And then what changed?”
“You already know, Boxy,” Venomous chuckles, and snakes his arms around him, pulling him close. “I realized how much fun it was.”
Boxman giggles a bit as he’s grabbed, all the while Venomous peppers his face with kisses.
“I realized how powerful I could become.” Kiss. “And how venerated I could be.” Kiss. “And how good it all felt.” Kiss.
“Oh, professor ,” he keens, and the shake to his voice betrays how his exaggerated swooning is hardly an act.
Venomous pulls away from him, face softening as his gaze flits over his partner.
“Fate lead me to all of this. And to you.”
“Aw, PV, you’re never this mushy.”
“So appreciate it,” he says. His smile falls away as he contemplates his next statements. “There’s actually... more to this that I still have to tell you. Something probably more important.”
“More important than your dark origin story?”
“Yeah,” he mutters, and falls back against the pillows. He grits his teeth, steels his resolve, and decides to cut right to the chase on this one.
“I’m nearly certain that K.O.’s my son.”
Boxman blinks at him, wearing the sort of absolute bewilderment all over his features that only comes from being entirely blindsided by something particularly odd. Venomous blinks back, patiently waiting for him to say something.
“...What?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s- He’s- But you’re- Wh- How? ” He stammers out rapid-fire.
Venomous pinches the bridge of his nose, and bares his fangs in a grimace. He’d known there was no way this wouldn’t be a massive headache on every front.
“The kid’s mom. The one your nemesis is so taken by. That’s Silverspark,” he explains simply. “You could say I knew her.”
“Uh huh ,” Boxman says.
He’s leaving out a lot of details right now, but he’s not itching to go on a tangent when he’s finally gotten to the main point of all this. Save the real heavy self-analysis for a later date, maybe. Sure, if there was a single soul inhabiting this earth that he’d willingly bare his soul to on the subject, it was obviously Boxman, but that didn’t mean he had to do it now.
“We were sort of POINT’s obligatory sexy hero power couple, you know how it is,” he replies, flourishing it with a half-hearted hand gesture. “In any case, the dates line up.”
“This certainly, eh, adds a layer or two to things, doesn’t it.”
“Perhaps,” Venomous agrees, and rolls onto his side to face him again. “But it could make our hero-crushing far more interesting, too, if you’re game.”
“Oh you are evil ,” Boxman gleefully exclaims, and plants an enthusiastic, sloppy kiss on him. “Of course, of course.”
Venomous smiles, and shifts to languidly drape himself over his bedmate. He nips at his neck, feather-light, and doesn’t miss the satisfyingly audible hitch in his breath.
“I always aim to please,” he purrs
“That’s not true at all and you know it,” Boxman teases.
“Well,” Venomous says, “Just for you, then. Aren’t you lucky.”
“I already thought so, you know,” he replies, almost laughably serious, and Venomous feels himself melt a little despite himself.
Venomous kisses him, lazy and slow, sick of talking about the past. Remembering the person he used to be always left behind the taste of bile, one part regret and two parts distain. Dwelling on that didn’t suit someone like him, it was better to save that for someone who had use for remorse.
They stay like that a while, not moving beyond relatively chaste kisses, existing in an easy silence while they enjoyed the others presence there. This is, perhaps, what some might call their honeymoon phase, after all. One just as unconventional as the rest of their relationship (just the way they like it) but a honeymoon phase all the same.
Venomous slides, unhurried, down his body to rest his head against Boxman’s chest. He sighs deeply, listening to the thrum of the beating heart beneath him, feeling a contentedness he once thought himself incapable of.
It’s Boxman who eventually breaks the silence, this time.
“Do you... miss any of it?”
He’s quiet, making himself small in the way he does sometimes, when he thinks it’s safer to be deferential.
“Hm,” Venomous hums to himself, taking his time to answer.
“Oh, you, don’t have to answer if you don’t want-“
“No. I really don’t.” Venomous murmurs, looking up from the circles he’d been tracing over Boxman’s chest. “You’d think I would, but this freedom I have now, it’s too...” he pauses, then grins wide and lunges forward for a quick kiss.
“... Exhilarating .”
Boxman smiles against his lips, and relaxes against him.
“Not even the kid’s mom?”
“Oh, don’t be jealous,” he teases, but the playful smirk on his face gives way to something more somber, more thoughtful. “To be frank, I’m sure at some point I must’ve cared for her in some way, but it’s hard to even imagine now.”
Boxman hums his understanding, giving him a look that urges him to continue. Venomous gnaws on his lower lip, looking for words to articulate something he’s long mulled over, but never once articulated.
“I was so caught up in playing a role, even while I was festering in dissatisfaction for everything around me, that I don’t know if I can really call it genuine.” He continues, and looks up at the darkened ceiling with a dry smile. “Being with her felt so... obvious. Like it was something I just had to do. Even when the only thing I was sure I felt was resentment, it seemed like the only option.”
He snorts, and lets his head fall away from him. “Hell, back then I was still totally convinced I didn’t like men.”
“Ah,” Boxman says softly, confident he caught his implication.
“Listen, I did try to regain what I’d lost, once, but somewhere along the line I saw the out, and I took it. I knew I could go back to her if I really wanted but I just... didn’t. ” He meets his gaze again, looking far more vulnerable and melancholy than Boxman knows he’d ever let himself be outside of their room, and smiles. “And I’m so glad.”
Boxman beams back at him with barely restrained adoration, and pulls him into a crushing hug, meeting no resistance.
“I already thought I was the luckiest villain around, but now I know I am,” he mumbles into Venomous’ neck, squeezing his arms tight around his chest.
“Oh yeah?” Venomous chuckles, fondness dripping into his tone.
“Yeah,” he replies, words muffled against the sensitive flesh of his throat. “Can’t believe how lucky I am that all that happened and ended with you being here with me.”
Venomous gently wraps an arm around his partner, holding him close, and squeezes his eyes shut. He presses his face into his hair, feeling cool metal against his cheek where his face divides, and takes in a shuddering inhale to ground himself.
“You’re... fine with all this, then? All the secrets, and lies, and... entanglements.”
“Oh, of course I am, PV,” Boxman quietly assures him with a small laugh. “I couldn’t be happier to be your confidant.”
Confidant . That was a new one, something to add to the growing list of business partner, romantic partner, and co-father figure to a bunch of minions. Curiously, the term filled him with a similar thrill as the others. There was something so delightfully intimate about it. An unexpected bonus to being a secretive, callous, untrustworthy villain of the highest caliber, it seemed, was how special the act of honesty became. A secret shared with only one other was as good as any gift, he thought.
“Besides, ” Boxman adds lowly, dancing a finger along the curve of his back. “I think having this dark and brooding backstory is veeeery attractive of you.”
Venomous laughs, and disentangles them just enough to prop a hand under his chin, tilting his face up towards him. His biological eye glints with such brazen fondness as it looks up at him, that again he finds his heart aching with the intensity of it, and he suppresses the urge to blurt out how lucky he also thinks he is.
“Oh yeah?” Is all he says, though.
“Uh huh,” Boxman grins back. “It’s just so dastardly and romantic, you know? Like, the ex-hero who left his teammates to suffer once he got a taste of the life he was really craving? Kinda hot.”
“You have such an imagination, Boxy,” he teases, though the flush to his cheeks makes it clear he’s being as earnest as ever, and a little thrill goes through him.
“You love it.”
“Oh, you know I do.”
The professor realizes then, plain as day, that he trusts Boxman in a way he hasn’t experienced before. He trusts him with his secrets, and baggage, and the weight of his life before taking up this mantle, sure, but he also trusts him to be honest with him. The man’s ingratiating, shameless reverence for him that once made him wary was completely sincere all along.
“Come ‘ere, ex-hero,” he says, a little goofy and sweet as anything, and Venomous obliges.