Work Text:
“Hannibal, are you banging your gay in-house scientist?”
Hannibal McFist, still in his robe and PJs, froze halfway through a sip of coffee. His wife sat on the other side of the small kitchen table, in her own set of sleepwear and unstyled hair, eyes levelled at her husband and hands clutching a steaming mug of her own. If she was mad, she didn’t let on. McFist lowered his cup.
“My… what? Wait, Viceroy’s gay?”
Marci smirked, brows a bit worried, stirring sugar into black tea.
“Hanny, baby, Viceroy is literally one of the gayest men I’ve ever met. Are you or are you not banging him? Because if you are, that’s fine, but we need to open and honest about it.”
Hannibal choked on his mouthful of coffee, coughing into the crook of his robotic arm as he tried to spit out a reply.
“Marci, jesus, I guarantee you I am not... banging Viceroy. I’m married! To you! Why would you… why would you think that I was doing that? I’m not doing that.”
“Goodness, I'm sorry. I believe ya, Hannibal! Just curious, is all. Ya can’t deny ya like the guy.”
“Sure, as a friend.”
“Oh, don’t give me that. You two are nuts about each other! You take him everywhere-- out ninja-hunting, out bowling, out trick-or-treating… he lives in our house, honey. This is something you’ve been ignoring for a while and I wanna talk about it.”
McFist scoffed defensively, putting down his mug as his wife drank hers. “I’m not ignoring anything. We’re friends, Marci, that’s what friends do. You don’t see me complaining when you and Viceroy get mani-pedis together.”
“No, but we don’t come home from the nail studio at two in the morning, half-drunk and yelling about how much we love each other.”
Her husband looked away. “Oh boy. I'd forgotten about that.”
Marci rolled her eyes. “It happened last night, Hannibal. And the night a few weeks ago. And the night before that. I swear, the tension between you boys is so thick you could cut it with a knife. He’s all you talk about when you drink, ya know! All Viceroy this and Viceroy that. Don’t tell me you’re just good friends.”
“I didn’t... I can't believe I... I mean. Geez, I’m sorry. I just get talky sometimes and kind of I wish that, uh.”
“You’d wish I’d just forget it, I know. You’ve told me. I know how your memory gets worse after midnight.” She reached across and tapped his nose as he maintained eye contact with his coffee. “But when your goodnight to me is "we should let Viceroy sleep in here, he’d be just like you, only taller and twice", then I start to question the nature of your feelings for the guy.”
She took a swig of tea for emphasis as her husband’s face went red. He could have sworn that he had never actually said that out loud.
“...He likes you a lot, Hannibal. You like him too. If you wanna bang him, you have my full permission. I just thought I would come out and address it before it becomes a problem.”
McFist coughed on his coffee again, still struggling to come to terms with what was happening. “I'm not going to bang him, Marc, please stop using that word. Even... even if I do like him as more than a loyal employee with fantastic facial hair, I don’t want to make things weird. I don’t want to, you know, cheat on you.”
Marcy smiled, clutching her tea. “It's not cheating if your wife's okay with it, Hanny. It’s just, ya know, something new-- and it certainly doesn’t have to be some sorta creepy mormon thing. Just let Viceroy know that he can sleep in our room if he wants to.”
Hannibal looked back into his coffee, a distant smile working its way onto his face as he thought of sleeping with each arm hooked around someone he loved. “Yeah, maybe I'll talk to him.”
Marcy yawned her approval, stretching. She grabbed her cup and stood up to go get dressed, but Hannibal grabbed her gown before she could pass him by. He stood up to meet her, looping his arms around her waist and pulling her into an enormous hug.
“Marci, baby, you’re the best wife I could ever have. And even if I do like Viceroy for more than his moustache, I want you to know that you’re still my number one. And I, uh. I love you. You know I do.”
The blonde giggled and let herself be swept downward into one of Hannibal’s more energetic good-morning kisses. “Ohh, I know. I love ya too, ya big goof. I'd know it better than anyone-- there’s plenty’a Hannibal to go around.”