Kiss With a Fist (Bdoc Hero AU)

Chapter Three: Not Weak

Another day had passed and still silence from his enemies. He scanned the city from the rooftop of a building, the sun had long since set but the moon not yet fully risen. Tugging his mask, Dynamight continued to patrol the city.

A part of him wanted to call it early. It had been almost a year since these patrols led to him running into Warlock and Angel, and around five months since they helped him find any criminals. Jumping down to another building, Doc stretched his arms. Just when he started to truly consider quitting, he spotted something.

Behind the entrance to the roof of the next building, bubbles were floating around. Doc quickly and quietly jumped to the building. With one hand gripping his hood, he inched closer, words reaching his ears.

"He's right, you're weak, you're slow," Angel was muttering to himself. His face was cemented in a disappointed scowl and he was making short and sharp movements, bubbles darting around. "Why can't you be better already?" The bubbles were swerving around his arms, darting about and crashing into the floor and wall of the exit. He formed a large bubble between his hands, and Dynamight furrowed his brow as he saw him wince. The shorter gritting his teeth, letting out a small noise of pain. Angel let go of it and made more movements with his arms to control its direction.

Dropping one arm, he left the other outstretched. When he closed his hand into a fist, the bubble popped. He stared at his hands while he muttered, "Still too weak."

This was... strange for the hero. He never thought he'd find himself so concerned over his enemy's well-being. After all, he was a villain. Someone who casts aside the law as if it's nothing. So why now does he care? Why now does this suddenly bother him so much?

Or maybe, he did always care. 

Typically when they fought, he was always the first to throw a punch, kick or any sort of attack at Warlock. But when it came to Angel, he'd only land a hit on him if he was provoked enough. 

"You're not weak," Dynamight quietly admitted, stepping out of hiding.

Angel whipped around, his eyes wide. He pointed his palms at the hero, revealing irritation and light scarring on his skin. All of the bubbles around him were sent flying at the hooded male.

"W-Wait!" he protested as he attempted to dodge the barrage of attacks. "I just want to talk!"

"I highly doubt that," he scoffed, making the bubbles chase after him. While dodging the bubbles, he moved closer to the male in red and white. Just as he began to float, he gently grabbed his wrist with one hand and touched the back of his hand with the other.

"Please."

-

Angel's hands were in pain. That's what he gets from creating acid. He braced himself when Dynamight grabbed hold of his wrist, but it seemed like the hero purposefully avoided touching his palm. Not to mention he never imagined in a million years that his enemy was capable of giving someone a comforting and reassuring touch, let alone to him.

Dynamight was staring at him, but with unusually soft eyes. (Well, it was hard to tell as they were covered with red lenses) Motivated by old feelings, he slowly let his feet touch the ground again. Once he did, the tall hero let go of him. As Angel slowly sat cross-legged on the ground, Dynamight reached into one of his belt pouches and pulled out some bandages. He sat down with him and began treating his hands.

"Why are you doing this?" he whispered with a strained voice. This was so unlike him, to show any form of care towards the tan villain.

"I'm serious, okay?" he mumbled, cutting the bandage. "You're not weak. Warlock has no right to feed you those lies."

"I never said Warlock said those things," he pointed out with a scoff. The hooded male looked up at him.

"You didn't have to."

Angel just blinked at him. What was he supposed to do in this situation? "You didn't answer my question," he quickly pointed out while the taller folded his hands in his lap.

"As I said, I wanted to talk to you, and I wasn't just going to let you sit there with an injury." He scoffed at his reason. It's not that he didn't believe him, he definitely was telling the truth. But there was more to it and he wouldn't let it out.

"Listen I don't care if you put bandages on my hand or don't throw me fifteen feet for once- I don't owe you anything. I'm not going to tell ya anything about Warlock's project. You know that, right?" A mean smile spread across his face as he leaned forward.

"I figured as much. But even so, that's not what I wanted to talk about." Angel sat back, cocking his head in confusion.

Before he could ask what exactly Dynamight meant, the hero pulled down his hood and smoothed back his dark brunette hair. It's not like it was his first time seeing his hair or his face more clearly, but it was still a rare occurrence. He stared at the shorter brunette, and although the mask covered his eyes, he could tell determination and concern were painted on his face.

"Do you remember that instance from a couple of months ago, with the Totem of Truths?" he asked, making the other cringe.

"I was hoping you'd forget about that," Angel grumbled, staring down at his lap.

"Well, I didn't. And you never told Warlock, did you?" the hero accused. His eyes snapped up to stare at him whilst he tried not to shake. How could he tell Warlock? The wizard would probably kill him if he admitted he felt underappreciated and wished he was treated more like an actual person. Of course, the hero could also be talking about how he sort of let it slip how in their first year fighting he found Dynamight low-key hot.

"That's none of your business," he muttered. Angel stood up, smoothing his half-skirt. "Well, it's late, I'm tired, and if you're not going to talk about anything useful with me, then I'll just go."

"Angel," the taller followed, standing up as well. He pulled his hood back up, shielding the expression on his face. "I know I probably shouldn't be saying this but; I really admire your abilities, and I genuinely think you're a lot stronger than Warlock makes you believe."

-

The short villain's lips were pressed into a thin line, his face cold. Except for his eyes, Doc realized. They were practically sparkling as he carefully searched his.

A weird feeling bloomed in his chest, and it took him by surprise.

"Are you lying to me?" Angel whispered, his expression not faltering. He wasn't accusing the hero per se, he was just genuinely curious, and hesitant.

"No," he insisted.

-

The emotions he had suppressed so long ago had once again broken free, replanting themselves inside the light brunette. He just stood there as Dynamight took off, leaving him surrounded by the darkness of the night. The freckled male ran a hand through his hair, lightly laughing as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Curse you Dynamight, making me fall for you all over again.