accidentalheroproblems

[accidentalheroproblems]

Hughie didn’t answer right away. He stood by the window, already halfway into the shirt she’d left him—soft, overpriced, probably tailored for someone with better posture and fewer scars. The sound of Butcher pulling on clothes filled the silence, sharp and final, like the end of something that never had a name.

He nodded, slowly, still not turning around. “Yeah,” he said, voice quiet. “Right. Never happened.” He tried to make it sound easy. Light. Like he agreed. Like it hadn’t meant anything. But his throat felt too tight, and his jaw locked just a little too hard around the last word.

His eyes drifted over the view—clean streets, trimmed hedges, the kind of neighborhood that looked like it’d reject them on sight. He wondered if this was what normal people felt like after a weekend of sex. Confused. Hollow. Wanting more and hating that they did.

He forced a shaky breath, pulling the shirt the rest of the way down. “Guess we’ll both forget it eventually.” But even as he said it, he knew he wouldn’t. Not the weight. Not the heat. Not the way Butcher had looked at him right before it all blurred. And he didn’t want to forget—not really. Not yet.

Something about the younger male’s embarrassment was 𝒅𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 entertaining, to say the least. Was it the way he continued looking almost like a deer caught in headlights? Was it the fact that he seemed to be shaking like a leaf? Was it the way he was covering his junk with his hands almost as if he was guarding something precious? Butcher wasn’t entirely sure, but he couldn’t exactly help but let out a bit of a snicker under his breath.

His own hands had reached down to cover his junk as much as he possibly could, though it might not be doing much good. He was still just as naked as Hughie was, and it didn’t look like that would be changing any time soon. Unless, of course, the woman changed her mind and decided to let them have the clothes 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 them having to do anything with or to her in order to get them.

“All part of the learnin’ experience, Hughie.” Came the quick reply, the corners of the raven haired Brit’s lips already curving up into a mixed smirk/grin. “‘Sides, if it ‘elps make ya feel any better, ya can always close your eyes ‘n pretend she’s your beloved Starlight.”

[accidentalheroproblems]

hughie being the average civilian, seeing the "supes are good and perfect" propaganda and not questioning it, up until they directly harmed him (Robin), and being pressured by his dad to go back to the blissful ignorance but he cant, he becomes a revolutionary instead 🙏 hughie is everything to me

[accidentalheroproblems]

Hughie stood by the table, one hand hovering near the untouched plate of food, the other curled loosely at his side. He wasn’t hungry. Not really. His body was too sore, his mind still knotted from everything that had happened—and the silence from Butcher across the room didn’t help. He hadn’t looked at him once. Not since they woke up. Not since the bed stopped creaking and the reality set in.

He cleared his throat, kept his voice light. Casual. Like they were just two guys on the road again. “Well… at least she left us breakfast, right? That’s gotta be a first.” He tried to laugh. It came out more like a breath. “And clothes. Coffee. Cash. That’s… something.”

There was a long pause before he added, quieter, “It got us what we needed.” He nodded to himself, more than to Butcher. “No regrets. I mean—shit got weird, but… it’s over now.” His voice wavered just slightly at the end, not enough to draw attention unless someone was listening too closely.

He didn't turn around. He didn’t need to. “I’m not gonna bring it up,” he said, eyes locked on the mug in front of him. “Not if you’re not. I just… figured you should know that.” He gave a small shrug, the movement stiff from sore muscles and too much unsaid. “We’ll get dressed. Get moving. Pretend it never happened.” A pause. “If that’s what you want.”

Something about the younger male’s embarrassment was 𝒅𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 entertaining, to say the least. Was it the way he continued looking almost like a deer caught in headlights? Was it the fact that he seemed to be shaking like a leaf? Was it the way he was covering his junk with his hands almost as if he was guarding something precious? Butcher wasn’t entirely sure, but he couldn’t exactly help but let out a bit of a snicker under his breath.

His own hands had reached down to cover his junk as much as he possibly could, though it might not be doing much good. He was still just as naked as Hughie was, and it didn’t look like that would be changing any time soon. Unless, of course, the woman changed her mind and decided to let them have the clothes 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 them having to do anything with or to her in order to get them.

“All part of the learnin’ experience, Hughie.” Came the quick reply, the corners of the raven haired Brit’s lips already curving up into a mixed smirk/grin. “‘Sides, if it ‘elps make ya feel any better, ya can always close your eyes ‘n pretend she’s your beloved Starlight.”

[accidentalheroproblems]

Hughie stared at the breakfast like it had been placed there by a dream. Or a demon. Eggs. Pancakes. Bacon, perfectly crisped. Two cups of coffee still steaming, and a quiet little pile of bills stacked next to neatly folded clothes. His, and Butcher’s. There was even a travel-sized deodorant sitting on top like some twisted courtesy gift bag.

It should’ve felt gross. Exploited. Maybe even humiliating.

But it didn’t.

His body ached in ways he couldn’t explain. Not just the usual soreness—this was inside, deep and slow, the kind of ache that made it hard to sit without remembering exactly how they’d spent the weekend. And Butcher? He hadn’t said a word. Just breathing, slow, somewhere behind him. Hughie didn’t have to look to know he was there. He could feel it. Big. Heavy. Present.

And the worst part? It didn’t bother him.

He ran a hand through his hair, eyes fixed on the eggs. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he said softly, almost to himself. “We were supposed to kill Supes. Not—fuck. Not fuck each other.”

A sharp breath. He didn’t move.

“I mean… yeah, we’ve seen some shit. Done worse.” He gave a small, humorless laugh. “Killed Translucent together, sure. But I never thought I’d—” He cut off, lips pressing tight. “I never thought I’d let you. Or want to.”

The silence held.

Hughie didn’t turn around. Didn’t have to.

Something about the younger male’s embarrassment was 𝒅𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 entertaining, to say the least. Was it the way he continued looking almost like a deer caught in headlights? Was it the fact that he seemed to be shaking like a leaf? Was it the way he was covering his junk with his hands almost as if he was guarding something precious? Butcher wasn’t entirely sure, but he couldn’t exactly help but let out a bit of a snicker under his breath.

His own hands had reached down to cover his junk as much as he possibly could, though it might not be doing much good. He was still just as naked as Hughie was, and it didn’t look like that would be changing any time soon. Unless, of course, the woman changed her mind and decided to let them have the clothes 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 them having to do anything with or to her in order to get them.

“All part of the learnin’ experience, Hughie.” Came the quick reply, the corners of the raven haired Brit’s lips already curving up into a mixed smirk/grin. “‘Sides, if it ‘elps make ya feel any better, ya can always close your eyes ‘n pretend she’s your beloved Starlight.”

[accidentalheroproblems]

The room smelled like sweat, sex, and whatever motel soap couldn’t scrub off.

Hughie sat at the edge of the bed, moving slow, like every inch of him ached. Because it did. His thighs were sore, his lower back was wrecked, and somewhere deep in his hips lived a dull, pulsing ache that only came from being fucked in ways he’d never planned to be fucked.

The woman was long gone—disappeared like she hadn’t just spent the weekend milking every last drop from both of them. And Butcher… Butcher hadn’t said a word.

Hughie rubbed at the back of his neck, wincing as he shifted. His hole still felt tender, his cock sensitive like it had been worked over by a machine—and not gently. He knew Butcher had to be just as sore. There’d been positions, for Christ’s sake. There’d been sounds.

He cleared his throat. “So… you sore too?” he asked, trying for casual, failing spectacularly. “Because I’m walkin’ like I got hit by a bus. A very specific, cock-shaped bus.”

Silence.

He ran a hand through his hair, wild and still damp at the roots. “Cool. No talking. That’s fine. Really keeps the shame nice and warm.”

He let out a tight, shaky breath. “I mean, it’s not like our cocks were touching while we were both inside her. Or while I was—” he stopped, mouth snapping shut.

His face burned. His ass still ached.

“…Right,” he muttered. “Totally normal weekend.”

Something about the younger male’s embarrassment was 𝒅𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 entertaining, to say the least. Was it the way he continued looking almost like a deer caught in headlights? Was it the fact that he seemed to be shaking like a leaf? Was it the way he was covering his junk with his hands almost as if he was guarding something precious? Butcher wasn’t entirely sure, but he couldn’t exactly help but let out a bit of a snicker under his breath.

His own hands had reached down to cover his junk as much as he possibly could, though it might not be doing much good. He was still just as naked as Hughie was, and it didn’t look like that would be changing any time soon. Unless, of course, the woman changed her mind and decided to let them have the clothes 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 them having to do anything with or to her in order to get them.

“All part of the learnin’ experience, Hughie.” Came the quick reply, the corners of the raven haired Brit’s lips already curving up into a mixed smirk/grin. “‘Sides, if it ‘elps make ya feel any better, ya can always close your eyes ‘n pretend she’s your beloved Starlight.”

[accidentalheroproblems]

Hughie had been holding it together. Barely. His hands gripped the sheets like a lifeline, his thighs twitching with every slow pump of her wrist. The bed was too warm, too soft, the air too thick with sweat and moans—Butcher’s moans, no less—and he was starting to feel lightheaded. He focused on the ceiling. On his breathing. On not accidentally making eye contact with anything below the neck.

Then her hand shifted.

Just slightly. Just enough.

Skin touched skin. His cock brushed against Butcher’s.

Hughie went completely still.

Then twitched violently.

“Oh my god,” he hissed through clenched teeth, voice high and tight as panic. “Nope. Nope nope nope. That was—they touched, I felt it, I felt it. We’re too close, we’re way too close.”

He squirmed, shifting his hips, but it didn’t help. Her hand just kept going, slow and relentless, like she didn’t care they were now in some kind of horrifying dick duel. The heat of it made his thighs tremble. His cock throbbed anyway, the traitor.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” he muttered, eyes screwed shut. “This is just physics. Proximity. It’s friction, not feelings.”

And still—her grip tightened. Their cocks bumped again.

Hughie groaned and buried his face in his forearm.

“I’m gonna need to be exorcised.”

Something about the younger male’s embarrassment was 𝒅𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 entertaining, to say the least. Was it the way he continued looking almost like a deer caught in headlights? Was it the fact that he seemed to be shaking like a leaf? Was it the way he was covering his junk with his hands almost as if he was guarding something precious? Butcher wasn’t entirely sure, but he couldn’t exactly help but let out a bit of a snicker under his breath.

His own hands had reached down to cover his junk as much as he possibly could, though it might not be doing much good. He was still just as naked as Hughie was, and it didn’t look like that would be changing any time soon. Unless, of course, the woman changed her mind and decided to let them have the clothes 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 them having to do anything with or to her in order to get them.

“All part of the learnin’ experience, Hughie.” Came the quick reply, the corners of the raven haired Brit’s lips already curving up into a mixed smirk/grin. “‘Sides, if it ‘elps make ya feel any better, ya can always close your eyes ‘n pretend she’s your beloved Starlight.”

[accidentalheroproblems]

My stupid addition the this funny little meme

[accidentalheroproblems]

Hughie lay flat on his back, tense as a power line, all long limbs and twitchy muscles pulled taut beneath the sheets. Pale skin flushed deep red across his chest and neck, his breath coming too fast, too shallow. His chest rose and fell in sharp stutters, fine hair damp with sweat, sticking to skin. His thighs were tight, knees half-bent like his body couldn’t decide whether to brace or bolt. Messy brown hair clung to his forehead, freckles standing out bold against the heat in his cheeks. He looked like someone had dragged a nervous virgin into the middle of a threesome he’d accidentally agreed to on a dare.

And Butcher was right there—bigger, broader, his presence impossible to ignore. Muscles carved under dark hair, legs spread like he didn’t know the meaning of shame. The sound of his breathing—deep, gravel-rough, fucking steady—was maddening. She had her hands on both of them. Hughie could feel the rhythm of her stroking him, smooth, practiced, hot. And she wasn’t slowing down.

Her hand slid up his shaft again and he choked on a moan, back twitching against the bed. His fingers clawed at the sheets, desperate for something to anchor him. His cock jumped in her grip like it was trying to run ahead of the rest of him. He clenched his jaw. Don’t look left. Don’t you dare look left.

His thighs trembled.

“This is fine,” he whispered to himself, voice strangled. “This is—this is just a thing. A one-time, panic-induced… situation. It’s not a thing. Just—just physics. Heat. Friction. Two dicks. One very, very skilled hand.”

She squeezed. He whimpered.

Hughie shut his eyes tight. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he breathed, “I’m gonna die like this.”

Something about the younger male’s embarrassment was 𝒅𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 entertaining, to say the least. Was it the way he continued looking almost like a deer caught in headlights? Was it the fact that he seemed to be shaking like a leaf? Was it the way he was covering his junk with his hands almost as if he was guarding something precious? Butcher wasn’t entirely sure, but he couldn’t exactly help but let out a bit of a snicker under his breath.

His own hands had reached down to cover his junk as much as he possibly could, though it might not be doing much good. He was still just as naked as Hughie was, and it didn’t look like that would be changing any time soon. Unless, of course, the woman changed her mind and decided to let them have the clothes 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 them having to do anything with or to her in order to get them.

“All part of the learnin’ experience, Hughie.” Came the quick reply, the corners of the raven haired Brit’s lips already curving up into a mixed smirk/grin. “‘Sides, if it ‘elps make ya feel any better, ya can always close your eyes ‘n pretend she’s your beloved Starlight.”

[accidentalheroproblems]

He stared, mouth open, hands still cupped over his junk like they were the last fragile shield between him and total moral collapse.

Her hand was right there, fingers gliding through Butcher’s happy trail like it was a runway, slow and deliberate, nails teasing skin in a way that made Hughie’s knees buckle just a little. Her gaze? Still locked on Hughie—like she knew he was watching. Like she wanted him to.

“Oh my god,” Hughie breathed, voice cracking like a dropped wine glass. “You’re—you’re seriously gonna—holy shit, you’re gonna jerk us off. At the same time.”

He stepped back like that would somehow protect him from the rising, hot weight pressing up behind his hands.

“This is insane. This is like—like porn but with eye contact and emotional consequences,” he blurted, eyes darting from her hand to her lips to her smirk. “I don’t even know where to look. Are we supposed to make small talk? Do I say thank you? I feel like I should say thank you.”

She didn't stop. She just smiled wider, like she wanted to eat them both alive—and Hughie swore he nearly came from just the look.

“I swear to god,” Hughie whimpered, arms still clenched around his rapidly betraying erection, “if I teleport mid-orgasm, I’m suing the universe.”

Something about the younger male’s embarrassment was 𝒅𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 entertaining, to say the least. Was it the way he continued looking almost like a deer caught in headlights? Was it the fact that he seemed to be shaking like a leaf? Was it the way he was covering his junk with his hands almost as if he was guarding something precious? Butcher wasn’t entirely sure, but he couldn’t exactly help but let out a bit of a snicker under his breath.

His own hands had reached down to cover his junk as much as he possibly could, though it might not be doing much good. He was still just as naked as Hughie was, and it didn’t look like that would be changing any time soon. Unless, of course, the woman changed her mind and decided to let them have the clothes 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 them having to do anything with or to her in order to get them.

“All part of the learnin’ experience, Hughie.” Came the quick reply, the corners of the raven haired Brit’s lips already curving up into a mixed smirk/grin. “‘Sides, if it ‘elps make ya feel any better, ya can always close your eyes ‘n pretend she’s your beloved Starlight.”

[accidentalheroproblems]

The woman’s voice was low and teasing as she gestured toward the bed. “Why don’t you both lay down? Makes things easier.” Hughie’s eyes snapped wide open, his body instantly betraying him as heat surged through his veins. His hands scrambled down in a desperate attempt to cover himself, but it was like trying to stop a flood with two fingers. His tousled brown hair fell forward, shadowing the sharp angles of his jaw and those wide, innocent blue eyes that always seemed too pure for the mess he found himself in.

“Jesus,” he muttered, voice cracking like a kid caught sneaking out. His gaze flicked nervously to the bed, then back to the woman’s wicked smile. “Closing my eyes? That’s just asking for trouble.” His pulse hammered in his throat, mixing embarrassment with a strange, electric thrill twisting low in his gut. A crooked, sheepish grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “And Starlight? Yeah, no way. She’d probably deck me if she saw me standing here like some deer caught in headlights.”

He shifted awkwardly, his lean body tense and every muscle betraying him as he tried to look anywhere but at the bed. His long fingers clenched at his sides, betraying his nerves. The room seemed to close in around him, every nerve screaming both terror and a wild, undeniable excitement—something raw and new and way too much for him to handle right now.

Something about the younger male’s embarrassment was 𝒅𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 entertaining, to say the least. Was it the way he continued looking almost like a deer caught in headlights? Was it the fact that he seemed to be shaking like a leaf? Was it the way he was covering his junk with his hands almost as if he was guarding something precious? Butcher wasn’t entirely sure, but he couldn’t exactly help but let out a bit of a snicker under his breath.

His own hands had reached down to cover his junk as much as he possibly could, though it might not be doing much good. He was still just as naked as Hughie was, and it didn’t look like that would be changing any time soon. Unless, of course, the woman changed her mind and decided to let them have the clothes 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 them having to do anything with or to her in order to get them.

“All part of the learnin’ experience, Hughie.” Came the quick reply, the corners of the raven haired Brit’s lips already curving up into a mixed smirk/grin. “‘Sides, if it ‘elps make ya feel any better, ya can always close your eyes ‘n pretend she’s your beloved Starlight.”

[accidentalheroproblems]

Hughie stood stiff near the arm of the couch, spine straight, legs pressed comically close together, both hands cupped tight over his junk like he was guarding the last Twinkie on Earth.

The fire crackled.

She looked at him like that was the appetizer.

He shifted awkwardly, ankles crossing like a knock-kneed ballerina. "okay" he muttered, eyes bouncing between her very obvious smirk and the very not subtle way her gaze kept dipping below his chin.

He tightened his grip, absolutely not imagining her doing anything at all with her tongue.

The fireplace, the soft couch, her perfume, that damn knowing look—every inch of the room said sit down, stay a while, get naked. Two outta three, and Hughie was already sweating.

Butcher made some low noise behind him—probably a laugh—but Hughie didn’t look. He was busy panicking.

"I dont' have experience in this kind of stuff, Butcher. Probably you have more than I do" he said quickly, now inching backward toward the nearest ottoman like it might offer emotional shelter. “I don’t like the idea of sticking around. Too many… reflective surfaces.”

He bumped into a lamp. Wobbled. Recovered. Didn’t scream.

Her eyes glittered. “You’re adorable.”

“I’m naked,” Hughie hissed, mortified, “and my balls are touching air freshener levels of citrus right now. I am not adorable. I am a walking regret.”

“Sooner ya get it taken care of, sooner it’ll disappear.” Butcher remarked, the slight smirk still etched across his lips. Finally, he shoved the younger male the rest of the way over the threshold of the open doorway and into the house. Sure, maybe it wasn’t exactly ideal, but damn it, they needed the clothes!

Stepping into the house right after the younger male, the raven haired Brit shifted his dark hazel gaze around the room they’d just entered for a few moments. “Interestin’ lookin’ place..”

Of course, it was interesting.

Picture frames were hanging on the walls and there were even some pictures that stood on top of a few shelves. Not to mention the fact that there was a pretty big looking fireplace off to the side as well as a pretty expensive looking flat screen TV that could be mounted onto a wall.

The couch looked pretty comfortable as well and the coffee table was interesting. Hell, this was the kind of home that 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆 would likely want to end up living in, even if it wouldn’t happen right away.

[accidentalheroproblems]

Average episode

[accidentalheroproblems]

Hughie stepped into the house, the warmth of the air around him suddenly feeling too comfortable, too perfect. It was the kind of place that screamed normalcy—something Hughie had never really had. The scent of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air, and for a second, it almost made him forget the chaos of his life. Almost.

Butcher’s voice broke the spell, his smirk evident in every word. “Sooner ya get it taken care of, sooner it’ll disappear.” Hughie glanced at the man, his nerves gnawing at him, but he couldn’t help it. The way Butcher always acted like things were just a game, like they could waltz into any situation and play it cool—it grated on Hughie’s nerves, but he was used to it by now. Even in a place like this, he couldn’t escape the madness.

The house was beautiful, damn it. Pictures framed moments of life that looked too perfect to be real. The couch looked too comfortable, the fireplace too inviting. Hughie couldn’t tear his eyes away, despite how much he wanted to. His heart sank when he thought about what he’d been through, and how this place would never belong to someone like him. Not with everything he’d seen, the bloodshed, the destruction. He didn’t belong here. And he sure as hell didn’t trust the soft, almost cozy feel of the room.

But then, Butcher was already moving around like it was just another day. “Interesting place,” he muttered, voice low and amused, eyes scanning the room as if it meant nothing. Hughie hated it. He hated how Butcher could walk into a place like this and treat it like just another stop on the job, as if it didn’t remind Hughie of the life he could never have. The life that would never exist for him with everything he was carrying inside.

"Feels wrong," Hughie said, barely above a whisper. "Feels too good." His throat tightened as he turned to Butcher, his gaze hardening. "Let's just get this done, yeah? I don’t like the idea of sticking around." He wasn’t sure if he meant the house or the man standing next to him. Probably both.

“Sooner ya get it taken care of, sooner it’ll disappear.” Butcher remarked, the slight smirk still etched across his lips. Finally, he shoved the younger male the rest of the way over the threshold of the open doorway and into the house. Sure, maybe it wasn’t exactly ideal, but damn it, they needed the clothes!

Stepping into the house right after the younger male, the raven haired Brit shifted his dark hazel gaze around the room they’d just entered for a few moments. “Interestin’ lookin’ place..”

Of course, it was interesting.

Picture frames were hanging on the walls and there were even some pictures that stood on top of a few shelves. Not to mention the fact that there was a pretty big looking fireplace off to the side as well as a pretty expensive looking flat screen TV that could be mounted onto a wall.

The couch looked pretty comfortable as well and the coffee table was interesting. Hell, this was the kind of home that 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆 would likely want to end up living in, even if it wouldn’t happen right away.

[accidentalheroproblems]

Hughie’s face burned like fire. His body had betrayed him in the worst possible way, and he couldn’t seem to escape the brutal reality of it. He caught Butcher’s chuckle and the woman’s teasing smile, both of them clearly enjoying his discomfort. His hands fidgeted at his sides, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it—especially not with them watching. The words harder than a rock kept replaying in his head, and his face felt like it might catch fire.

“Wait—what?” His voice cracked, panic making his words jumbled. Harder than a rock? He glanced back at Butcher, desperate for him to stop, but the older man seemed too damn amused by it all. Hughie tried to control his breathing, but it only made it worse. His body had a mind of its own, and that mind was not helping him here.

He turned a desperate look toward the woman, her teasing gaze weighing on him like a physical touch. She’s loving this, he thought, cringing internally. “Please, Butcher, I—just, can’t you not point it out?” His voice faltered, a mix of frustration and embarrassment turning his stomach. If there was any way out of this, he hadn’t found it yet.

Butcher’s smirk only grew wider, and the woman’s lips quirked knowingly. Hughie closed his eyes, wishing he could melt into the floor. He couldn’t believe he was stuck here, red-faced and frantic, in front of the two of them. This was a nightmare.

Normally, Butcher would probably not be inclined to take the woman up on her offer. Hell, since he’d lost Becca, he hadn’t been interested in seeing anyone else, let alone sleeping with anyone. Sure, there was a part of him that could understand why the younger male wasn’t the most comfortable with the whole thing. There was also a part of him that wanted to get those clothes, no matter what the cost might end up being.

“Course I got this.” Came the quick reply, his tone barely over a whisper. Reaching out with a hand, the raven haired Brit started pushing Hughie toward the open door and the woman. “Don’t worry ‘bout it so much, you’ll do 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒆..” The somewhat amused half grin grew a little wider across his lips.

Was it something he really wanted to do? Not particularly, though he was already bound and determined to get the clothes for both of them so they could 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 not have to go around in their birthday suits anymore. “‘Sides, from the looks of it, you’re already ‘arder than a fuckin’ rock, ‘n after we get the clothes, ya won’t ‘ave to worry ‘bout seein’ this beautiful bird ever again.”

As much as he’d tried to avoid looking anywhere but the younger male’s face, it was next to impossible to miss the fact that the kid had a boner. So, it was next to impossible for the raven haired Brit to 𝒏𝒐𝒕 bluntly point it out like he’d just done. There was only one surefire way of getting rid of it, as far as Butcher knew.

[accidentalheroproblems]

Hughie stumbled slightly as Butcher pushed him toward the open door, his feet barely catching the threshold before he froze like a deer in headlights. His face burned bright red, the heat searing through his cheeks and down his neck as Butcher’s words—crass, blunt, and impossible to ignore—hit him like a sucker punch.

“I—uh, wait, what?” Hughie stammered, his voice pitching higher with each word. “You—you can’t just—harder than a rock?!” His hands twitched reflexively toward his erection, which absolutely did not need more attention right now.

He darted a wide-eyed glance back at Butcher, his mouth opening and closing uselessly as he tried to form a coherent protest. “Look, I get it, we need the clothes, but—” He shot a pleading look at the woman, who was leaning against the doorframe, her teasing smile only growing wider.

Hughie swallowed hard, the nerves tightening his throat like a vice. “I don’t think you understand—I’m terrible at this stuff!” he hissed under his breath to Butcher, blue eyes filled with panic. “You—you’re the smooth one! I’m just the guy who makes it awkward and—God, could you not point out my—uh, situation?! Like, ever?”

The woman chuckled softly, her gaze flickering between them, clearly enjoying his embarrassment far too much.

“Seriously,” Hughie muttered, his voice barely audible as he darted a nervous glance toward her. “If this is your idea of helping, I’m gonna need a new partner.”

Normally, Butcher would probably not be inclined to take the woman up on her offer. Hell, since he’d lost Becca, he hadn’t been interested in seeing anyone else, let alone sleeping with anyone. Sure, there was a part of him that could understand why the younger male wasn’t the most comfortable with the whole thing. There was also a part of him that wanted to get those clothes, no matter what the cost might end up being.

“Course I got this.” Came the quick reply, his tone barely over a whisper. Reaching out with a hand, the raven haired Brit started pushing Hughie toward the open door and the woman. “Don’t worry ‘bout it so much, you’ll do 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒆..” The somewhat amused half grin grew a little wider across his lips.

Was it something he really wanted to do? Not particularly, though he was already bound and determined to get the clothes for both of them so they could 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 not have to go around in their birthday suits anymore. “‘Sides, from the looks of it, you’re already ‘arder than a fuckin’ rock, ‘n after we get the clothes, ya won’t ‘ave to worry ‘bout seein’ this beautiful bird ever again.”

As much as he’d tried to avoid looking anywhere but the younger male’s face, it was next to impossible to miss the fact that the kid had a boner. So, it was next to impossible for the raven haired Brit to 𝒏𝒐𝒕 bluntly point it out like he’d just done. There was only one surefire way of getting rid of it, as far as Butcher knew.

[accidentalheroproblems]

Hughie’s face felt like it was on fire, his breath hitching in his throat as Butcher’s words hit him with the weight of a freight train. The idea of “taking one for the team” made his stomach twist, and he glanced nervously at the woman, then back at Butcher’s amused grin.

“Yeah, well,” Hughie muttered, voice barely more than a squeak, “it’s not like I’m exactly itching to… you know, do this.” His hands twitched, still trying hopelessly to cover himself, though the warm night and his own nerves made that damn erection stubborn as hell.

The whisper about Annie sliced through him, a sharp reminder of everything he couldn’t risk. His blue eyes flickered toward Butcher with a silent plea, “I really can’t. Not her.”

He swallowed hard, cheeks burning brighter than ever, the awkwardness settling over him like a thick fog. “I’m just… not made for this kinda thing.”

Butcher’s casual dismissal of the whole scenario being between them—not to mention their straightness—gave Hughie a tiny flicker of relief, but it didn’t make the situation any less mortifying.

He shifted again, voice barely audible. “So… uh… you sure you’ve got this? ‘Cause I’m probably gonna make a mess of things.”

Just as he’d figured, the younger male was trying to keep from passing right on out. Another chuckle escaped past Butcher’s lips at the mere sight of it. If he’d had his phone on him, he would have more than likely pulled it out to snap a few pictures.

When he felt the woman’s fingers brushing against his toned arm, his dark hazel gaze shifted down slightly. The corners of his lips curved up a bit more into an even more amused grin, mixed in with the smirk. “𝑩𝒐𝒕𝒉 of us, eh?” That was a new one, though at the moment, he wasn’t exactly complaining.

Shifting his dark hazel gaze back toward Hughie, the grin/smirk widened bit more. “Oh, come on… Ya can take one for the team, mate. ‘Sides, it’ll get us the clothes.”

His tone was just barely over a whisper. “Not to mention your girl never ‘as to find out ‘bout it.”

If Becca had still been around, the raven haired Brit would have more than likely not even considered the woman’s offer. Hell, there was a small part of him that wasn’t exactly too thrilled with the idea, though he kept it hidden perfectly.

Turning his attention back to the woman, he grinned a little more, if that was even remotely possible. “That might be able to be arranged.”

Not that he and Hughie would be doing anything to each other. For starters, he wouldn’t be allowing it to happen, plus, they were both completely straight.

[accidentalheroproblems]

Hughie’s face deepened into a shade of red that felt like it could set the night on fire. He swallowed hard, eyes flickering nervously between the woman and Butcher’s amused smirk.

“Admirer? I—uh, I don’t think that’s exactly the word I’d use,” he stammered, voice cracking. His hands twitched uselessly, still trying to shield himself, though the persistent erection stubbornly refused to back down.

He shifted on the spot, knees weak, heart hammering like a drum. “I’m just… trying not to faint ” Hughie admitted with a nervous, helpless laugh.

The woman’s eyes sparkled as she cut in smoothly, voice low and teasing. She reached out, her fingers trailing along Butcher’s toned arm, muscles flexing beneath her touch. “ I want both of you. That’s part of the deal. And honestly, this one”—her gaze flicked back to Butcher, lips curving into a slow smile—“he’s absolutely irresistible.”

Hughie’s breath caught. His blue eyes went wide, mouth opening slightly, but no words came out. Heat flooded his cheeks again, hotter than before.

He leaned slightly toward Butcher, voice dropping to a barely audible whisper. “I... I can’t do this. Not because of me... it’s Annie.”

He glanced anxiously at Butcher, silently pleading for understanding as the woman’s smile grew wider, waiting for an answer.

Butcher shifted his dark hazel gaze between the woman and Hughie, his dark eyebrows raising with slight surprise mixed in with a bit of teasing humor. A deep chuckle escaped past his lips. “Fuckin’ ‘ell, Hughie.. Looks like ya got yourself a real admirer!”

If she could even be considered an admirer, that is. It was a little surprising to see the younger, possibly more timid male. The poor kid looked almost like he could—quite literally—pass out at any second.

Honestly, it was pretty 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 as far as the raven haired Brit was concerned. At the same time, it was a little weird, though it would certainly be interesting to see how the kid would be able to handle the whole thing.

At first glance, it might look as though Butcher didn’t have any freckles. Of course, if one looked close enough, they’d be able to see freckles covering his broad shoulders, somewhat muscular arms, and back. “‘N from the looks of it, she’s wantin’ ya pretty bad.”