#cridgens

[goodieghosty]

Unhinged husbands

[id-never-letyoudown]

Uhhhh part two of the rare pair part 1

"Sleep well, Dove?"

"It's too early for your nonsense." Henry complained, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He had not. Slept well, that is. It was the damn nightmares again. They always came this time of year.

Henry had already visited the field. That usually helped things, but not this time.

"Tell me about them."

"Them what?"

"The nightmares." Even though he already knew well enough what they were about. "The men." Wilbur already knew. He's been in Henry's head more times than he could count. He had to make sure he was the right one for the job, after all. He didn't dig through everything in that mess Henry called a mind. His thoughts were constantly all over the place. And why were there so many musicals and chemical compositions in that thing?

Besides, he needed Henry to trust him if this thing was going to work. Something told him digging around that brain of his wouldn't end well.

Henry paused, looking down at his steaming mug of coffee. "They were dear friends of mine. Lovers." He takes a sip, it's more bitter than usual. "I was the cause of their deaths. Though... you already knew that." His eyes flick up to meet Wilbur's over the rim of his mug. "Didn't you?"

"..."

"I knew I could feel something rooting around. You were scoping me out before we even formally met, weren't you?" Henry grins in victory, setting his coffee down with a satisfying 'clack' against the marble counter.

"Aren't you supposed to be pissed?"

"If anything I'm intrigued! Can you read everyone's minds?" He leaned against the counter, head propped in his hand. "Ooo-what else do you know about me? I want the details."

Wilbur snorted, "Course I can. And for the record I don't know everything about you. I stopped looking around after a bit."

"Oh? So I still got some secrets then?" Henry would have thought he'd have long since taken advantage of his abilities. Know him inside and out. "Huh, seems I've pegged you wrong."

"You couldn't peg me at all." He grins.

Henry only shrugged. And something told Wilbur that he didn't get the joke.

Wilbur clears his throat, "Anyway, uh, wanna hear about which of the Monroe brats isn't Gerald's? The answer may shock you." Like a damn click bait article.

Henry's eyes light up, a loud gasp escaping him. "I knew it!" He was always down for gossip. And a scandal like that? It was right up his alley.

Wilbur enjoyed watching the man lose his shit with every little Hatchetfield secret he told him. And there were a lot. He could tell Henry was plenty skeptical of him, but he was getting there. Little by little.

--

Henry walked into the kitchen to fetch some refreshments for his monthly 'date night' with John and Xander. Used to be bi-monthly. And before that it'd been weekly. Nowadays he found the pair trying to gently nudge him away. And normally it wouldn't have bothered him. But they hadn't started doing this until after he was let go from P.E.I.P. Which made him think.

And think.

And overthink.

He had no problem with leaving the relationship. If they were to simply ask him. But all these hints? He could do without. Xander kept trying to set him up on blind dates. And John was cold. Even when the three of them were intimate. Especially when the three of them were intimate.

It really got him thinking....

His hand barely touches his turtleneck. Was it... no, it couldn't possibly be the scars. John had plenty of his own. Although, baring witness to how Henry got them probably made that very, very different. And there was the nerve damage. And the pain. Which always got worse when there was a storm approaching.

John was his friend. He didn't want him thinking he was responsible for any of that. He should call him-

His phone began ringing, as if on cue. He fetches it from his pocket. Of all the coincidences-

He answers it immediately. "I was just thinking about you, say we really ought to have a chat when you two get here-" his stomach sinks at the reply. "Oh... so, you can't make it then?... No, no. I understand. I hope you two have fun." And he hung up.

He looks at the bottle in his hand. At the neatly set dinner table. At the flowers he picked himself. Apparently the date the three of them made their 'throuple', as the kids called it, official wasn't all that important to them.

Such a shame he had to spend the day alone.

Or... not.

"... Wilbur, how do you like your steak?"

Wilbur was always there, even when he thought he wasn't. He didn't know why he felt comfort in that.

--

"Who was that?" Xander commented, fixing his tie in the mirror.

"Henry. I was telling him about how we couldn't make... it...." He trailed off when he walked into their bedroom and saw his husband getting dressed. "Where are you going?'

Xander paused, standing up straight. "Couldn't make it next month, right?... You told him next month, right?"

John pressed his lips into a fine line. "Iiiii thought you said-"

"John!" Xander dropped his tie. "Why would I tell you to tell him that we wouldn't be able to make it on the three of us' anniversary?"

"It was a mistake-I'll just call him back real quick." John did not want to face his husband's wrath, he could already feel his eyes melting the back of his skull as he dialed Henry's number. "It's just going straight to voicemail-"

"Get dressed, we're going anyways. And y o u can explain the mix-up."

--

"Where'd you learn to cook?" Wilbur asked him. Not that he needed to eat. Or had a great sense of taste nowadays. But it was nice to have something to chew on now and again. And it smelled amazing.

"Oh, my aunt. This is all from her recipe book." He seemed rather proud of that fact.

"Well, safe to say those two are missing out."

Henry hums. He's been quiet all through dinner. Still down about being cancelled on with such short notice. "You know what? They are." He stabs his fork a little too forcefully, and sends his mashed potatoes straight in the air. And right smack in his face.

They both pause.

And then Wilbur starts laughing. Which sets Henry into his own fit of giggling.

--

"Do you hear that?" Xander paused on Henry's doorstep, hearing the laughter coming from inside.

"Doesn't sound like he's alone." John muses, trying to see if he could sneak a peek through one of the windows. He can see Henry fine. But whoever it is he's with is just out of sight.

"John!" Xander whisper shouts, tugging on his husband's sleeve. "You can't just spy on our friend like that!"

"Aren't you curious?" John looks back at Xander.

"I-well-yes! But not enough to spy on him!"

The two continue to bicker quietly, or, they thought they were being quiet.

--

Wilbur looks over his glass, humming. "You've got guests." The curtains then shut themselves. It was a good thing neither of them could see him. He doubted seeing the former colonel would sit well with either of them. Especially John.

"What-" Henry looks towards the door, face now free of the mess from before. He can hear exactly who it is too. And it both confuses and ticks him off.

"And they know you're not alone. They won't buy it if you say you are." Wilbur stands up, "Gotta make them leave somehow."

Henry wracks his brain for an idea. And seeing as he's well into that bottle of wine, they're not really thought out. "... You can change your appearance, right?"

Wilbur locks eyes with Henry, a grin splitting across his face.

--

"Just knock."

"You knock-"

Henry opens the door a crack, taking a peek at the two of them. "... I thought you two couldn't make it." He responds plainly, not even greeting them.

"There was a mix-up." Xander explained, elbowing his husband to elaborate.

"I meant to tell you that we wouldn't be able to make it next time." John tells him.

"Well, that's unfortunate." Henry wraps his fingers around the door, glancing back into the house. "Because I ended up taking your advice, Xander. And I think it'd be terribly awkward of me to explain to my date."

Xander is equal parts thrilled and... well, confused. Thrilled because he wanted Henry to have someone to lean on when they weren't around. And confused because Henry had always outright refused whenever Xander brought up mixers or blind dates. "That's wonderful, Hen! Do we know who it is?"

"I ah-well-" Henry blinked, shit. He didn't even know who Wilbur was going to come around that corner looking like-

"Gary Goldstein, attorney at law!" Henry nearly jumped when the man announced himself. His face flushed. He let the door open fully, and there he was. The supposed Gary Goldstein. A faithful rendition, he'd say.

It was an... awkward conversation to say the least. When Henry finally managed to turn the two away he locked the door behind them.

"Whatthefuckwasthat?"

"You didn't tell me w h o to look like! I just chose a rando guy!"

"I... goddamnit." Henry stood there, trying not to laugh at the thoughts that had to be bouncing around in John and Xander's head right about now. "At least you chose someone at least somewhat attractive."

"Yeah, cuz talking non-stop about audits is so attractive." Wilbur runs a hand through his hair, the illusion dropping almost instantly.

Henry smiles, wine getting to his head. "That's much better."

"What?"

"... Hm? Oh, nothing. This was fun. Should do it again sometime."

--

"You're really going to make an entire plotline-"

"Is that what we're calling our 'reality scheming'?"

"-be quiet, are you really creating an entire plot based off of one thing this Matthews guy said to you?"

".... Yes, of course. Naturally. I'm calling it 'The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals'... hm, sure is a mouthful. What do you think?" Henry slides over his tablet to show Wilbur, who doesn't know if he should be impressed or not.

He rolls his eyes, leaning over to get a good look at it. "... You know, I think the big man might actually get a kick out of this."

"Speaking of, am I ever going to meet this 'Wiggley' character?" Henry slides his tablet back, tapping on the screen before resuming his scribbling.

"Depends on how well you perform, Dove-"

"Why do you call me that?" Henry looked up, reading glasses askew. He pulls them off to clean them up, fetching a cloth from his coat pocket.

"What, you don't like it?" Like that'd stop him. Wilbur watches Henry. He can't decide if he likes him better with or without the glasses-

"I just find it odd, is all. I don't mind it." He slides them back on, looking back up at him once again. "You called me that the first time we met-"

"That wasn't the first time we met."

"Excuse me?"

Wilbur is no longer sitting on the table. Henry thinks he's up and left until he finds him sitting in the living room, just barely visible from the kitchen. He gets up and follows him with a huff.

"I watched you for a while, before that day. I saw a lot of things." He chuckles, "Lotta embarrassing things too. But that's not the point." He pops his feet up on the coffee table. "I saw you with that bird a while back. You were talking to it. Thought it was kinda kooky, kinda sweet."

Henry has to think for a while, and then his face softens. "The bird you saw was one I nursed back to health." He sighs, walking up to him and kicking his legs so he's forced to move them. "Get your damn feet off my mahogany." He then walks past him, just to sit on the other end of the couch.

Wilbur scowls. He could kill Henry so easily, doesn't he know that? "How kind."

"It was either that or put it out of its misery." Henry makes himself comfortable, leaning back on the couch.

"I doubt you'd have the guts to do that."

"You don't think I'm capable of mercy killing? That's laughable." Henry eyes him, "Look in my mind and find out. Go on. You have my permission."

Wilbur did. And it hit him all at once. It wasn't that the scene shocked him. He just hadn't been prepared for the rush of emotion.

He saw Henry's hands. Injecting something into an IV drip. Shaking as they did so. And a man. So pale and sickly. Just lying on the bed. But he was smiling. And that's all he could see before Henry pushed him out.

"Promise me something, Wilbur."

He looked at him. So he actually was going to use that damn condition then? "... What?"

"Don't ever underestimate me or think me incapable." He curled up on the couch, looking ready to settle in for some sleep. "Promise me, Wilbur." His eyes weren't leaving him anytime soon.

"... I promise."

Henry seemed satisfied, now closing his eyes. "Alexa, play my Sleep playlist."

As soft music filled the room, Wilbur realized that maybe he bit off more than he could chew. Henry was chosen for a reason. He had to remember that.

He also realized it really didn't take long for Henry to fall asleep. At all. Out like a light.

Wilbur gets up, not even thinking when he takes the professor's glasses off for him. "Dumbass."

[youregoingtobe-thedeathofme]

  ❛   i want you. and the thought of anyone else having you is like a knife twist in my dark soul.   ❜   -hi ye idk w h y but this gave me? Cridgens vibes and I cannot rest

Cross was there, in the corner. Brooding. A bright green martini swishing in his glass the only colour in the void he had brought henry to. He wanted desperately to stand, but he kept himself seated so he wouldnt lose his temper. He didnt want to hurt him, but seeing, hearing how Henry had spoken to john made him seethe.

“I want you.” Cross admitted, leaning forward in his seat. Henry said nothing, typical. “And the thought of anyone else having you...” his voice got dangerously low, as he stared down his lover, wondering why he was so teary. “Is like a knife twist in my-“ he paused, the sudden shift of hope in Henry’s bound demeanour making him rethink his words. “Dark soul.”

And yet again, Henry said nothing. Pathetic. A gag is no excuse for that kind of behaviour, really.

[joaquinterrero-archive]

if you are gay. you will be drawing professor hidgens.

[goodieghosty]

Fck it, Cridgens doodle

[goodieghosty]

Your honor I love them <3

[id-never-letyoudown]

Rare pair hell below (plz work readmore) part 2

Henry Hidgens didn't have the best childhood. Being shipped off to live with his aunt and uncle after coming out to his parents and then disowned does not make for a happy nor healthy mind. He was sixteen when it happened. His only light in those trying times were his aunt and uncle. They supported him. No matter what he wished to do.

He wanted to learn an instrument? Sure. He wanted to take up songwriting? Absolutely. Shoot a gun? You bet. And Henry was quite ambitious to say the least. He dabbled in a little bit of everything while he lived with them. It had been the first time he'd been allowed to truly express himself.

And they accepted him. Sure they had to get used to a few things, they'd sometimes use the wrong name-but they were always quick to correct themselves. And that was all he could ask for. His parents never bothered to try. Last he heard they were telling people that their only daughter had died and they had no sons.

Henry wanted to do big things, make a name for himself doing what he loved. And he just happened to love many things-and if you asked him he excelled at them all. Of course.

It took some string pulling and a lot of extra credit and the like, but Henry had managed to get himself accepted into a nice college outside of Hatchetfield. He never could decide on what he wanted to do, so again he tried a bit of everything that tickled his fancy.

He was particularly gifted in biology. Anything to do with the human body. And had a special interest in things that had adverse effects on them as well. Diseases, plagues-you name it.

His presentations drew a lot of attention. Attention that brought him to the door of the P.E.I.P. Not literally to their door, of course. Especially when he moved back and resumed his studies in Hatchetfield. They were interested in him. His intellect. And thought he could help them. The fact that he called Hatchetfield his home was another point of interest. And the fact that his last remaining family had died in a freak accident months prior made him stand out. A smart man who knew how to handle a gun and who wouldn't be missed if he should disappear? He was practically made for their organization.

Henry declined their initial offer, having just landed a position on a team of scientists currently studying a disease he was very curious about-and just so happened to be immune to.

He had made a lot of friends at Hatchetfield Community College-a few of which became his lovers. They would all go to the football field at five o'clock to catch up every day. Always. Henry had been a little impatient and wasn't as thorough as he should have been during his decontamination procedure one day, eager to see his boys.

He infected every one of them. And had to watch them each die, one by one. Comforting them while searching for a cure. He still visits that campus in the anniversary of the start of their collective deaths, because having to go back days in a row would have been too much for him.

He ended up joining P.E.I.P shortly after that. He wasn't at the top of their ranks, sure. But he was known as a good marksman and the person you wanted to see if you needed some special equipment. But his speciality was theorizing. Because he had this uncanny ability of almost always being right.

It was discovered that he had foresight. Not the most powerful they've seen, but a good asset nonetheless. This is what made him a valuable member of P.E.I.P.

It should be noted that Henry, though preferring very much to work alone, had grown incredibly fond of a certain general. The two had even-and continue to-hooked up on several occasions. Henry had gotten a little attached and was hurt when he discovered McNamara was marrying his good friend Xander-but he supported them both fully. The three do still fool around together and Henry even became the surrogate for their son, in exchange for "a bottle of brandy for every stretchmark" and "never ask me for anything ever again".

His time at P.E.I.P was filled with adventure and excitement. He loved every minute of it.

And then the fatal day happened.

Henry was well aware that they had lost an agent to the Black and White. But that didn't stop his curiosity. He swore it was like it was calling to him. The portal. He'd dream about it. Sometimes he found himself passing by the lab it was kept in and stopping for no reason other than to gaze longingly at it.

He didn't have the clearance to venture into the Black and White, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't come up with a good enough reason for he himself to go.

And then one day he just so happened to find the masterkey card just... lying on his desk. Like it was waiting for him. And when he grabbed it it felt as though someone was standing right over him. Just this great, overwhelming presence. But a... welcomed one. Which wouldn't make sense to him until later.

He had to sneak in when everyone else had gone. But once he made it, once he stepped into the Black and White for the very first time-he fucking ate the primordial pavement and cracked his helmet.

And just as the panic was about to set in he heard it. A man's voice. One he's heard before but could only now make out.

It'd felt like he'd been wandering around that great expanse of nothingness for days-it had only been minutes-but seeing this stranger, and knowing he must have so much to tell him, made it all worth it.

"Was wondering when you were gonna get the hints, Dove." The man spoke, wearing far too much denim for Henry's tastes-but somehow he made it work. "Bet you got a lotta questions."

"You have no idea-" where did he go-oh!

Henry's helmet was gone now. And he could feel the man's warm breath against his ear. And feel him right behind him. Practically touching. "Oh but I do." When he turned around the man was gone. Henry only had to look back to find him in his original position. "And I can answer them all."

".... There's a catch, isn't there." It wasn't a question. Henry knew he needed to leave through the portal soon, unless he wanted to stay there trapped forever. "What do you want?"

"Smart, Dove. See, that's why I like you. Straight to the point. You know exactly what you want." Oh please, it took him years to settle on a major- "It just wasn't plain to see. Power."

"Power?"

"Power. Fame. Recognition. And everything in between. I can give you it all. All you have to do is shake my hand."

"I shake your hand and I become a pawn for one of your lords, is that right?" Henry eyes him skeptically, but the offer was tempting. After all-

"You know apotheosis is already upon us. Might as well rig the show while there still is one."

Henry stares at the stretched out hand, his own twitching at his side. It was true. He's seen it. Several Its, actually. So many outcomes. So many branching realities. Lost when he woke up. But coming back to the surface the longer he stayed here.

"I..." He reached for his hand, eyes finding bright, apple green. He saw a promise. A promise for power. For the ability to set the pieces wherever he wished and watch them fall. For everything he could ever wish for and... more? More.

Henry wanted so much more than what he'd been given. What he worked for.

And just as he was about to lay his palm down he was yanked back. Something had pulled on his lifeline, sending him stumbling back.

"Henry!" The general shouted behind him, and just as he looked back, to give the stranger one more look, he was gone. "Henry what were you thinking?!"

"No..." Henry had to be dragged back through the portal, kicking and screaming. "No-let me go! Let me-" and then the crying began. He couldn't stop the tears from streaming down his cheeks. When he finally stopped resisting McNamara let him sink to the floor, in front of the deactivated portal. And the promises it held.

"You should have let me go." His voice cracked, slumping foward. Black strands of hair fell in his face, obscuring his vision. Not that the tears weren't already doing that. "You should have-" he hiccupped.

A hush fell over the room. An odd tingling sensation ran over him. Similar to walking out into the heat after spending hours in a cold theater. His hair, strand by strand. From root to tip. Began to turn a silvery white.

Needless to say P.E.I.P didn't let him go for a long while after that. They interrogated him. Poked and prodded. Took samples of his hair. Something told Henry he needed them to think he was just slightly unhinged. Just a bit. Just enough to get them to believe he wasn't a threat.

And when they did let him go, they called it 'retirement' and gave him a new identity. And a job as a professor. Just to be safe. So no one would ask questions. He wasn't particularly happy about it. And stormed out of the facility in a huff. During a big storm.

McNamara was right on his heels. "This is just a precaution, Henry-"

"A precaution?! Putting foam on sharp corners in a precaution-this is just-u g h!" Henry threw his hands up, already soaked to the bone. White hair sticking to his face. Damn he needed a haircut. "This is wrong and you know it!"

"You entered the portal without permission-do you know what could have happened if I didn't come back?!" He had to shout just to be heard over the sound of pouring rain.

"This place was like home to me, you know that-and I make one mistake and that's it?! Poof! How fair is that?!"

"I'm trying to convince them to let you back on, I just need you to lay low-"

"Lay low?!" He laughed bitterly, pushing his hair out of his eyes. You couldn't even tell the difference between the rain and his tears. "I'm Henry 'Hidgens' now! What the fuck kind of name is that? And sixty-three?! R e a l l y?! I don't even look that old! Who's going to believe that?!"

He spread his arms out in a wide arc, "You're all going to regret not having me here, just you wait and see. You're going to come crawling to ol' Henry Hidgens, Biology professor at Hatchetfield Community College for help one day and you know what he's going to say? Fuck y-"

Thunder shook the area, lightning lighting up the sky in a crooked arc. And then, in the blink of an eye, Henry was struck.

That's what he got for ranting in the middle of a storm.

Anyways, when he was given the okay to return home he spent months crafting his new life. Hey, if he was going to be given a new identity he might as well have fun with itm and he still had to heal from that lightning strike.

He bore a scar that branched like veins all down across his body. Staring from the left side of his neck, and down to his right ankle. He liked to play up the 'unhinged and questionable professor' bit a lot. And loved to pepper in the very real fact that he'd been struck by lightning.

Hell of a thing to brag about.

It had been nearly half a year now since then. He's settled into his new life nicely. Becoming Hatchetfield's known hermit of a whacky professor.

Lately he'd been having a feeling he was being watched. And sometimes, sometimes, he'd see him. The man he now knew as Wilbur Cross. The agent P.E.I.P had lost. They never told him what actually happened though.

He had just come in from his garden one day when he felt it. That familiar presence.

Henry set his basket of apples down. His aunt and uncle had owned this house before, and planted a nice garden-which had been neglected after their passing, but Henry was tending it now. They had a few apple trees as well. Henry planned on making a pie.

That presence was still there. Bearing over him. He didn't know if he was just being paranoid or hopeful or what. Regardless-he went behind his bar, took up his shotgun, and returned shortly after.

And when he did he froze. Because there he was, sitting on the counter. Eating one of the apples. At first the shock was enough to make his jump and aim right at him-not that it bothered this man to have a gun trained on him.

"Wilbur..." Henry didn't know what he felt exactly when he saw him, but suffice to say he was overwhelmed. He lowered his shotgun.

"Hey there, Dove. Ya miss me-"

"I accept."

"Whoa now-at least let me do the pitch!"

"You already did that, remember? And I accept, on one condition."

Wilbur's brow cocked, "Who said you could make conditions?"

"I did. It's an easy thing, really." He came closer, just as Wilbur hopped down from the counter. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey, sliding it over to himself. "Every promise you make to me, you have to keep. And, we seal the deal with a drink."

"You trying to butter me up with booze and apples?"

"The apples are a coincidence."

"A n d you're making demands of me? On top of pulling a g u n on me?.... You know, I think this might be the start of a great partnership. Pass me a shot glass-" he saw Henry pop the lid off the bottle and take a drink with hardly a grimace. His heart would have skipped. If it still beat. "... damn, Dove."

"So, we got a deal or what?"

"First of all, my line." Wilbur grabs the bottle from him, fingers lingering a few seconds too long. "Second, you bet your sweet ass."

They drank together. And thus started their partnership.

[id-never-letyoudown]

Told u I'd write self indulgent shit(lmao readmores don't work on mobile rip)

Henry Hidgens x Wilbur Cross. Because I don't have nearly enough rarepairs and we can also all blame @youregoingtobe-thedeathofme

--

It was quiet in the professor's home. Far too quiet. Yet somehow it was comfortable. Because Henry knew he wasn't alone. He could feel that pair of eyes on him, and he thought he knew exactly who they belonged to.

"If you insist on sneaking around you can at least hand me my drink." He chuckled, wiping his hands on his apron. The kitchen smelled of cinnamon and brandy, and nice, tart green apples. Apples he was still snacking on, mind you. It felt warm. Cozy. It wasn't often Henry baked. But when he did it was a nice treat.

He could hear his drink being picked up, the ice clinking against the glass. "Feel free to pour one for yourself. I have plenty." You know, because he'd certainly need it for whenever the world turned to shit. "Ah, but not the red. I'm saving that."

"You better like apple pie, after-" the twitch was minute, barely noticable. That head of hair absolutely did Not belong to who he thought he was speaking to. He made himself relax, clearing his throat. "After all the trouble I had to go through."

John set the glass down, right beside the pie that was still cooling. And a second still in the oven. To say John didn't notice him tensing up would have been a mistake on his part.

"'Fraid I don't have time to have a sit down and chat." That was never good. "I gotta ask you some questions, Hen."

Henry's interest was piqued, brow cocked at his long time friend and former partner. "Oh no, what'd I do now?" He spat sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Is this about my search history? I knew something felt buggy. PEIP's been rooting through my things again, haven't they? Keep at it. It'll only make my security stronger." He waved a serving knife in his direction, tsking.

"Nothing like that." John chuckled. Henry really hadn't changed. Well, let's let him believe that. "I'm talking about last week's storm."

"You mean the one that came out of nowhere and damn near tore Hatchetfield apart? Heard on the news there was a mudslide and everything." He took up his drink, "I had a hell of a time cleaning up my garden." A flat out lie. Henry's home had been virtually untouched by that night's wicked storm. There was good reason for that.

One he wasn't about to let John in on.

"Our specialist says this spot was right in the eye of the storm. Now, this may just be a coincidence. But with this being Hatchetfield, and with it showing so suddenly and causing so much damage..."

Henry couldn't help but laugh, "Do you think I had anything to do with it? I'm not a wizard, John." Oh but he did. He had everything to do with it. With some help of course. They had so much to do with that night. And so much fun doing it.

"Course not. I just wanted to make sure everything was good on your end. Thought-"

"Thought it had something to do with the Black and White? John, you know if I was worried about that I would have called you. Nothing's gone amiss, of course not yet. But if it does I'll certainly let you know."

John looked at him. Really, really looked at him. He could tell something wasn't right. Something was up. Since when did Henry set out two sets of plates and glasses when he didn't know he was coming over? But he could just be reaching there. Or hell, maybe his good friend had a hot date coming for a hot slice. Of pie.

"Right. I need to be going." John pat Henry on the shoulder. "Xander wants you to call him sometime. Don't forget."

He nodded, grabbing a slice of green apple to munch on as he waved him off, only waiting until he was certain John was gone to relax. "Does no one call ahead anymore?" He mumbled, turning back to face the counter.

He found his lips met with something soft, and the surprised gasp that left him took any shocked proclamation right out of his mouth. Along with his treat. Which the apple fiend was now snacking on after pulling away from the kiss, rather smugly too.

"Wil!" Henry's cheeks flushed, wanting to scold the man but for what? He rather liked this spontaneity. And Wilbur knew it.

"Miss me already?" Cross chuckled, licking his lips. "It's only been what? A few hours?"

"Far too long and you know it." Henry abandoned his drink in favor of wrapping his arms around the man before him. "I take it everything's set then?" He says, squeezing him just about as tight as he could comfortably manage.

"Poor little dove." Cross ran his fingers through silver hair, bending down to plant his face right atop Henry's head. He hummed, "You know it. Decoy's been picked. Plan's all set. They'll be so focused on the prophet that by the time our old friends at PEIP realize something's up, we'll have already won."

Henry turned his head up to look at him, met with another kiss. He smiled, "You know, you've been awfully affectionate since I agreed to bring Him into this world."

"You deserve it, babe. Can't thank you enough. We've worked so hard for this. And now? We're so close."

He pulled back, taking to holding Cross' hand instead. "It does make me wonder... if it were anyone else, would you still-"

"Fuck no."

That was certainly abrupt.

"Henry, He brought you to me for a reason. You remember? When you first stepped into the Black and White? I knew," he took his face into his hands, "I knew from the moment I saw you. Fuck, dove. You're like-like the greatest gift I could have gotten. And you don't even need to be all wrapped up in a pretty lil bow.... that would be nice though." He smirked when Henry chuckled.

"Oh I can't wait to unleash all manner of hell onto this plane when He's born..." There was a slight pause, another him leaving the professor. It almost made Cross start to worry, until. "How can we be so sure it took though?"

"Did you see that storm? Think it's safe to assume you're good and knocked up." And the way he said that came out as some mix of proud and smug.

"Well, no harm in making sure of things, you know. Could always go for a few more goes between the sheets, see if we can conjure up another storm for the hell of it." Now that got Cross' attention. "Just one thing, I'm not naming our child 'Wiggly', that's heinous."

"I-Henry you can't rename our savior."

"Oh hush, why don't we discuss this over some pie? Hm? It's fresh and hot."

".... You made this to butter me up, didn't you?"

"Nooooooooo..."

[id-never-letyoudown]

If work shuts down I promise I'll spend the off time writing modern!Curtwen, updating my Geraskier fic, and doing more indulgent Cridgens.

Mostly Cridgens

Because love it

[joaquinterrero-archive]

Professor cridgens!!!!!!!