heavyweighthappy
In the clearing stands a boxer
Indie Happy Hogan from the MCU {Follows back from CupcakesMuses}Rules | Verses | Thread Tracker | Tags
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"Okay. Okay..." Happy looked at his phone, putting her on speaker before navigating over to his GPS and giving her the pin of his location. He wasn't the best with technology, but he knew, mostly, his own phone. Important stuff.
What he didn't know was what the fuck was laying infront of his car.
"I think she's dead." Happy said again, still panicked, but regretful. "I-- She was close to Tony and Pepper's property. I was tailing her and then lost her... Then she just ran infront of my car. I wasn't-- I wasn't going fast..."
She was shocked he could keep talking for as long as he had without stopping to take a breath.
The onslaught of information made her pause and try to put the pieces of what he was telling her into something useful. "Hill's not answering?" That was the strangest part. Fury was known to go dark, and sure Hill had as well but never both at once.
"Ha--Hogan! Stop. Take a long slow breath." She instructed. "Insurance isn't going to cover it but I'm going to come and get you. Send me your location and I'll be there as soon as I can. Do not call anyone else just yet." They would have to loop Murdock in but Natasha wanted to get eyes on the scene first.
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"'Course I don't mind... S'why I asked ya."
Happy smirked, pulling off his sweatshirt, then his pants and underwear in one go, tossing all of it in the hamper. He steadied himself against the wall to pull of his socks, having left his running shoes at the doorway of the apartment.
"It's gonna be a cold shower..." Happy called, warning Cam. He was hot and sweaty, so he wasn't going to take a hot shower. It was a little bit of an after thought, usually inviting Cameron to join him in the shower. Because he found it sexy. But maybe a post workout shower wasn't the best idea.
"You can go finish your soup if you'd rather." Happy chuckled, expecting Cam to leave the bathroom at the thought of a cold shower.
“Hey, I dunno anythin’ about nutrition,” he laughed and hugged Happy tightly. Cam didn’t care what Happy looked like, but he could tell his partner felt happier when he had an active lifestyle.
Campbell sometimes thought about joining him. He could probably use some movement as well, but running wasn’t his kind of thing.. Maybe yoga?
Happy’s question pulled him from his thoughts and his face flushed a little. “Ah, eh, join. Ef ye dun mind.” He squeezed his hand and joined him in the bathroom, grabbing towels for the both of them.
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"No, you need to put on something nice. Did you not hear me? See, I know you can cause of your--" Happy shut the door and gestured to his head, "--ya know. Put on something nice. Like Temple going-- or Church going nice."
Happy remembered May was very Italian and though they hadn't talked about it more likely she'd been Catholic than anything else. He idly wondered if Peter had been to church much as a kid. Or now. Happy didn't attend synagogue anymore, just too damn busy, but he made time to visit his parents' graves. Well, that and watching giant space monsters nearly kill your boss was enough to make anyone question their previously casual faith.
"We're gonna go visit our parents like good kids, then we're going out for your birthday lunch somewhere nice."
He had, perhaps, known that Happy would most definitely show up regardless. So he’d dragged his sad little arse out of bed, and was in the process of pulling on normal human clothes. He’d dithered over the idea of putting on the Spider-man suit underneath them, but in the end had gone with just shoving it into his requisite backpack. Honestly, he had been considering switching to a messenger bag, to stop making him look so young, but - backpacks were just immensely more convenient…
He’d known that Happy was in the building, so tuned into the sound of his footfalls, even if he did his very best to not listen past the orbit of his immediate door. They weren’t senses he could exactly switch off, especially with people he cared about. Flinching at the bang - Happy would’ve not even needed to knock - he groaned, finished pulling on his socks, and padded over to let him in.
“Just need to put my shoes on.” he groused.
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Happy pulled opened the door after a chorus of several locks, "It's Harold."
"And literally no one calls me that anymore. Get inside before you get me evicted." Happy raised his arm for her to duck under and inside before shutting the door and locking it all back up.
"Habib? Hans? Seriously?"
//@heavyweighthappy you're first - Alice Parker//
"Hello? Haaaappppyyyyy-" She rang the doorbell once more, staring into the camera outside his door, "You can't ignore me Hobert! Wait that's Hobie's full name-- Howard? Harvey? Hank?"
She groaned and stepped away from the door, "I'm just gonna keep shouting random names until you come out- Henry? Hugo? Hans? Habib? Hugh? Hector? Herber-"
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"Okay. Good. That's great." Happy motioned for them to get going, holding out his arm for Peter to come closer, walk through the door and let them out. The poor kid was struggling, more than Happy ever realized. It's fine. Sure, kid.
"I can help you with that, you know. I'm not big brain, but I'm here when you need me. It's important to me that you know that." Happy was sure Peter was at odds with himself like he couldn't imagine. He was sure Tony had the hubris not to be so heavily weighed down as Peter... The man had given his address on national news for godssake. Peter didn't want anyone getting hurt because of him. Because of what happened to May.
When the kid came closer again, Happy put his hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. Maybe he should just invite the kid to move in. He wasn't such a bad houseguest. May was messier than the kid had been. It wasn't Peter's bras hanging off his boflex machine. But that might be over reaching. Peter was barely accepting a fridge as it was.
“Thanks, Happy.” it came out a whisper. He was so hungry, just, all the time, in a way he’d never really felt before. They’d had lean times, him and May, of course, and being Spider-Man with his enhanced metabolism meant he needed a bunch more food than any normal person would need. He’d gotten used to drinking unholy amounts of water to try to fill the growling inside him, but it wasn’t like it was working well..
“Um, I got some weekend stuff. Working at Mr Delmar’s and um, I do some pizza delivery stuff,” he admitted, “Been trying to sit my uh - my LSATs at the same time, get my GED, so it’s all a bit uh… yeah, y'know, it’s fine.”
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Happy didn't text again, instead showing up at Peter's apartment in the allotted time he had mentioned before. It made him sad that Peter was so dismissive of himself. But he understood now, the pressure the kid put himself under. Why he had made that request of Doctor Strange in the first place. The kid was too damn good for his own good. Stubborn too. Maybe that's why Happy liked him so much. It wasn't just Tony that Peter reminded him of.
"Peter!" Happy banged on the door, as if he 'knocked' any other way. "Happy birthday and get your ass dressed. We're going to lunch and then we're going to the cemetery. So wear something nice!" Happy ordered firmly, then turned around, clasping his hands together and smiled at the old woman passing down the hall, giving him a rather suspicious look.
"Nice morning?" He spoke to her kindly, as if he hadn't just been yelling and pounding on the door behind him.
whomuses:
He stared at that, unsure how to feel about the words scrolling past. His throat bobbed. College was still… he wanted to go to MIT. He had a pipe dream that he wasn’t quite willing to give up yet. He’d get his GED and then - then he could maybe… he chewed at his lip, unsure what to send back.
[txt] I guess I’m 18 now so it’s more of an option.
Shit! Why did he send that? Dumbass! He wanted to smack himself in the head, sinking back to sit on the edge of his bed. God, he was being a needy idiot lately.
[text] Eight teen? When did that happen? You had a birthday and didn’t say anything? When was this?
Happy wasn’t big on birthdays either. After Richie had died, they swung too extreme for a little boy. Either they got almost ignored entirely or Mom did too much and ruined it by crying and wishing his big brother was there to see it. Well, little Harold did, too, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He didn’t have parties when he was a teenager, just grabbed a friend and went to the movies and spent the day at the arcade.
Happy turned off his text to speak at the red light and had FRIDAY pull up Peter’s file. Well… He wouldn’t say anything. If Peter didn’t want a big deal, he wouldn’t do it. He’d buy him lunch and dessert if he wanted it (he probably would with the way that kid ate) and maybe something new that he needed or wanted. That apartment was so old Happy half doubted it even had internet at all.
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"You got angry and you got defensive... and you got reckless." Happy informed him, reminded him that he hadn't forgotten why they were there. "And you're gonna be cleaning my apartment for three months to work off the stuff I gotta pay for that you damaged."
It was a little more lenient than it maybe even should have been. Happy's apartment was pretty damn clean, thanks to his rather minimal living. And the fact that he was a workaholic. But he knew 'cleaning' and 'months' were probably enough to sound like corporal punishment to a teenager. May would find out, probably from the school if Happy didn't tell her first. He was sure Peter would have enough teenage problems to deal with.
"Let's go home, Pete. Okay?" Happy moved his hand over Peter's back, who seemed like he was completely exhausted by all of this. The sooner the kid got home, the sooner he could sleep it off, hopefully, and they could have a better conversation.
If he’d been more with it, Peter might have been embarrassed. Or he would have found it funny, how big tough happy with his grumpy exterior, was being so gentle with him. Maybe he would have wondered about whether he’d had to do the same thing for Mr Stark.
Right now, he realy did not care that much about any of that. He just focused on grounding himself, on the steady beat of Happy’s heart, the man so immensely alive and just - solid. It was a great grounding mechanism, honestly.
His chest was aching less, now, following the breathing he could hear, the whoosh and rush of Happy’s steady lungs, the air that was deep in him, that no normal person would hear. He followed it, feeling utterly exhausted, and so sick of his own power and strength. Whilst he didn’t miss the asthma or the weakness, being able to just - break down a wall or shatter his friend’s hand if he didn’t constantly keep a lid on himself was… exhausting.
And he chuckled weakly, at those words. Yeah, May more than Happy…
“M'sorry.” he said, thickly. “I’m… being an asshole, I dunno why…”
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"Right," Happy spoke shortly, not wanting another argument but still obviously irritated that she was treating him, he thought, like the enemy because he was on the good guy's side quite adamantly. Which made him want to leave Peter even less. But she had that hypocratic oath, didn't she? She wouldn't let anyone hurt Peter while he was handing off some poison or whatever to a Stark Labs' intern.
He made his calls, keeping as straight forward and no nonsense as possible. He kept Peter's name out of it. He called Pepper first to clear everything, only mentioned the kid to her and no one else. He paced, sipped his coffee and after confirming someone was on their way, he finally sat down again and seemed to relax. As much as Happy could relax. It was more of a exhaustion washing over him again as his gaze settled on Peter.
Seeing Peter like this brought on the feeling of seeing Tony, wasted away from starvation in space, so vulnerable, asleep. That same helplessness was back that sat heavy in his chest. The same feeling of abject failure, not only then but when Tony was recovering from his imprisonment in Afghanistan. He should have been with him.
He reached over, taking Peter's hand gently. Strangely enough, there was little comfort knowing he'd saved Peter's life by getting him here in time.
“On the table.” with his wallet, keys, and the other bits she’d rescued before putting them in to wash. She had a pretty good washing machine setup here - she had to, after all the blood and other stuff she had to deal with. So this wouldn’t be a problem to get sorted. Her eyes kept flickering over to the sleeping kid on the bed, the steady rise and fall of his chest, making sure he was still okay. Recovering. That was what really mattered. Everything would be different now, but she was pretty sure Peter would pull through.
“You’ll have to meet them downstairs. Nobody can be allowed to know where I am.” she said, clear and blunt, sipping at her own coffee. “It’s too much of a risk.”
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He knew, even with his internal doubts, that what Happy wanted to do was kind. That he wanted to help, to keep Peter healthy, to … let him live. Let him live safely and - and not like this half-starved animal he felt like a lot of the time. But his brain was still all wrapped up in thoughts of May, and he wanted to at least have some independence, when it came down to it. He’d been doing okay, right? With everything? Happy was just … this tenuous link to his old self. A frightening thing, the man who didn’t know him now knowing him again…
And even now it was obvious - because he had damaged some memories. But at least there were some there, that was - that was good, that there was at least some memories that Happy could cherish. He thought of what May would say about him, doing this… fuck. What was it - he’d heard her say it to people at the shelter all the time? Accepting help is not a moral failure… he sniffed sharply and then stood up. A little too fast, swaying, but trying to be determined.
“Okay, um, I - I’m ready to go. If - if you want to.” he wiped at his eyes, trying to be surreptitious.
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heretoboogie:
He’d had a timer count down to Happy’s usual time of arrival. As if he’d have been able to stop crying on demand. Either way, there was no hiding it now. Although he tensed up initially, Cam got less tense in Happy’s arms soon enough, all but hiding himself into his embrace.
Talking was almost impossible. Sobs kept cutting through his sentences. Sometimes, he thought he was finally calm enough to speak, only to dissolve into sobbing that bordered on hysterics the moment he tried to form words.
“I ca-an’t dae et,” he managed to blurt out eventually. “I c-c- Ha-appy-y- I’m-” And that was as far as he got before his breathing sped up again and he could barely get enough air inside his lungs, let alone words out of his mouth.
It scared him. Cam crying to awfully he couldn’t speak, he could barely breathe. It broke his heart, knowing he couldn’t do anything to fix this. Even being here and holding him wasn’t going to be enough.
“You don’t have to explain,” Happy said after a moment, past the lump in his own throat. He didn’t want to put pressure on Cam trying to even think through the hysterics. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay, baby. I’m here.”
Whatever being here meant, well, Happy figured he could at least do that. He stroked Cam’s hair, kissed his forehead, rubbed his back. Things his mother would do for him as a little kid when he was hurt or upset. Maybe Campbell just needed to cry things out. Whatever was going on in his head or whatever had happened, Happy could wait it out.
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@arandomnerdsrp358
The more she watched him fumble, the more she thought that he was adorable.
“I am going to be completely honest with you, if it’s not art class I dont really care. Nothing keeps my interest quite like art class. Do you like history?”
“I-- yeah, I mean, yeah, generally.” Harold gave a shrug, “People are interesting. Events.” Boy, was he sounding like some dumb big jock. Not that he even was, technically, yet, though his dad wanted him to try out for football when the season came.
“What kind of art do you like?” Harold knew even less about art, but if May was interested then he wouldn’t mind listening to her.
#new here: may#had to move it to a new thread because the legacy and beta editors are impossibly incompatible fuuuuucking tumblr
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“Fury isn’t picking up, Hill isn’t picking up-- I didn’t know who else to call!”
Happy’s raised voice was more in panic than anything else, though there was a edge of frustrated anger to it. The fender of his SUV was dented, the grill cracked, and there was a dead... Oh, god...
“Nat, there’s a dead lizard person in front of my car. I mean I hit it-- her with my car. Is this one of those skrulls? Do I have some international intergalactic incident on my hands? Is my insurance going to cover that? Do I call the police? What do I do? Murdock’s gonna be pissed-- I was keeping a nice low profile after all that Spider-man and Stark tech BS.” He finally paused to take a breath.
“I don’t know what to do here, Nat.”
Chit Chat
open to: anyone | canon or oc | made with beta
suggested connections: stranger, friend of a friend, former enemy, new super, have fun with it could be like one of the kids of other avengers, anyone with a direct line to Natasha
“This isn’t a line you just call to chat--” They were still rambling on and Natasha grit teeth, her jaw tightening. “Whoa, slow the hell down. One big deep breath, then speak slowly and clearly. Okay?” Her tone was calm despite her annoyance.
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"Well--" Happy tilted his head, giving a bit of a smirk, whatever he was going to say leaving him as another thought came to him. Carol might've been a little... stand off-ish in his opinion, which caused a little suspicion on his part. But not now. And not saying something like that.
"You know, that's kind of funny because I feel the same way? I mean, in regards to Tony and saving his life. It's my job, sure--" Except it wasn't, really. Not anymore. His actual job was protecting Stark Industries and Pepper. Tony could look after himself... so he said.
"But it's actually how we met. I saved his life. I pulled him from a burning car. So, you know, I get the whole 'Oh I just did what anyone would have', I do. But you didn't. You pulled a space ship back to Earth. That's a big deal."
( impromptu starter for Carol Danvers, during Endgame, post snap, @torntruth )
They said she was an alien. But she actually looked a hell of a lot like his high school biology teacher. Everyone had a crush on Miss McClaren. This Carol Danvers (Captain, former US Air Force pilot, Happy did his research) didn’t look alien at all. Which made Happy impressed and suspicious all at once. If she looked positively human, what other people were aliens posing as Earthlings? It was a conspiracy theory rabbit hole he did not have time to venture down into.
He had the Blue Meanie to babysit, though not much, and Tony to check in on. Nebula at least looked like a crazy alien. Somehow that put him more at ease. She was weird, but she seemed to care enough about Tony to be protective of him and then stand back when it was clear he had other people around. Happy was looking out for the angry looking blue girl with no one around because he knew Tony would want him to. She had been there to look out for Tony when he couldn’t.
And Carol had saved his fucking life.
Tony was asleep. He slept long and hard these past few days, his body working tirelessly to repair itself and regain something of an internal clock again. Happy was balancing work and making sure Pepper was okay and being here with Tony.
Eventually the Avengers would regroup and have to figure out what was next.
Right now, he wanted to talk to the very normal looking alien woman.
“Hey,” Happy gave the woman a nod, approaching her as he spotted her in the Avenger’s compound outside of Tony’s room. “I’m Happy Hogan, I just wanted to introduce myself. And, um, say thank you, basically. You know, I used to work security for Tony. And every time he goes out and does something crazy like this… I can’t help but wonder…”
The kid was gone. Happy couldn’t get up with May Parker, though he’d tried. He gave a shrug, letting the obvious phrase go unsaid. Maybe Tony wouldn’t make it back next time…
“You saved my friend’s life. Thank you.”
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[ cont from here with @heretoboogie ]
“Soup after a workout?” Happy raised an eyebrow but looked at his boyfriend fondly and moved to hug him, all sweaty in his sweatpants and hoodie after a run. He ruffled Cam’s hair, moaning softly into the hug and broke away, walking towards the bedroom.
“I’m taking a shower. You can join me... or you can make your soup.” Happy chuckled, “Or you could wait and I’ll make you a real dinner.”
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@heretoboogie didn’t ask for this starter based on this post...
“Cam?” Happy had come home a little earlier than expected. He didn’t expect to find Campbell curled up in their bed, sobbing into the pillow. He knew Cam had depression at the very least. Bad, harmful, needs medication and a therapist depression that Happy didn’t fully grasp. But he was trying. He was leading the horse to water as much as he could. He had the financial resources and knew people with the know how and emotional resources that he didn’t have.
He was the boyfriend, not the psychiatrist.
“Baby, I’m here...” Happy loosened his tie and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling up Cam in his arms. He cradled him, hugged him. His heart pounded in his chest.
“Talk to me, sweetheart... What’s wrong?”
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Cut to Happy trying to do anything on a phone or laptop that JARVIS isn’t build into to do everything for him
Campbell does own a laptop somewhere, but he's not used it for weeks. He does 99% of all digital things on his phone.
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heretoboogie:
Campbell sometimes did not properly think about what he said, or how he said it. In his head, it had been a compliment, but then the moment he’d said it, it had come out all wrong. “No, wait-”
Their first meeting had been chance, after all, which Cam’s mistakes (like trying to get married and failing) had led up to. His point had been that sometimes things go wrong in life but still yield wonderful results, a reminder to himself to be less harsh, to stop thinking in absolutes like ‘success’ and 'failure’.
Clearly, that.. hadn’t come across that way.
His throat felt thick and he swallowed heavily, visibly cringing at Happy’s words. Those were a little too close to what his parents would chide him with when he was younger, but even moreso they tapped into what he feared most - that he was actually a bad person, deep down. Selfish and careless.
Worse, there was a flare of anger that burst out of him before he could stop it. “Ye say that as ef I can jest quit bein’ ill,” Campbell snapped, getting up to pace restlessly. “Ye have no idea what that’s like, an’ I meant- I meant-” As always, his anger was quick to flare up but too weak to be sustained for long.
What did it even matter what he meant? His intentions meant nothing in the face of the results. For a few breathless moments, Campbell looked at Happy, heartbeat ringing in his ears, and then he stumbled back and fled the room. Running was always easier.
“I didn’t say anything about you being ill, Cam--” Happy didn’t raise his voice that much. He knew better. But they were already talking over each other and before he knew it Campbell was running out of the room.
Happy let him go. What was he going to do? Grab him and stop him from leaving? Try that out on the street and it wouldn’t be the first time someone would try and pull a citizen’s arrest on Happy for getting in an ‘altercation’ with someone. He never laid a hand on Cam. He never would, not even to stop him from leaving. Or making another huge mistake.
“Cam!” Happy called out, hoping to be heard in time. Hoping that the regret in his voice was evident enough for Campbell to reconsider running off.
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