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blackers-donuts · 6 years

Text

Plaits of love

When Froghorn comes in with two small plaits prodding beneath his head with those funky plaits that come down from the top. Hitch had vaguely heard about them, he lived with a teenage girl after all and whilst they could both admit Ruby isn’t the most fashion forward girl, Sabrina sure is.

“Maybe if you take a picture Agent Hitch, it’ll last longer,” he snaps looking up from his papers, “if you are about to make fun at my pigtails I’m fairly certain I could get you fired.” “I am not, it is pretty, they suit you,” Hitch says, he can feel his body turn bright red and looking briefly away blushing completely to his ears.

Froghorn matches Hitch’s colour before motioning through the door, “Miss Redfort is through there with Blacker.” “Froghorn, you maybe want to go out sometime,” says Hitch, trust the field agent to be the brash one and offer a date to the normally quiet Froghorn. “Cha’yeah,” says Froghorn, “and call me Miles please.” “I could call you anything you want me to,” flirts Hitch letting his field training get the better of him.

“Miles I am just a Miles, are you just a Hitch or,” replies Miles. “Art, sometimes,” says Hitch feeling his blush increase at his admitting his stupid first name. Why do parents name children after something they found beautiful, Art. “Okay Art, I’ll see you around seven,” says Miles taking control of the flirting, “maybe I will take you to a nice restaurant or something.” “I asked you out,” replies Hitch, “thank you though.” “Yep, pick me up from my home, you know where that is?” “No,” answers Hitch truthfully. “Ruby knows, ask her I am sure she has it all written down in those notebooks of hers,” Froghorn answers, “you really should do your job and pick her up.” “Seven?”double checks Hitch, “seven at your place.” “Yep don’t dress up fancy and yes a suit is fancy, I don’t care if you always wear suits,” says Miles, “ just put on a t shirt or something.”

Hitch nods though he is panicking about the lack of t shirts in his wardrobe. He has jeans, but he wears jeans with shirts not t shirts. He needed to go shopping or at least find someone to lend him something. “See you Art,” says Froghorn, “Redfort, your lift is here.” Ruby leaves and high fives Froghorn before fist bumping Hitch and leaving to wait in the car downstairs. “Listen I have the perfect place but it is not a suit place t shirts,” says Froghorn. Hitch nods before waving goodbye to Froghorn and following Ruby who is grinning from shotgun as Hitch slides in.

“I heard you need t shirts,” says Ruby. “No offence Ruby, I would much rather get fashion advice from Clancy then you and he wore heart shaped glasses for a month,” says Hitch, “I’ll drop you off at home and then I will try to find something. Do you know where Froghorn lives?” “With Blacker,” says the cryptic Ruby. “Where is that?” asks Hitch so close to just kicking Ruby out of the car. Ruby rattles off the address and Hitch smiles before passing her the donuts that he bought for her and tapping on the steering wheel till he reaches the house.

“That’s cute,” says Ruby watching the house keeper pull t shirts messily from the back of his wardrobe. “Too informal,” counters Hitch looking at the Nasa logo on the front, it came from the woman’s section so it was covered in glitter and silver, too be honest this was probably going to be the one t shirt that wasn’t covered in paint. He pulled it on and pulled a Star Wars hoodie over it. Hitch looks down, “too nerdy?” “Hell nah, he loves Nerdy stuff,” says Ruby.

Hitch nods and pulls on sharpied jeans, nothing wrong with a bit personalisation Ruby smiles and writes something around his ankle and he leans down to read it but she seems to have written it in Morse or something. “You are going to be late,” says Ruby. Hitch swears before sprinting to his car and driving, possibly at an illegal speed before parking the wrong end of the street and sprinting down.

“Shit, Miles I am sorry,” says Hitch as Froghorn opens the door, “I had a panic over an outfit.” “Oh did you,” says Miles embracing him in a hug, “seems a bit too nerdy for a field agent.” “I like space,” answers Hitch and he can feel his blush returning, now he will need to organise his outfits around when his face turns red. Miles separates and looks at his top, “my sister has that top.” “Well, I am not changing,” says Hitch. “I like it,” answers Froghorn, “I like your whole outfit honestly.”

Blacker comes up behind Miles, “are you two going out or standing in the doorframe letting snow in.” “Shut up Ethan,” says Mile before checking his reflection in his phone and brushing through his hair with his fingers before plaiting it with like three interlocking strands and pulling a giant red scrunchie around it.

“Hitch has got me for tonight, I’ll be back by shall we say eleven,” says Froghorn looking between his housemate and Hitch. Hitch looks up from his feet where he was standing awkwardly, “I am not going to kidnap you Miles.” “Just in case,” answers Miles, “I trust you.” “One date went wrong,” inputs Blacker before patting Hitch’s back, “have Miles back by eleven or I’ll get Sam out.” “Yeah yeah I will have him back Mr Blacker,” says Hitch, “ready to go.”

Miles looks up at Hitch, they happily swing their hands together before Miles drags him into one of those fancy bars that also offer food. Exciting food, actual good food that wasn’t microwaved fish and chips or a greasy pie. This is nice. “Hitch,” calls Sabrina from a table where she is sat over with a friend. “Miss Redfort,” replies Hitch. Miles grins a little, before tugging his date to another section of the restaurant and sitting down.

Hitch smiles a little, pulling at the hem of his t shirt. “Nasa eh,” asks Froghorn, linking their ankles under the table. “It is cool, I don’t fully understand the science. Probably not like you,” answers Hitch, “you could probably make a machine that could reach the constellations.” “Freckles,” mutters Miles, “don‘t pay attention to them.”

“They are adorable,” answers Hitch, he can see the decoder reach over into his hand and trace Orion on his palm almost self-consciously.

“Adorable eh? I think you liking NASA is adorable,” answer Miles smartly, “you know nothing about it and you are still fascinated by it.” “Aliens.” “Aliens,” comes the repeat. “It is a possibility,” answers the field agent, “don't make fun of me.” “Imagine Ruby knowing you believe in aliens,” giggles Miles.

The meal is good and both men spend the night blushing, flirting (badly) and talking (easily) and at about nine pm Miles pays and Hitch starts to walk Miles home, leading him around some teenagers drunken by either liquor or the night. Miles tucks himself neatly into Hitch’s arm before unlocking the door. “Do you want to stay tonight?” Miles asks, “Blacker makes mean pancakes every Saturday.” “I don’t want to overstay my welcome, ”answers Hitch. Miles look softly at him, cupping his chin slightly “Art.”

Hitch can feel himself blushing, colour spreading from Miles’s hand over his face, Miles leans down slightly and catches his lips slightly, “stay on the sofa or something. I will stay on the sofa.” “I will stay on the sofa,” answers Hitch leaning up a little, “if you go on another date with me.” “Yeah,” whispers Miles, leaning back down to kiss him slightly more stronger now, more confident.

“You came home early,” says Blacker dropping his keys by the front door and hanging his coat up, “I didn’t expect you.” “I came home like half an hour after I left three weeks ago,” answers Froghorn. Blacker rolls his eyes, “yeah, because he was evil.” “He was evil,” Miles tells Hitch, “you are a gentleman.” “Gentleman? Tell that to Ruby,” laughs Hitch, “I am hardly a gentleman.” “Compared to the last person he went on a date with,” counters Blacker. “Don’t talk about my last dates with that person, he was still better then Kevin,” answers Miles embarrassed, “especially in front of Hitch.” “Miles, no offence. Anyone is better Kevin,” says Blacker. “Go away Ethan, I was happily kissing Art before you rolled up.” “Get a room,” answers Blacker, as Hitch leans up to kiss Miles gently holding his shoulder.

Miles leads Hitch up to his bedroom, the opposite of his office which is pristine because this room is awfully messy with books (a mixture of sc-fi and fantasy) and notebooks (awfully similar to Ruby’s) are stacked and scattered across the room everywhere except the bed which has a small homemade quilt over the top and Miles sits down on it. “Don’t ask about my lovelife,” he warns, “I will tell you when I want to.” “So long as I get you now,” says Hitch, “don’t care about your past, I can care about your future if you want.” Miles shrugs a bit watching Hitch move around the room picking up cracked spines and funny named authors, carefully ignoring the notebooks- some of them may be too private to share right now or ever he did not want to flick through someone’s dairy after their first date.

“You should read that one,” points Froghorn, “it is very good.” Hitch picks it up and reads the blurb- flicks through the pages and notice the small print of the agent as he has written his own annotations. Places it next to where he sits as he moves to be in a closer space to Miles who is fiddling with his hair. Hitch opens the book and leans against Miles before reading quietly whispering words, under his breath as he reads.

“Art,” he asks, causing the agent to look up sharply from his book, “can we do this again sometimes?” “Yeah,” says Hitch, “do you want me to go?” “No no continue reading please,” comes the quick reply as Froghorn pulls a notebook out and starts to scribble as Hitch goes back to whispering words about mystical lands, letting occasional distractions from Miles pull him away.

#ruby redfort #froghorn/hitch #ruby redfort fanfic #this is based off #trashy pretzels fanart #I love this #also it took way too long #to edit

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