The story of a lonesome ol'Jerome

*Gwyn’s POV*

As soon as the curtain swung shut, Andy turned to me and smiled, and I felt my beat-up, old heart flutter. I smiled back, but looked away shyly. I mean, it felt right, but after so little time, this seemed insane. I really hoped Andy didn’t go on to regret it. I started to imagine the backlash from his fans and his press and my mood went a little sour.

“Hey, you ok, Doc?” Andy gently touched my cheek, looking concerned. I realized I had been scowling. I felt bad- I had a very intense scowl, he probably thought I was planning a homicide from the look on my face.

“I’ll be alright. I was just wondering if, maybe, you could put off telling people about us for a while?” Instantly I regretted not having been more specific, Andy looked incredibly hurt.

“Um… I… why?” I felt terrible, he clearly thought I was ashamed of him.

“No, no, Andy, I am so glad to be your partner!” I kissed him, and I put my feelings into it. I kissed him until he chuckled and smiled.

“Ok, I believe you. So what’s the problem?” He reached down and pinched my nipple, his grin growing wider and that left eyebrow shooting up. I gave his hand a little smack- we were in a hospital!

“We haven’t known each other very long, Andy. I don’t care if you tell the people you know personally, that’s fine. But if you could hold off on any, like, Twittering about it, or talking about it in interviews, or official announcements, for just a while longer, I’d feel better about it. I feel like I’d get a lot less hate. Please, Hot-shot?”

In response, Andy pouted. As in, full-on, lower lip came out a bit, he had a slight frown that alternated with a sad face, and he crossed his arms. “You fucking women, always wanting to slink around secretly, it drives me nuts! I hate that, I fucking hate that!” He turned to look at me, running a hand through his hair. “How long? A year, what?” He wrinkled his nose in irritation.

Poor Andy looked so cute, all discombobulated. I laughed, which caught him off guard. He looked confused, and up went that eyebrow. “A fucking year? Are you shitting me?”

He scowled again. “No. I just took a guess from past experience. Hmph.” He kind of stuck his nose in the air and fussed with his hair more. Oops. Sensitive topic.

“I was thinking, more like, a week and a half?” I reached for his hand, with a cautious smile.

He turned, surprised, and took my hand. “Oh. Well, I’ll think about it.” He smiled and kissed my cheek. “We’ll see if I can make it that long.”

Notes

QOTD: favorite comic book character superhero/antihero (not villain- that’s a different question, for later!).

Probably Neil Gaiman’s Dream (the Sandman), though I love Wolverine (X-Men), Batman, Tank Girl, Rorschach (Watchmen), Johnny the Homicidal Maniac, and Marv (Sin City) especially.