by Nicole Field
Bruce watched on helplessly as Captain Hart made eye contact with many individuals in the group surrounding him. Bruce held his breath for them, waiting for them to recoil, or the threat of violence—or actual violence—to start.
This time, Captain Hart didn't speak again. He waited for someone else to do it first.
Bruce couldn't see the person Captain Hart pointed to next. When the person spoke, though, Bruce realized it was a child.
"Does that mean you're like a fairy tale prince?"
Bruce smiled as laughter took over the silence. It was exact right question for the moment. Before Captain Hart could answer, however, many voices rose, all intermingling with one another so that Bruce couldn't make out one question from all the others. He doubted Leo was having any better luck.
This time, when Captain Hart raised his hands, it took a much longer time for silence to descend. Yet it still did. Bruce noticed there were a few people pushing their way through the crowd, storming away from the group or looking back in disgust. But the majority of the group was still there, making way for those who wished to leave, but not backing away from the American hero.
"I'm not a fairy tale prince. I'm a real-life man. And I did this one amazing thing that got some attention. All of you will do amazing things too. They won't necessarily get you on national TV…"
This got the intended laughter.
Bruce was still too tense to relax, but he started to feel that the worst potential for trouble had passed. Hopefully with those individuals who had left.
Captain Hart selected another person to ask a question. It was a boy standing not too far from him. Others around him turned to look.
He seemed shy with all the attention and the pressure to suddenly speak. Bruce smiled, seeing a smaller version of himself in the teenager.
"Um," he said, voice squeaking. He paused, no doubt making sure that his voice was under control before he spoke again. "You gotta be honest with this one," he said. "No lying or nothing."
Captain Hart nodded to this request.
The boy seemed placated by that. "Okay. This might be an obvious question, but are you Team Captain America, or Team Ironman?"
There was another up swell of laugher greeting this question, so it was a while before Captain Hart could answer.
When he finally did, it was to say, "Team Ironman. Of course."
*~*~*
It was several hours and well past dark by the time Captain Hart managed to pull himself away from his supporters. Bruce came up to his side as he reached the edge of the park.
"Big day," he murmured, lifting his hand for a cab as they reached the road.
"Yeah."
Leo didn't just look tired. He looked bone weary, like it was only stubbornness alone that had him lifting one foot in front of the other, and he was almost out of that. But there was a smile on his face too, one that just reached his eyes. In some ways, this exhausted smile was more emotional and pleased than any Bruce had recently seen on Leo's face.
"So, no more secrets from your greatest fans," Bruce mused, while they waited for an empty cab to pull up before them.
"I told you they'd find out whether I told them myself or not. I decided to tell them myself."
"It was a good audience for it," Bruce said. A cab put on its indicator and pulled to a stop in front of them. Stepping forward, Bruce opened the door, then stepped back to allow Leo to get in in front of him.
"It felt good to do it," Leo said after thanking him, once they were both inside the cab and Bruce had offered directions. "It felt honest. Like I was getting back to something I wanted to get back to about myself."
"What was that?" Bruce tried to keep all traces of judgment out of his voice. He was genuinely curious to hear what Leo's answer would be.
Leo looked at him. There was still a small smile on his lips, but now there was sadness in his eyes. "I know you think all of this has changed me."
Bruce didn't disagree.
"And I think you're right." Leo's comment seemed to come directly out of left field. "I think a lot of them are good changes, but some of them could use some work."
For a full minute, Bruce didn't know what to say. Anything resembling the words 'I told you so' wasn't an option. If there was a faster way to get Leo to clam up after all this time, Bruce didn't know what it was. So he stayed silent and hoped that Leo would take it as encouragement to keep speaking.
"I have regrets," was all Leo said.
Chapter Seven
The stories told by Captain Hart almost immediately went viral. Pretty soon, that was all the Internet was saying. 'American Superhero is Trans!' 'Bathroom Bills Busted!' 'Captain Hart Won't Stand for Your Bigotry!'
There was just as much vitriol on the other side. No longer was Captain Hart simply America's favourite superhero.
"What is Captain Hart teaching our children on these meet-and-greets?" asked one show host. "Who's supervising these outings? They need to be regulated. Parents have a right to know what their children are going to. That's their rights as parents."
And, "What, this guy just shoots into the sky, disables an alien space ship, and nobody asks questions? Where were those questions when he first started appearing on national TV? How do we know Captain Hart isn't one of those aliens?"
Leo didn't cancel the promised upcoming meet ups, which were still held over at Quincy Park on a weekly basis, but he didn't approach them with the same sense of pleasure as before.
Outwardly, Leo didn't acknowledge to Bruce that he'd seen any of the headlines from either side of the argument. There was no return to the conversation that he'd started to touch on in the ride home from the first time out at one of these.
Every day, Bruce went to work and every night he came back to the chasm into which their silences howled. Before the end of the next week, Bruce could no longer count the number of started and then aborted conversations he'd tried to have with his best friend.
The truth was, as much as Bruce didn't agree with some of what Leo had done, Leo was living his truth.
What was Bruce doing? He had become just some guy who worked a nine to five job, had been known occasionally to hack into computers for information he wanted and definitely read too many comic books.
That was supposed to be fine. The nine to five job at least was what everyone told him he should be doing in order to fulfil his potential. But it felt hollow. It had been almost a year since he'd attended his last rally, though he read about them.
Had it not been for Leo continually asking him to accompany him, Bruce wouldn't even have been present where anything important was happening.
And now Leo was getting flack for it. As he'd known he would. Because people didn't like change, and Leo was challenging a lot of the perceived norms. Alien space ship. Trans superhero. They were simply ongoing facts of his life, part of who he was. He didn't see a point in hiding it.
Bruce knew all about hiding. It wasn't just the day to day work that made his lip curl. It was the fact that while his best friend was involved in all these important, world changing things, he still couldn't be honest about himself.
It was quite late on Friday night when Bruce was brought out of his self-pitying musings. He thought he heard something coming from Leo's room. For a moment, he his book down against his legs and listened. It paid to be cautious when living with a superhero. Bruce had decided somewhere along the line.
But when the sound wasn't repeated, Bruce went back to his e-reader, tried to actually read it this time.
Only to hear a noise again.
Frowning, he clicked off the screen of the reader, and went to his window. Was someone outside?
But, no. When the snuffling sound came a third time, it seemed to come from behind him. From the other side of the hallway.
Stepping away from the window, Bruce moved on soft feet into the hallway between their bedrooms, then knocked on Leo's door.
There was a long pause, then, "Come in."
Leo's
voice sounded muffled. Slowly, Bruce pushed the door open. Leo was already looking at him. It was plain from the sight of him that he had been crying. The thoughts Bruce had been enduring in the privacy of his own room bolted at the sight.
"I'm sorry," Leo said in a dull voice. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"I wasn't asleep," Bruce said, striding further into the room without invitation, but careful not to overstep.
Leo made room for him on the bed, but didn't say anything as he half turned away.
"Did you want to talk about it?" Bruce asked, sitting down.
Leo just shrugged, almost aggressively despondent.
For a long moment, the two men sat side by side on the soft bed in silence. Then Bruce sighed. There had been enough silence between them. Too much. He saw now the damage caused through so protracted a period of continued silence.
Still, it was hard to talk suddenly, hard to find the words, after so long of stifling them and waiting to find the perfect words that never came. Bruce cleared his throat, then decided on the first imperfect words to come to his mind.
"I knew you must have heard," Bruce said quietly, without looking at Leo. "I just didn't know how to talk about it. Or if I should."
"I knew," Leo said grimly. He seemed about to say something else, but then just shook his head. He wasn't crying now. A ferocious expression had taken over his features and hardened as if against any further tears. "I didn't want to know," he told Bruce from between gritted teeth, still without looking at him.
In the face of that, Bruce couldn't think of a single thing to say to console him.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this," Leo murmured, as his hands came down. "I knew there'd be some pushback, after…" Again, he shook his head, as even he couldn't seem to form the words. Transgender. Now that everyone knew about it, they all had an opinion on it. Even within the community. There were groups who were shouting how awful it was that Captain Hart didn't even have to transition 'properly'. They didn't seem to count him as part of the trans community. But he wasn't part of the cis community either.
"I'm sorry," Bruce said, and he meant it. He'd thought that Leo gained strength just from his own truths. The fact that he had come forward despite feeling all of this just under the surface made his whole coming out even more impressive.
Leo's gaze moved towards Bruce's, and it was like he remembered he was meant to be more tough than this. Bruce watched him grapple for that hard expression and firm jaw. Leo's Adam's apple bobbed up and down and Bruce saw, too, the moment when Leo failed to draw himself back up into his own impenetrable mental fortress.
Leo's hand reached out to touch Bruce's shoulder, even as his gaze remained rooted firmly on the comforter in front of them. "You've been such a good friend to me," he rasped out. "I'm lucky to have you."
Bruce flushed. He didn't feel like he'd been a good friend. He'd been arguing with Leo almost constantly since his return, only to them foolishly blunder into silence. But, "Thank you. You are too." It was difficult to reply with feeling without being able to meet Leo's gaze, but he did his best.
Leo snorted. "I'm a monster. To hear them talking, you'd think I was as bad as the aliens I killed."
"You're not a monster," Bruce was quick to defend.
Leo looked up, meeting Bruce's gaze for the first time since he'd entered the room, and Bruce made out the unshed tears before the tired gaze. "You really don't think so, do you?"
"I really don't." This time, it was impossible to miss the feeling in Bruce's soft words. He didn't break eye contact with Leo, didn't shift away. Leo's warm hand was still against Bruce's shoulder, almost as if Leo had forgotten putting it there. Bruce didn't want to draw attention to it, didn't want that warmth to be taken away. It was a… strange feeling to have. "You are so complex," he began. "You were, even before you came by your powers. Being transgender is just part of who you are."
Leo's gaze dropped abruptly. "You're right. I'm also an unreasonable killer."
"Leo…" Bruce shook his head, but Leo refused to look at him once more.
"It's no more than what you've said." The quiet intimacy between them was shattered. Leo's hand pulled back from his shoulder and Bruce felt cold where before there had been warmth. "Thanks for checking in on me," he said, in a different voice than before; a colder voice. "I'll be fine."
"Will you?"
The comment dropped out of Bruce's mouth, another remnant of his decision tonight to say the first imperfect thing to come to mind. His heart was suddenly pounding, and Bruce realized that it was fear. Not fear of what Leo could, or would, do to him. But fear of what his best friend might take away.
They had felt closer tonight than Bruce could remember. He wanted to reach into Leo and draw that closeness out again, examine it, find out what it meant.
Leo looked to him and away again. "Go to bed, Bruce. You don't want this."
"You're wrong—" Bruce started, but then could say nothing more, because Leo shifted suddenly. His arms went around Bruce, pinning him in place, and his mouth…
Bruce hadn't been kissed since a couple of abortive tries in high school. For a moment, he didn't move, didn't respond at all. The feeling of Leo's lips pressed against his own was softer than he might have expected if he'd taken the time to think about it, and there was the hint of stubble above the top lip that was probably also present on his own.
He pulled away sharply. It wasn't that the kiss had been unpleasant. He wasn't sure what the kiss had been, apart from 'confusing'. But it wasn't an accident that it had happened tonight, either. Tonight when all these thoughts of who he really was were flooding his head.
Leo let him go immediately, which was unfortunate in a way because it made Bruce realize that he had no idea where to look.
"I'm sorry."
Bruce's gaze darted back to Leo. There was a furrow on Leo's brow, and Bruce realized too late how Leo had taken it when Bruce had pulled away. He wanted to undo that action, but he didn't have the knowledge or experience to figure out how.
"No, I…" he started, trying with just words, but they came out stilted and unsure. "You don't have to be sorry. I don't…"
Leo's shoulders hunched still further. "I understand. You don't feel that way towards guys."
"No!" Bruce said with more force than the situation probably warranted. He glanced at the ceiling to avoid Leo's probing stare. How had they managed to go for almost a decade of knowing each other without this ever having come up between them? He was sure that, if he'd said something to Leo before this, without this actual situation as the background context, it would have been fine. But now there was a lump in the back of his throat and he felt as though there was something inherently wrong with him.
To Leo's credit, he read Bruce's expression fairly well and didn't press. When Bruce braved looking at him once again, there was concern on his features.
"I'm asexual." Bruce uttered the words, accompanied by a sinking feeling to his stomach. He didn't know why. According to Google, he was just part of the 1% of Americans who identified this way.
He'd just said the word. He'd just said the word to the first person ever in his life.
"What?" With Leo's surprise came a return to his low, rasping voice, rather than the harsher tone. He inclined his head, trying to get Bruce to look at him. Bruce could see it out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't ashamed of what he had told him. He just felt… raw. The information was private. And now he'd shared it with another person. It was another kind of intimacy. Bruce wasn't used to a lot of intimacies. "Bruce," Leo said softly. "Look at me."
It was a command, but a gentle one. Bruce found himself responding to the authority in Leo's voice the same way that he'd seen Captain Hart's fans responding to it in Quincy Park.
"I'm asexual," Bruce said again, needing to hear it out loud a second time.
"I heard you," Leo murmured, still staring at him closely. It was ridiculous how Leo was staring at him, like Bruce imagined he'd stared at Leo when he'd fir
st come back after his disappearance, waiting to see if he was broken or not.
"I don't need you to make me all right with this," Bruce lied, echoing Leo's quiet, modulated tone. "I'm okay with it. I'm just not used to… sharing it with people."
"But…" Leo let out a gradual exhalation of air. "It's me."
Bruce saw confusion lining Leo's face. It wasn't hurt, exactly. It was understanding. Bruce was different in some ways. And different could be scary, particular to the person who was different. But Leo knew that better than most.
"I don't advertise it," Bruce said. "And it's not like it's relevant most of the time. It would be, maybe, if I ever had romantic relationships."
Bruce watched Leo process that. Coming to the realization that, although Leo hadn't exactly been prolific in his romantic relationships over the years, Bruce had yet to have one since back they'd first moved in together.
"I should have seen it," Leo said, and there was the familiar self-deprecation on his features.
Bruce reached out to touch him without thinking. The surprise of the gesture in the midst of this revelation drew Leo's gaze back to him. "I don't advertise it," Bruce said again, tightening his hand around Leo's even as he emphasized his own autonomy. "It's not you."
Leo let out a little laugh. "Good," he said, and with another eye roll, he shifted to lean his head against Bruce's shoulder.
It turned into their first comfortable silence since Leo's return. Bruce became aware of Leo's heartbeat though the pulse point pressing against his shoulder. He noticed his breathing had begun to match, before Leo shifted.
"Would you stay in here tonight?" He'd shifted so he could look Bruce in the face. "Nothing more than sleeping. Like we used to. Would you mind?"
"Sure," he said. It was late anyway, and the walk across to his room seemed longer than it usually did. Besides, it was nice to be asked to do something that they used to do. "I don't mind."
He shifted as well, scooting further down on the bed so that his head rested on the pillow. Only after Bruce was settled did Leo shift down to join him.