#wrapping himself in seaweed and keeping hank on his chest

[nothinggathers]

Preserving this tags because you're killing me here Noodle

Hank can barely focus on his book while he lounges on the dock, what with the way his touchy mermaid boyfriend twines his tail around his legs and presses his nose insistently under his chin, making happy little chirps and trills as he nuzzles right up against Hank’s pulse 🥺

[brokenjardaantech]

late at home

For @lehenne, Nolfalvrel, and Anonymous_IDFK.

summary: 

Hector goes home late. Fluff and late-night quietness ensues.

notes:

Unbeta’ed so all typos and mistakes are mine and please point them out if you see any.

Special thanks to nolf, lehenne, and anon for allowing me to wing it with their mer!connor ideas even though I haven’t been around for long. Without them, this will not exist.

By the way, on Hector’s appearance: please imagine a fusion between movie!aquaman and mcu!thor. That’s all I know on the matter.

also on ao3

----

The rain does nothing to wash a day’s worth of grime away. All it does is soaking Hector’s clothes, making them heavy and cold as fuck and weighing him down, but still he makes sure to shed all moisture he can from the fabric before opening the door and stepping into the house; his headache from both exhaustion and dehydration is killing him, and he doesn’t need Hank yelling at him for making a mess on the floor again. The surfacer always has a way to distinguish between the natural colour of the dark wooden floor and the stains on top of it.

He hangs his dripping coat on the brass hook on the wall by the door and goes straight to the bathroom, not to clean himself up, but to turn on the shower and drink straight from the shower head, pouring litres of much-needed water directly down his throat and somewhat relieving the pounding in his head that is threatening to turn his brain into mush. His headache now subsided, he moves to go to the kitchen to cook himself a serving of noodles or five. 

That is when his eyes swivel to the neat row of toothbrushes on the counter. Shit. He forgot that he actually has his children back now, and all the ruckus he caused during his short trip from the front door to the bathroom.

Hank will be so pissed if he wakes up the brothers.

Paddling softly to the corridor, he finds the door to the children’s room half-open, and when he holds the knob and pushes it so that the gap is wide enough for him to peek into the room just to find the lights out and the beds empty. Not again, he thinks as his heart thunders in his chest as he closes the door properly this time. He goes to the other bedroom which he and Hank share and immediately calms down from the scene in front of him: sitting up with his back against the headboard is Hank, a pair of wire-framed glasses perched low on the bridge of his nose as he reads from a cardboard picture book that looks tiny in his hands, and Connor, wrapped in a fluffy towel and suckling on its helm, curls close to his father’s belly, small fingers twisting into the fabric of Hank’s shirt, his eyes half-closed from what must be drowsiness. Nines is there too with a towel knitted from seaweed around his body and a protective arm thrown around his brother’s neck, though instead of listening to what his surfacer father has to say, he seems to be focused on glaring at the surfacer and crushing Connor underneath him with his slightly higher body weight, and Hector knows it’s an instinctive reaction on Nines’ part to protect Connor from harm. Getting Nines to trust his surfacer father isn’t easy, and not long ago did he start tolerating Hank’s existence around Connor; it will be a long journey before he trusts Hank completely. All the lights in the room are switched off except for the lamp on the bedside table on Hank’s side, casting a warm glow on the man himself and placing the brothers in his shadows. 

He doesn’t want to disturb the fragile peace in the bedroom, so even though Hank doesn’t seem to notice that he is home or at least doesn’t react to it, Hector goes to the kitchen to cook himself an entire family pack of noodles (which is like five portions but surfacer portions are always so small), cracking in an egg or three (he isn’t counting) and pre-washed vegetables and crab sticks into the pot as well for taste because damned if he has another tasteless bowl of noodles again in his life. If he takes the extra effort to strain the noodles after all the ingredients are done and then adds some powdered cheese and chilli oil into the mix, well… no one is stopping him from finally making something that can fill his stomach after an entire day without food because he forgot to bring his wallet again.

Surface life is so fucking primitive and he won’t have it any other way.

He sets aside a small bowl for Hank in case the surfacer wants to have a snack before going to bed and consumes the rest in record-time because he is hungry and he also wants to be at his family’s side as soon as possible. Which he does after soaking the bowl and utensil he ate with in the pot he cooked the noodles with, and he finds Connor already asleep but still suckling on the towel on his chin and his grip on Hank’s shirt still tight and twisting the fabric. Nines also looks like he is halfway to the land of the dreams but is struggling to stay awake probably to keep his brother safe, and his eyes slip shut as well the moment Hector steps into the room and makes himself known to everyone still awake. When his father moves to pick him up with a muttered ‘Off to bed’ from where he is lying half on top of Connor and half on the bed, he doesn’t protest and lets go of his brother easily, and Hank picks up the smaller mermaid as well after setting the book aside and taking off his glasses, the nose pads leaving two red indents on the bridge of his nose which Hank rubs away with his thumb and index finger. With Nines on one arm, Hector opens the door to the brothers’ bedroom, and the two of them fuss with the child they are holding respectively. Connor’s side of the room is of a surfacer child’s design with a proper bed wrapped in soft sheets and cramped with stuffed toys and blankets, the light blue walls around it dotted by doodles of surface things like trees or flowers, and Hector has a feeling that he will gain his legs soon, and maybe, just maybe, with the incentive to walk and live like a surfacer, his legs - and his tail, by extension - will finally start to heal. If not, surfacer prosthetics are much easier to fit and find anyway, and Connor will finally take his first step towards recovery after the accident that twisted and mangled his tail into an unrecognisable mess either way.

Hank looks up from rearranging the towel around Connor. Blue eyes meet Hector’s amber ones, a small point with his chin chastising Hector for zoning out and telling him to focus on Nines first, and he checks the temperature of the water in the tank that serves as Nines’ bed to make sure it is within acceptable limits before unwrapping the fabric around the mermaid’s body and places his body gently into the water while his head is pillowed on a raised spot, holding it above the water while allowing his body to submerge under the familiar flow of water. He then plucks a small piece of kelp from the shrub at the tip of Nines’ tail, rolls it up, and nudges the mermaid’s mouth open with it, shoving it inside gently so that Nines doesn’t choke on it but can still close his mouth around it and start chewing; Nines’ teeth-grinding won’t be solved in the short future, so for now, using pieces of kelp as a buffer during his sleep is their next best solution. With the blanket now covering his body, Nines sleepily grabs his rock and clutches it on top of his chest, blinking slowly as he no doubt feels the simulated current in his tank before drifting off with the sound of Hector’s croons, and despite the brothers already sleeping, Hank still turns on the projector and shrouds the entire room in the dim, blue glow of simulated underwater effect. For when they wake up, the surfacer signs when Hector lifts an inquisitive eyebrow towards him. Now go take a proper shower. You reek.

He does as Hank says and even brushes his teeth so that he has one more reason to go to bed early. When he gets out to the kitchen, the bowl of noodles he left for Hank has mysteriously disappeared and the pots and utensils have washed themselves, so he runs his fingers through his hair a few times to get them to half-dry before braiding them and plopping himself down next to his partner. ‘Sorry for being late,’ is the first thing Hector says. ‘Bad business.’

Hank nods. ‘I noticed.’

They lapse into silence but no one moves to switch off the lamp.

‘Hank?’

‘Hmm?’

‘What you just did…’

‘You mean reading to the kids?’

‘Managing the two of them at the same time.’

‘Just doing my duty.’

‘Nah,’ Hector rolls onto his side and gives Hank a kiss before the other man can react. ‘You did good.’

Hank doesn’t reply but does draw Hector close to kiss him properly. ‘Night,’ he says, still avoiding Hector’s topic. ‘Sleep. You’ve had a long day.’

Hector slips under.