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Romancing Hodari out of everyone was sort of the plan from the start, and it’s not like I expected a crazy amount of romantic gestures. I was standing comfortably in my room, tracing the edge of my chest scars more in thought, and to check how it had almost finished healing in the mirror. My lips quirked at the sides at how he had invited me a month ago, apparently for a date, and forgotten lunch too. It was adorable, but having to run around the place foraging while wearing a binder felt more difficult than expected.
My eyes dropped to the dresser, and my fingers trailed the now mostly empty draught Tamala had made me. Good thing she had something that sped up the healing process, and I managed to obtain some healing pastes from Chayne. Though having to explain the rather vague chest injury did elicit more intense reactions. I swallowed, hoping I’d be able to convince them I’m actually not dying. I moisturised the skin slowly, before playing some music into my headphones and returning to check on the pie I had in the oven.
I leaned over, noticing how it had baked faster than expected and looked quite close to done. I hummed softly in thought, trying to figure out if it was too much to offer pie to Najuma and Hodari.
The front door to my house opened without warning, and before I knew, my hands darted to hide my chest, staring straight at Najuma, who had caught me in just pants.
“N-najuma?” I turned around immediately, and my hands tangled in an effort to grab the shirt I had left on the chair. “You really shouldn’t come barging in without knocking,” I mumbled, tugging on the shirt, hoping she wouldn’t ask about the scars.
“I am so sorry! I did knock, but you didn’t respond, and I just thought to check if you were home or something, didn’t mean to intrude!” she explained quickly. When I turned around again, she had her hands covering her face.
I exhaled shakily, smoothing down my shirt before gently guiding her hands off. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault, really,” I mumbled, taking off my headphones. “Was there something you needed, hun?”
Her eyes looked up nervously as she fidgeted with the hem of her tunic. “Are you okay? Y-you know, it’s just you were gone to the city for so long, and those scars look big and new.”
I leaned down gently and nodded. “Doing alright, don’t worry. I had surgery, and it went well. These aren’t serious at all, okay?”
She breathed out slowly and loosened up her hands, just interlocking them instead. “Okay, well, let us know if you need any medicine. Dad always hoards it for me. He somehow thinks I need it all, but it’s more people like you who need it,” she grumbled. My heart tugged a little, appreciating how thoughtful she was. She paused, looking up at me as if she had something else to say. “By the way… did he do it?”
I blinked slowly. “Sorry, hun. Do what?”
“You know, the date, did he give you a pin?” Her light brown eyes reminded me of fawns, the colour similar, as it seemed to settle into a question.
I could feel my face heat up quicker than I’d expected. “No?” I questioned, suddenly interested in how my blueberry pie was doing again.
“Huh, with how much he talks about you, I’m surprised,” she mumbled before quickly adding, shaking her palms at me, “Don’t worry though! I’m sure he’s working on it.” I tugged at the collar of my shirt, trying not to flush too hard at the thought of getting a pin from him. He’d probably say a few sweet lines, bring me somewhere pretty, perhaps.
The silence stretched, and the heat from the oven seemed to surround my presence even more, making the room hot. She paused, following my eyes and smelling the air slowly. Her eyes shone a little, darting to the lit oven. “Wait, is that blueberry pie?”
“Oh, yeah, you reminded me. I was actually thinking of dropping by with a couple of slices. Do you know if your dad likes it?”
She had a little confident smile on her face when my words came. “Well, he doesn’t really like sweet things, but I’m sure he’ll eat it in front of you anyway.” Najuma had tried to hide the way her smile threatened to turn into a giggle.
I laughed softly at the thought and stepped aside to grab a fork, hoping to check if the pie was cooked. “Is that what you’d like to see?” I gently nudged her shoulder with my elbow. When the oven door opened, the hot air steamed up the goggles on her head, making me smile to myself.
She took a step back, smiling. “Well, I’ll be happily enjoying mine while watching it, yes.” Her hands were tucked behind her back, and she swung her body in my peripheral vision.
“I think between the two of us, we can probably make him relax a little more,” I breathed a laugh, “What other way to do it? Well, maybe we should try not to give him a heart attack, though.” I shrugged, pulling the rest of her laugh into the warm kitchen.
***
Najuma came back beaming more than usual, and the way she pulled a whole slice of pie onto the table made me cross my arms in suspicion. “Now, where’d you get that?”
“Oh, I dropped by his place earlier and he offered me a slice!” Najuma explained, smiling to herself as she stretched out a blueprint onto the dining table and started scribbling notes. “He’ll come by later with the rest, don’t worry. But I was kinda worried since he was gone for so long, because of those new big scars and—”
I slowly quirked a strong brow. “Scars?” I repeated. He didn’t say anything about something dangerous when leaving for the city.
Her hands jumped to her mouth, freezing like she wasn’t meant to say something like that.
“Najuma,” my voice lowered in urgency. “What is this about?”
“He said it’s fine and it’s safe!” Najuma waved her hands frantically, pouting red and embarrassed. She had remembered to promise him not to tell her dad, but now that plan had went straight out the window. “It wasn’t that big, I promise,” she mumbled, suddenly rolling up her blueprints, and shuffling off the stool.
“No, no. Najuma, don’t leave just yet.” I walked over, holding her by her shoulder. “How did he get hurt? Did he look like he was in pain or something? He should not be walking over here if they’re that bad.” The thought of him wincing on the way here pained me in a way that I couldn’t describe, and my hand unintentionally held her firmer.
“Dad!” she protested, shaking my hand off her shoulder and stomping her foot against the ground. “He’s fine! He wasn’t in pain, and it’s already healing, so don’t bother him about it, okay?” Her eyes looked up, stilling and waiting for me to agree.
A sigh fell from my lips. “You know I can’t do that. I’ll have to check on him.”
***
With the pie in my hands, I gently carried it over to their house, hearing the sounds of argument coming out the front door, and peeked my head in. “Check on who?” I asked.
Hodari immediately walked towards me, eyes scanning me like I just came back from fighting a dragon. His hands hovered on my shoulders. “That’d be you. ‘eard you got scars. What happened?” he asked, hands hovering under the pie, and gently taking it, settling in on the dining table.
My expression must’ve stayed convincingly calm as I watched nothing escalate. My eyes darted to Najuma’s guilt ridden face and her fidgeting of her hands like she already knew she had messed up. I exhaled a soft laugh and gave her my best smile. “Don’t worry about it. I just didn’t wanna worry your pops here. We did agree not to give him a heart attack.”
She lifted her head, her hands slowing in their restlessness. Hodari turned back around, gauging both of our expressions.
“I had surgery in the city. The scars are pretty much healed at this point,” I explained, watching his mouth open before I cut in, “And yes, I have been resting and staying home, not raising my hands above my chest and using both healing ointments from Tamala and Chayne.”
“Every day without missin’ one?”
I nodded. “I even had help from recovery nurses in the city.”
His lips barely had a quirk. “You know I ain’t trying to impose,” he mumbled, before a warm calloused hand came to hold my elbow slowly, bringing my eyes to his face, “but what made you need surgery out of all things, darlin’? Am I… allowed to see the scars?” His hands gently trailed up to my shoulder.
I opened my mouth and shut it, pursed my lips, trying to figure out how to word it in a way that made sense. “Do you remember when I talked to you about gender and everything?” I asked, soft and waiting for him to think and nod briefly at me. “I had chest surgery, so it’s made me all flat in the front,” I explained, smoothing down my own shirt.
“Right,” he nodded, eyes steady on me as he processed that fact. “Does it hurt?”
I shook my head. “More like sore than anything.”
His exhaled relief was stronger than I had realised, and he smiled. “That’s great, but from now on, I’m bringing you all your meals. There ain’t no way you’re cooking in this state, not until I’m confident you’re okay,” he said firmly, squeezing my arm in emphasis.
“Yeah, of course,” I mumbled, though I could feel the heat rising to my face, making me awfully conscious of the way his dark blue eyes landed softly on me. I looked down as usual, smoothing down my shirt, happy that it’s now gone, but still awfully conscious of the packer sitting in my boxers.
Hodari slowly stripped his mining googles, though I could feel his concern still leaking through his movements and I stood there awkwardly, flushed. His eyes met mine again and he gently held my hand.
Najuma cut through the moment without an issue. “Oh, that makes so much more sense.” Najuma piped up from between us, beaming.
Hodari sighed softly, before agreeing with her. “Better than you made it to be.”
“Hey, I tried to make you calm and you just kept going!” Her cheeks were puffed with annoyance and she crossed her arms, staring him down.
“That ain’t what happened. Anyway Naj, would you mind starting some of the stew?”
She whined, flipping her braids when she turned away. “Why me? I thought it was supposed to be your night to cook.”
“I’ll come an’ help you in a bit,” Hodari said, eyes lingering back on me before stepping closer, a warm hand settling comfortably on my waist. “Besides, I’d like to take care of you better.”
The moment she noticed his hand, she squeaked and ran off.
I could feel the warmth of his body beside me, and we both watched her run off.
His voice was lower, gravelly when he was talking to me. “So, am I allowed to see them?” His hands moved to settle and pulled me gently in until my side pressed against his chest. The movement made my heart beat faster and I saw the way his eyes drop down to my lips briefly.
“Yeah, you are,” I replied, biting my lip in thought.
“My room?”
I nodded.
I sat on the edge of his bed, testing the soft give and the blankets. This wasn’t the first time I’ve been here.
Hodari sat beside me, eyes respectful as he waited. I hesitated, wondering if he would be more worried at seeing them as they are, before I shook the worries away and unbuttoned my shirt slowly.
The moment my scars bore itself to his eyes I breathed in gently. “Darlin’,” he mumbled, eyes landing on the scars. His hands hovered slowly, eyes darting back up to ask wordlessly. The jagged look of the scars still looked scary to an extent, but he was calm. That reassuring look in his eyes made my heart warm over.
“Yeah, go ahead. Gently,” I advised him.
He touched around the scars, warm stocky hands caressing my skin with a soft care. “I’ll help y’dab with some ointment if you ever need help.” My eyes were more focused on him, than being conscious at this point, watching those pink strong arms, wondering what they’d feel like closer and more confident on my skin.
I tried to pull my thoughts to a more appropriate place. “I’m quite happy with the results. I feel so much better,” I admitted softly, bringing my attention back to my flat chest.
“That’s good,” he rumbled those words in his chest and hands settled comfortably on my waist instead. “You look good like this. ‘M glad. Won’t hafta wear that binder again, right?” His hand tentatively darted back up again.
I breathed the words out, “Yeah.” The memory of him being stunned at the function of a binder flashed through my mind, and I remembered how he was strongly against it during physical activity, before I explained the proper sizing, such as wearing a size or two up. Nowadays, his slow, affectionate touch reminded me he was just looking out for me.
“Watchin’ you grow like this, it makes me want to hold you even more. So confident and strong.” The words fell from his mouth, kind and caring, like a warm cloud even though I couldn’t stop and think about how attractive he was in return.
“Thank you. And I missed you while I was gone.” My hand landed on top of his, brushing the knuckles and pressing his palm. I watched the way those gears spun in his head at my gaze and I sat closer, until there was less than a few good inches between us.
He exhaled softly and smiled. “I was hopin’ you’d come by quickly. But you know, Najuma is waitin’ on me,” he said those words with a grin, like he wouldn’t have stopped if that wasn’t the case. I could pretty much feel the way colour bloomed into my cheeks.
His warm hand came to cup my face. “Look at you. Stunnin’.” His lips met mine. The soft press of his lips against mine. It was slow and savouring, the way his lips dragged over mine slowly and he groaned at the torturous pace. I could feel myself pressing against him when he pulled me in closer, a hand between my shoulders. I felt like I was melting into his presence, like I could close my eyes and he’d just take care of me without an issue.
He broke apart, murmuring against my lips. “Tell me if anything hurts, darlin’. Maybe… just another.” Hodari’s voice was low and private. This time he waited, tilting my chin up barely just to help us. I rested my hands on his back. My thighs shifted closer before I captured his lips, internally sighing at the feeling.
I broke apart reluctantly and mumbled, “O-okay, I think we should head back before Najuma scolds us.”
Hodari breathed out amused. “In such a rush, darlin’?” He stood up with a little grin, before extending a hand. “Here.”
“No? I was just—you said—” My mind ran around in circles, trying to backpedal from what he took from those words. I used his hand anyway to help me up, and one of his hands jumped to my waist to steady me. He gave me a chuckle, tucking his head away like he was embarrassed at the thought.
“Don’t worry about it, and let me take care of you, darlin’. Once you got some warm stew in you, maybe you could stay the night,” he hummed and held my gaze intently.
I rubbed my neck at the implication and nodded. “Yeah, sounds good,” I mumbled, before feeling my smile settle at how warm and wanting his care was.