Work Text:
"So…which one?" Clyde gives the copy of Superhero Beat in his hands one last contemplative look before leaning forward, his beanbag-chair throne crunching obnoxiously beneath him. He holds the magazine up in the air and grins knowingly, pointing at the photo that makes up the centerfold of the issue. "Wait, don't tell me! It's that purple guy, Mysterioso or whatever he's called, isn't it?" The brunette self-proclaimed Lord of Darkness flutters his fingers in the air, gesturing to the violet-colored accents of his own costume, accidentally knocking his giant crown askew in the process. "Seriously, who knew purple was such a crowd-pleaser?"
The most infamous thief in town sighs, bringing both his hands up to rub his aching temples. It's just past nine o'clock in the morning and he's only been sitting in the Fortress of Clyde-itude for approximately six minutes, yet he's already regretting his decision to come here in the first place. He should have known better than to try to ask Clyde for help with something like this. "No," Feldspar mutters to the floor, "not Mysterion."
"Really?" Clyde blinks in surprise, settling back on his crunchy throne to study the photo again. "Are you sure? He's, like, the leader of those Freedom Guys, isn't he? Doesn't everyone love him?"
"Freedom Pals," the thief corrects, rising to his feet and kicking his own beanbag chair to the side. This is definitely something he should be handling on his own – what the hell had he been thinking? At least he'd realized his mistake before he'd opened his big mouth and said too much. There's still time for him to get out of here without setting off a Clyde-tastrophe of epic proportions; he just needs to get his magazine back. "And yes, I'm sure, but–"
"Well, then it's gotta be this dude!" Clyde interrupts as Feldspar approaches, jabbing at the page with one triumphant finger, so forcefully that he nearly rips the photo right out of the magazine. "I mean, come on, look at him!" The brunette shakes his head, his brown eyes wide with awe as he stares at the 'him' in question. "I didn't think anyone could get that hot!"
Feldspar glances down at where Clyde is pointing and can't stop himself from immediately rolling his own gray eyes with a shudder. "Oh, God, please tell me you're joking," he says, involuntarily shaking his arms in an attempt to get rid of the uncomfortable prickly feeling of utter cringe that's creeping along his entire body. Just the sight of Super Craig, even just a picture of him, is enough to make the thief's stomach turn. Despite the fact that his powers aren't even that impressive and that he's a second-tier member at best, the raven-haired hero is still positioned front and center in the photo, flexing his disgusting muscles like a douchebag, with an infuriatingly cocky smile on his stupid face. "He's not that attractive. Plus," Feldspar adds, as Clyde snaps his head up, clearly about to protest, "have you ever seen him in interviews? He's such an asshole! I don't know how the hell he even has fans, for Christ's sake."
In response, Clyde stretches out his arm to shake the magazine right in Feldspar's face. "Uh, that's how! You seriously don't think he's hot?" When his best friend again confirms his opinion with another eyeroll, Clyde can only breathe out an incredulous, "Wow." He squints down at the centerfold once more. "Man," he whines, "I don't know, then! You've said no to the two hottest Freedom Dudes there are!"
"What the fu– Are you kidding me?!" Feldspar blurts out before he can stop himself. "Have you even looked at Wonder–" Shit! He claps one hand over his mouth, his cheeks flushing bright red, but it's two seconds too late – he's already revealed more than enough and now it's too late for him to retreat. Clyde might not be the smartest out there when it comes to math or common sense or…most things, actually, now that he thinks about it; but his best friend has an uncanny ability to turn into a fucking genius whenever it involves interfering in Feldspar's personal life.
"Wonder…" Clyde repeats, gazing down at the Freedom Pals photo with renewed interest, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Oh! Wonder Tweek! He's their Elementalist, right?" He holds the magazine closer to his face to try to get a better look as Feldspar lets out a barely audible groan, tugging his navy blue hat down over his eyes. "Hmm," Clyde muses, "well, he's kinda hard to see cause he's, like, hiding behind Screwdriver Man over here, but if he's the one you want, we can totally do that!" He drops the magazine into his lap and takes off his crown to run a hand through his thick brown hair. "It might take a little while, though. I just used the last of my chloroform on the Taco Bell guys to restock my mini-fridge, so I'll have to make more–"
"What– no!" Feldspar snatches up the magazine, tucking it safely back into one of the inner pockets of his cape, staring at Clyde like he's completely lost his mind – again. "I don't need chloroform!"
Clyde scrunches up his face, confusion written across his features as he tilts his head to the side. "Huh?" he asks, as eloquent as ever. "I don't get it; how are you gonna kidnap him without chloroform? Aren't you afraid he'll, like," he mimes shooting lightning bolts from his fingers, "use his zappy powers on you?"
For the love of… Feldspar closes his eyes for a moment while he silently counts to ten, praying to all the gods of thievery for strength. "I don't want to kidnap Wonder Tweek," he corrects the brunette, overly conscious of the way that just saying the hero's name makes him want to smile uncontrollably, "I want to, you know, I just…want to meet him."
"Oh." It's clear by the sudden slump of Clyde's shoulders that he's disappointed by this news. "Wait, then why do you need me? Didn't that article say they had an autograph signing in town tomorrow?" He sets his crown back onto his head. "Just go there!"
"Uh, I can't 'just go there'," Feldspar replies, making quotation marks in the air with both hands, "or did you forget those posters that are plastered on every single tree and storefront in the city?"
For a good ten seconds, Clyde just stares blankly at him, but then the meaning of Feldspar's words dawns on him. "Ohhhh!" he exclaims, pointing finger guns at his friend. "Right! The Wanted posters! I totally forgot!" Letting out a low whistle, he shakes his head slowly. "Jeez, you must have really pissed off the Wizard, dude. He hates me, but not even I got a bounty put on my head! What did you even do?"
"It doesn't matter." Feldspar crosses his arms, barely holding back a smirk as he thinks about the old stick he has stashed away in one of his many secret treasure caches in the woods. "What matters is that with those posters out there, I can't just go walking up to a team full of superheroes without getting myself arrested!" He shivers, a long-ago memory resurfacing for a split-second. "And I'm not going through that again."
"Okay, okay, okay, so we need to think of a way for you to get this Weather Wonder guy alone, then!" Clyde hops up from his beanbag throne and slings an arm around Feldspar's shoulders, nudging him in the side with his elbow and grinning. "But before we get to that, there's the tiny matter of what it's going to cost you–"
Before he's even finished speaking, Feldspar has shrugged the brunette's arm off his shoulders and reached into another of his cape's hidden pockets. He pulls out a stack of Taco Bell coupons and Clyde's face lights up in an instant; grabbing the coupons, he hugs them to his chest like they're a rare, precious commodity and not something that gets delivered to every mailbox in town twice a week.
"Alright!" he chirps, wiping a happy tear away from his eye. "We've got ourselves a deal, brochacho! Let's get brainstorming!"
Thirteen hours, eleven minutes, and one monstrous fast food delivery order later, Feldspar thinks they might finally be onto something with their latest idea. Or, to be more accurate, Clyde's latest idea. There's no way Feldspar would have ever come up with anything like it if left to his own devices, but even he has to admit that it has some real potential to work wonders – pun intended. At the very least, it doesn't sound like something that is going to immediately get him hauled off to jail, which is more than he can say for the first few suggestions the Lord of Darkness had thrown out.
The only downside is, well…what he's going to have to wear to pull it off.
"Are you sure this is all you have?" Feldspar gingerly reaches a hand towards the most flamboyant costume he's ever seen in all his nineteen years of life. Everything about it is so blindingly, sickeningly…pink. It looks like something a cotton candy unicorn threw up. Retracting his arm just before his fingers make contact with the fluffy, magenta-colored boa draped around the outfit's neck, he looks up at Clyde, almost pleadingly. "I don't have any other options?"
"Nope," Clyde smiles brightly through the bite of taco he'd just crammed into his mouth, "this is it!" He shoves the costume at Feldspar, who takes it reluctantly. "It's so great though! I mean, you always wear those boring brown potato-looking…uh," he pauses, flinching slightly under the thief's glare, "you know, I just meant… You don't usually wear colors! Nobody's going to recognize you in this costume, and isn't that what you want?"
Feldspar sighs, knowing that Clyde has a point, but hating it all the same. "I guess," he mutters eventually, "but do you really think this is going to work?" He doesn't know what he's expecting Clyde to say, exactly, because it's not like the brunette can see into the future or anything; but if he's going to be forced to wear this hot pink, skintight, embarrassing as all hell costume, he wants some reassurance that it's not all going to be for nothing, Goddammit.
"Totally!" Clyde nods vigorously, stuffing another half a taco into his face. "Dude, it's the greatest plan ever! If you save the Freedom Fighters–"
"Pals," Feldspar corrects for the thousandth time.
"–that's what I said, the Freedom Pals!" Clyde waves his hand dismissively. "If you save them from being attacked right before the signing, they'll have to talk to you! And don't worry," he continues before the thief can say a word, "I'll make sure you get a chance to be alone with Wonder Tweek." He laughs when Feldspar's cheeks turn as pink as the costume in his hands. "Trust me, all you have to do is put on that outfit and let me do the rest!"
In spite of the fact that putting his faith in Clyde hasn't exactly yielded fabulous results in the past, Feldspar can already feel his heart beginning to race with excitement and anticipation at the thought that in less than twenty-four hours, he might be face-to-face with his number one celebrity crush. He might even get to touch him, which…holy shit. He eyes the outfit in his arms again for a long moment, internally debating the pros and cons of going through with this.
Pro: Wonder Tweek, duh.
Cons: He could get recognized and arrested, the Freedom Pals could mistake him for an enemy instead of a fellow hero, Clyde could accidentally actually hurt someone and it would be all Feldspar's fault for agreeing to the plan, he'd have to be seen by the general public in this god awful pink monstrosity of an outfit…
"Okay," he finally agrees. Clyde lets out a loud whoop of joy. "But," Feldspar adds, holding up one finger, his tone deadly serious, "if something goes wrong and I end up getting caught, you'd better believe I'll trade my freedom for yours in a heartbeat."
"Oh, come on," Clyde scoffs, lounging back on his beanbag throne, "what could possibly go wrong?"
The answer to that question, surprising absolutely no one, is everything.
Feldspar ducks behind a nearby car, dropping to his knees and throwing both his arms over his head to shield himself from the debris flying through the air. A few feathers from the boa fastened around his neck tickle his nose and he has to fight hard to keep himself from sneezing and thus drawing any attention to himself. God, what he would give to have his cape and hat back right now; unfortunately, both of those items are currently lying on the floor of Clyde's fortress. The thief had wanted to bring them along just in case, but considering the fact that he'd only just barely managed to squeeze his body into this costume this morning, there wasn't exactly anywhere he would be able to keep them concealed. Nothing could be concealed in this thing. Feldspar had been mortified when he'd looked in Clyde's full-length mirror and seen himself, from the tips of his newly spiked black faux hawk, down past the glittery domino mask he wore over his eyes, along every seam of the tight pink jumpsuit that might as well have been painted on, all the way to the platform shoes on his feet. He looked ridiculous – and that was before Clyde insisted he wear the boa too.
Although, the brunette had been right about one thing: there's no chance that anyone who sees him like this will ever guess that he is the notorious Feldspar, thief extraordinaire. Thank God.
Somewhere off to his left, a loud, shrill scream is abruptly silenced, and the thief's stomach clenches with dread as he presses himself flat against the side of the car. Oh, no. Clyde had sworn up and down that nobody was going to actually get hurt when he'd explained what he was going to do today, but that was before all hell had broken loose and he'd unleashed literal demons upon the city.
It was supposed to be such a simple, stupid thing. Clyde was going to be up on top of the roof of the South Park Mall, where the Freedom Pals' autograph signing was going to be held. He was going to do the whole dramatic villain thing, threaten the city's safety, laugh maniacally for a bit, proclaim himself to be the one true ultimate leader of the planet, the whole nine yards; and then, when he had everyone's attention, he was going to read something out of a book he'd shown Feldspar the night before. The whole thing was in Latin, but Clyde had said he'd gotten it translated when he'd bought it at a flea market, and that it was full of ancient spells of mischief.
"It's not one of the apocalypse ones," he'd reassured Feldspar while flipping through the pages, his brow furrowed in concentration, "it's– Aha! Found it!" He pointed to a short paragraph. "This one! It'll make everyone start talking backwards, and while they're all panicking and confused, you show up and say, um…" He peers down at the words on the page. "...oh, right, yeah, so you just say, 'Curso Reverso!' and everything will go back to normal and you'll be the hero! It'll be great!"
Feldspar isn't sure if Clyde had been scammed with the book's translation or if he'd read the wrong incantation, but either way, the situation they're all in right now is miles away from 'great'.
"Kite!" A voice suddenly rises above the chaos. "Behind you!"
"Thanks, Tools– Ah, Goddammit!" Human Kite shouts, and a second later a small, unconscious creature goes sailing over Feldspar's head, crashing down onto the asphalt of the parking lot in a heap. "What the hell are these things?"
Imps, Feldspar wants to call out in response, but he keeps his mouth tightly clamped shut. The last thing he wants to do right now is draw any more attention to himself. He's already suffered enough humiliation as it is.
Just as he and Clyde had agreed, while the Lord of Darkness was perched on the edge of the roof, cackling away like some eighties cartoon villain, Feldspar was hidden behind one of the rows of hedges lining the pathway to the mall's front entrance. From there, he had a clear view of nearly the entire parking lot, and he was more than ready to jump out and confront Clyde as soon as the brunette finished cursing everyone.
What Feldspar hadn't been ready for was the gigantic, fiery portal that had materialized five feet above the parking lot the instant the last word of the incantation had passed Clyde's lips. He could only watch, frozen behind the hedges, as what seemed like hundreds of red, winged creatures poured out of the portal and began wreaking absolute havoc. They couldn't be any more than two feet tall, but what they lacked in height they made up for in speed and aggression. They had swarmed the entire parking lot in seconds, tossing vehicles aside like they weighed nothing, to attack anyone and everyone in sight with their wickedly sharp teeth and dagger-like claws.
The thief had whipped his head up to lock eyes with Clyde on the roof, intending to shout some variation of, "What the hell did you do?" But before he could get a word out, all twelve of the Freedom Pals had burst onto the scene, Mysterion barking out orders left and right. Feldspar had barely had enough time to duck back down out of sight before a flurry of angry mosquitoes had buzzed right over his head. His heart thundering in his chest, he had desperately begun trying to formulate an escape plan, now that the real heroes were here, but all he could come up with in the moment was, run.
And so he had – but he hadn't gotten very far. Feldspar hunches forward, hugging his knees, gritting his teeth against the swell of hysteria rising inside him. He can't afford to panic right now, not here, not when he's in the middle of a literal demon onslaught dressed in the most fucking ostentatious outfit ever. He might as well have a glittery goddamn target painted on his back. Summoning all of his courage, he twists his body around to peer through the car's windows, but it's impossible to tell from his current position exactly what is going on or where. With a frustrated sigh, Feldspar has just about decided that it's time to throw caution to the wind and simply make a break for it, imps be damned, but that's when he hears it: the sweetest voice to have ever graced his eardrums.
"There's too many of them!" Wonder Tweek shrieks. An icy chill blows through the air, leaving tiny specks of ice glistening on Feldspar's fingernails in its wake. "I don't know if I can do it!"
Yes, you can! Feldspar wants to call out to him, but the words freeze in his throat as soon as he opens his mouth. The worst thing he could do is distract Wonder Tweek while he's in the middle of battle like this, Not just because causing him to lose focus right now could have disastrous results, but because he knows that those words would mean absolutely nothing coming from him. Wonder Tweek, despite being the blonde superhero of Feldspar's dreams, would never look twice at a thief like him, and he knows it.
A sharp pang hits his chest and Feldspar sinks down to the ground again, his heart aching. This whole plan had been so stupid. Pointless and stupid. He should have never even tried. What had he even been hoping for, anyway? He'd told Clyde that all he'd wanted was to be able to meet Wonder Tweek, but it had been obvious that even his infamously clueless best friend had known that was a gigantic lie. He wanted so much more than that.
So much more…
Feldspar is so lost in thought that he doesn't see the imp creeping its way towards him until it's too late. The small creature darts forward, sinking its fangs deep into the thief's leg, just above his ankle. With a yelp, Feldspar shakes his foot furiously, but it's no use; the imp is latched on tight. He jumps up, howling in pain, completely forgetting the fact that he had been trying not to draw attention to himself.
"Who's that?" he vaguely hears one of the Freedom Pals call out. "Mysterion, did you recruit someone else?!"
If Mysterion responds to the question, Feldspar doesn't hear it. He's too busy trying to fend off the seven other imps that have descended upon him. Three are crawling up his back, two more are clinging to his arms, their sharp claws digging into the skin of his wrists, and two others are perched on each of his shoulders, screeching into his ears, their voices hellishly shrill. Feldspar stumbles across the parking lot, tears of pain stinging his eyes both from the sound and the wounds the creatures are inflicting upon him.
"Shit!" another one of the heroes cries. "We have to help him!"
Feldspar tries to turn to see who had spoken, but just as he goes to take another step, the imp attached to his ankle bites down even harder. The thief lets out another yelp, loses his balance, and crashes to the ground, the back of his head bouncing off the asphalt with a dull thud. He feels something warm near his left arm, and with what little strength he has left, he turns his head. The last thing he sees before he slips into unconsciousness is one little imp grinning at him evilly as it lights up the sleeve of his jumpsuit with its purple, fiery breath.
The next time Feldspar opens his eyes, all he can see is a bright white light all around him. "Oh, Goddammit," he mumbles, his words barely audible even to his own ears. That's just great. After all that he's endured in his life, he's been killed by a bunch of tiny, obnoxious imps? This is what he gets for listening to Clyde. "Ugh," he groans. He's going to go haunt the hell out of that supposed Lord of Darkness as soon as he can get up the energy to move.
"Oh, you're awake!" The voice that suddenly fills the air is somehow familiar, though Feldspar's brain is too fuzzy for him to be able to place it at the moment. "Try not to move too much, okay? I healed you as much as I could, but, um, sometimes it takes a little while to get all your strength back up."
Huh? That's weird, Feldspar thinks, his forehead wrinkling slightly as he frowns, trying to make sense of the words. Why would he need healing if he was a ghost? Unless… He blinks a few times, the bright light overhead shimmering for a moment before his vision clears and he sees that it's emanating from a round, fluorescent light fixture attached to the ceiling. "Where…am I?" Feldspar asks, his voice coming out in a hoarse whisper.
"Our base," the same voice from before answers. "You were hurt pretty badly, so I brought you here before… Um, so I could make sure you were okay."
"Oh." Feldspar is still confused as hell, but grateful all the same. "Uh, thanks." He slowly, gingerly, props himself up on his elbows, noting that he's lying on a table, and turns, so he can properly thank his rescuer. "I, uh–"
Oh, holy shit.
Wonder Tweek – how had he not recognized the voice?! – is sitting on a folding chair not three feet from him. Everything Feldspar had been about to say completely disappears from his mind at the sight of the hero, looking just as hot and gorgeous and perfect as ever. He can't do any more than simply stare as Wonder Tweek tilts his head, his brilliant green eyes wide and glimmering with concern.
"Are you okay?" he asks, rising from the chair and tucking a lock of golden blonde hair behind his ear. Feldspar is mesmerized by the gesture, and he's curious if Wonder Tweek's hair is as soft as he's always imagined it would be.
"I, uh…" Feldspar repeats, not knowing how to answer the question. Physically, yes, he appears to be just fine, thanks to Wonder Tweek's amazing healing abilities. Beyond that, though, he has absolutely no clue how he's feeling. He can't believe that he's actually alone with Wonder Tweek, and in the Freedom Pals' secret base, no less. It's a dream come true, and he's terrified now that he's going to immediately fuck it up. "I…"
A flash of pink catches his eye and his stomach sinks as he realizes what he's still wearing. The mask is gone, lost to God knows where, but the rest of his outfit is still embarrassingly present. His face heats up instantly and he's so overcome with humiliation that he almost misses Wonder Tweek's next words.
"It's okay," the hero is saying, and when Feldspar refocuses on him, he sees that Wonder Tweek is nervously fidgeting with his fingers. "The other heroes, um… They don't know. And don't worry," he hurries to add, "I didn't tell them."
"Didn't tell them…what?" Feldspar crosses his arms over his chest, like that's going to do anything to hide the fact that he looks like a metrosexual Christmas tree.
"Who you are," Wonder Tweek says, like it's incredibly obvious. A shadow of doubt crosses his face for a moment. "I mean…you are, um, the thief everyone's looking for, right? Feldspar?"
Feldspar's heart literally skips a couple of beats when Wonder Tweek says his name. "How did you know?" he asks, stupidly.
A pink tinge spreads over Wonder's Tweek's cheeks, and he lifts a hand to run it through his tangled blonde hair. "Um, oh, well…" he starts, "...you know, there's all those posters around the city." He reaches into the front pocket of his navy blue sweatshirt and pulls out a cell phone. He taps the screen, swipes to the right a couple of times, and then holds the device up for Feldspar to see. "I don't know why you're wearing, um, that," he gestures to Feldspar's outfit, "right now, but I've seen your picture enough times that it was easy to recognize you."
Feldspar stares at the screen in front of him, at his own face staring right back at him. "You have my Wanted poster as your phone's wallpaper?" He's almost whispering, too afraid to hope that this means what he so desperately wants it to mean. "Why?"
Wonder Tweek slips his phone back into his pocket, the blush on his face deepening. "Honestly… I've always wanted to meet you," he admits quietly. "You're kind of…my celebrity crush, I guess?" At Feldspar's look of complete and utter shock, the blonde hero covers his face with his hands. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry! That's such a weird thing for me to say, especially after I brought you here alone, Jesus Christ, I didn't mean to– You probably think I'm such a creep now!"
Feldspar sits up all the way, his legs hanging off the edge of the table. "No," he says, softly but firmly. "I don't think that at all." He has no idea where the sudden rush of confidence comes from, but somehow he finds the nerve to lean forward and gently comb his fingers through Wonder Tweek's hair – and yes, he can confirm now that it does in fact feel the way he'd always dreamed. "You're, uh…you too, I mean, I crush– you're my crush, too. Uh, celebrity crush, not, like, crush crush, like smashing. Unless you want to? Smash, I mean." Oh, God. What is happening to him? Mortified, Feldspar squeezes his eyes shut, wishing he had his hat to hide beneath. "I mean," he tries again, his face burning, "I've, uh, always wanted to meet you, too. I actually, uh… That's why I'm wearing these stupid clothes, so I could talk to you, uh, you know…incognito."
There's silence for a moment, and Feldspar is immediately worried that he's said the wrong thing. But before he can launch into another round of word vomit to try to fix it, the scent of cinnamon fills his nose and a pair of impossibly soft lips ghost against his cheek in the sweetest, chastest – and, if he's honest, the only – kiss he's ever experienced. Warm breath tickles the side of his face and then Wonder Tweek whispers in his ear, "I like your other clothes better." He pulls away, and Feldspar opens his eyes just in time to see the hero take him by the hand, lacing their fingers together. "You should wear them next time."
"Next time?" Feldspar echoes dumbly.
Wonder Tweek bites his lower lip. "I mean, if you wanted to, um, see me…again," he says. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed… I just… I'd like to get to know you, and I thought, um, since you said you wanted to meet me too, that, um–"
"Oh!" Feldspar's brain finally catches up. "Yes, uh, I mean, yes, I want to see you again, uh, if you do? Want to see me?" His brow furrows. "But, uh, what about the other heroes? If they see me, I'll be arrested for sure."
"Don't worry about them." Wonder Tweek tugs on Feldspar's arm, pulling him into a hug when the thief hops off of the table. Planting another kiss on his cheek, the hero murmurs against his skin, "You're under my protection now."
Feldspar hugs him back tightly, hardly able to believe any of this is real. Maybe, just maybe, he should trust Clyde more often.
