Word Count: 1101
Fandom: X-Men
Pairing: Hank McCoy x reader
Request(s): None
Warning(s): None
A/N: This is part two of the 'White Lies' one-shot
Weeks pass without incident.
She believes the excuses and he goes on as if nothing happened. But he can't get the memories out of his head. She said she loved him. Was it just the drinks talking? Or could she possibly have meant it? He waves away the thought. Of course, she didn't love him. Not like that anyways. He was her best friend and that's all he'd ever be. He had no shot.
"Hey, Hank. How's the work coming along? Any new breakthroughs?" She asked, slouching onto the table and smiling up at him. His heart pounds at the closeness. He could lean forward a bit and place his lips right on hers -
He blinks away the thought and grins back at her.
"Work is going well. I'm really close to finding what I'm looking for. A few more days maybe," he said. "How have you been?"
"That's great," she says, leaning her hand on her chin. He looks back down at the microscope. "I'm okay. But I keep having these strange images flash in my head every so often."
He freezes.
"What images?" He asks, trying to act coolly.
"You're going to think I'm so weird," she says, blushing. He shakes his head and looks at her, smiling encouragingly.
"No I won't," he says, prompting her to tell him.
"They're of us ... kissing," she said, looking away. He laughed softly, pretending to be confused.
"I know! I know, it's crazy, right? That would never happen, but it's so real!" she exclaims, laughing awkwardly and throwing her arms up in exasperation.
His heart fell to the floor. Of course, he knew it would never happen, but hearing her say it was like pouring lemon juice in the wound.
"Right," he mumbled, dejectedly.
"Sorry. You probably think I'm insane now. I shouldn't have told you," she apologises.
"No, no it's fine. I don't think that at all," he replies after a moment of thought. "Actually, I have to tell you something -"
"Sorry, Hank! I have to go. Charles just told me he wanted to speak with me! Can I talk to you later?" She asks, halfway out the door.
"Yeah ... yeah, alright. Bye," he says, but she's already gone.
"Are you going to tell them?" Charles asks. Hank fidgeted in his place, looking anywhere but the professor's face.
"Tell what to who?" He asked.
"(Y/N). Are you going to tell her what happened that night?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Hank insisted.
"Don't lie to me, Hank. I can read your mind. I know what happened. But (Y/N) doesn't. So are you going to tell her?"
"No, yes, maybe," he replies.
"You have to. She's starting to remember," Charles says. Hank sighs and looks over at the man in the wheelchair.
"I was kind of hoping she would think it was all some crazy dream," he said.
"You can't keep it from her forever. Eventually, she'll find out. She's smart, Hank," Charles says, his voice full of pity.
"I know," Hank says. "I wanted to tell her earlier today, but you told her you needed to see her."
Charles looked confused. "I haven't spoken to her all day."
"What?"
"I said, I haven't talked to her, Hank. I haven't seen her at all," Charles says. Now Hank was confused too.
"But ... she said you - you told her that - why would she leave so abruptly otherwise?" Hank rambled to himself.
"That is a perfect example of avoidance, Hank. She was probably embarrassed," Charles explained. "Tell her, Hank. You have to sometime."
Charles looked at the lanky boy in front of him once more before wheeling out of the office. It was time for his class. Hank was left alone once again, absorbed in his thoughts. How would he break the news?
"Hey (Y/N)? Can I talk to you for a second?" Hank asks, grabbing her arm in the hall as she passes.
"Uh ... yeah, sure," she said. They walk into her classroom, just down the hall, and closing the door behind them. She didn't have a class, luckily.
"What is it, Hank?" She asks as he lets go of her wrist.
"I wanted to talk about those images you keep seeing," he said, blushing a bit, but still persisting.
"They're nothing. Don't worry about it," she said. He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Actually, about that -" he started.
"If you're going to tell me that we really did all that, I'm going to laugh," she said.
"We really did all that," he sighed. Just as promised, she laughed aloud. He didn't smile like usual.
"You're kidding me," she said.
"No," he deadpanned. Her jaw dropped when it finally sank in.
"We ... we kissed ... a lot. A-and I - I tried to ... you're serious?" She stuttered out. He cringed internally but nodded.
"Yeah," he said. "You were drunk, didn't know what you were doing. I know it didn't mean anything, though."
"You told me you loved me," she said softly.
"Yeah. I did, didn't I?" Hank said, pressing his lips together, shifting awkwardly on his feet.
"Did you mean it?" She asks.
He hesitates, not sure how to respond. Should he lie and spare them the end of their friendship? Or should he tell the truth and risk her hating him forever? Maybe she would reciprocate the feelings? Only one way to find out. "Yes."
"Oh," she said. He couldn't look her in the eye. "That's good, then. Yeah?"
"What?" He asks, dumbfounded.
"You didn't honestly think that I didn't mean what I was saying, did you?" She asks.
"Y-you actually ... you love me?" He asked. Was he dreaming?
"Of course I do, you complete and utter dork! Why wouldn't I?" She laughs loudly.
"I-I don't know. I j-just thought that maybe you only liked me like a friend," he muttered. She giggled again.
"For being a genius, you're really dumb," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. He chuckled a bit, still shocked.
He smiled and crashed his lips onto hers. She pulled him closer and he gripped her waist. They pulled away shortly for air.
"I guess you really are more honest when drunk," Hank mumbled against her lips. She shook her head, leaning her forehead against his and looking into his Atlantic blue eyes. He held her close.
"Will you go out with me?" He asks, grinning like an idiot.
"Yes, of course, I will, brainiac," she says.
They quickly break away when the door is slammed open and Peter rushes in. Not quickly enough, apparently.
"Guys! I told you! You owe me twenty bucks, Jean!" Peter ran out of the room, leaving the two alone again. They both broke into fits of laughter, happy they didn't have to hide their feelings any longer.
