So when he came home with a baseball cap tightly over his ears, Garou immediately knew something was up.
“What’s with the hat, Bat?” he asked, standing in front of him to block his hasty walk down the hallway.
“Nothin.’ Just tryin’ something different. Scoot.” He took a step to the left, but Garou mirrored him.
“Is the ‘something different’ acting weird and suspicious? Because if so, I want to commend you on a job well done.” Grinning, he reached out with a quick hand to try and snatch the cap, but Badd bent backwards before elbowing him into the wall and taking two quick steps past.
“I’m serious,” he snapped. “I ain’t in the mood.”
That just made Garou’s smile widen. He may as well have said, ‘Come at me.’
Before Badd could close the door to the bedroom, Garou slipped inside in pursuit, and Badd picked up his bat, brandishing it. Oh. He was serious. Perfect. They hadn’t sparred in weeks, and Garou’s muscles were itching for it.
“I am not fuckin’ around with you, Stretch,” Badd warned, lightly knocking his hand back as he shot in again, sending a singing twang through his knuckles.
Garou licked his bottom lip. “Keep it up, and that’s exactly what we’ll be doing.”
He zipped in once more, driving Badd back, and a few more feints had Badd’s knees hitting the edge of the bed, sending him falling back onto it. He wasn’t done, though, because when Garou pounced on him, he rolled, dropping the bat and grabbing Garou’s wrists to pin him.
“A’right,” Badd growled, dark eyes glaring from under the lip of the hat. “Ya had yer fun. We’re done, hear me?”
“Had? On the contrary. I’m still having fun.” Quickly, he pulled his hands over his head, bringing Badd with him to drop him down just low enough that he could lean up, catching the brim of the hat with his sharp teeth before tossing his neck back, taking it off and getting a first look at what was underneath.
Badd’s hair was…different. The sides had been shaved extremely short into a high undercut, and the top was messy, nowhere near long enough for a pomp. The strands of it flew up in all kinds of directions, like a small, angry, dark fire.
“Oh,” he finally remarked, dumbly.
“Go on, fucker,” Badd snapped back, letting him go and rising, crossing his arms over his chest. “Get your laughs in. Not like I give a shit.”
Garou got up off the bed, silently, walking slowly around him. The longest part at the top trailed down the back of his skull, something like a short mohawk.
“Tony was sick, so there was this new guy, and I was so damn tired from that monster last night, I just…I nodded off.” Gods, Badd was actually pouting. It would have normally been enough to send Garou into hysterics. “So, c’mon. Let’s hear it, yeah?”
But Garou didn’t feel like talking anymore. Instead, he pressed himself to Badd’s back and gave the side of his head a long, slow stroke with his cheek, closing his eyes as the tiny hairs softly brushed his pale skin. It felt amazing, and he did it again, carding his nails through the longer strands on top. Yup, just enough to grab, which he did, making Badd shudder, the tips of his ears turning a deep red.
“Well. You were right. I am surprised.” He said it with a deep rumble in his chest, dragging his teeth across the back of his neck. “Can’t believe you tried to hide this from me.”
“To be fair,” Badd breathed softly, voice dropping, “this wasn’t ‘xactly the reaction I was anticipatin.’ And it’s gonna grow back out so…don’t get attached.”
Garou pushed him forward back onto the bed, and this time Badd welcomed his immediate attention rather than dodging it. “Don’t ruin the moment, ass.”