The Grumpy Side of Happy
A/N: Drabble request with Happy for anonymous. 1. The skirt is supposed to be this short. 10. If you use up all the hot water again, I swear to god! You’re on the couch for a month!! 14. Take. It. Off. Hope you enjoy it, anony!
You had come out of the change room to find a very bored Happy leaning against the wall. He looked you up and down, sighing deeply.
“Get back in there and take that off.”
Happy’s face went from bored to annoyed.
“Take. It. Off.” His voice was a low growl.
“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to say later tonight at the clubhouse?”
You had dragged Happy to the mall to pick out something for the party at the Sons clubhouse that night. Generally he didn’t give a damn what you wore, but in this case, the skirt you had tried on - you’d admit, resembled more of a belt - had not passed the the Happy clothing approval rating.
‘The skirt is supposed to be this short.” You rolled your eyes at his expression.
“You’re my Old Lady, not a croweater.”
It was your turn to be annoyed.
“Hap, I wasn’t actually going to get this. I know you’re not exactly the comedic type, but I was kidding.”
In actual fact, you were kind of hoping he would have a positive reaction to it, and you could use it at a later time when you were alone with him.
Sometimes Happy was soft, a quiet doter on you, but he had been a straight up pain in the ass since he’d woken up and you were done with it. You knew this wasn’t his ideal way to spend his time, but you liked having his opinion on what you wore, and it was nice to be out with him rather than at the clubhouse or your home for once.
You went back in to the change room, got back in to your clothes and grabbed the bundle you had brought in to try on. Handing the bulk of the clothes to an attendant, you went to make the purchase of the red dress you had tried on and Hap had nodded at.
Happy walked up behind you as the cashier scanned the dress through, spying the skirt on the counter. He made to grab it, but you were quicker.
“You’re not buying that.”
As you turned to Happy, the cashier watched, mid-scan, waiting to see what was about to go down.
“I think I might be.”
“Don’t scan that.” Happy said, talking to the cashier but not moving his gaze from yours.
You puffed yourself up, Happy towering over you, but you wouldn’t cower. You never did.
“I dunno how you think you’re gonna win this one. I’m paying, therefore I’m the customer, and the customer is always right. So, go right ahead and scan that skirt, sweetheart.” You turned your words to the cashier, blindly handing the garment to her.
The cashier shrugged, scanning the skirt and ringing up the total.
Happy made for your card this time, but you jumped back, moving the card closer and closer to the machine, tapping it and putting it away, enjoying the agitated look on his face.
Whenever Happy got too caveman for you, you liked to push his buttons. You weren’t scared of Happy, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you, especially over something so trivial. But you weren’t about to let him walk all over you. For things about the club, you knew your place. But in your relationship, outside of the club, you weren’t just Hap’s Old Lady. You were his to love, not to be a possession.
As you took your bag, Happy stormed passed you, leaving the store. You smirked at the cashier and followed him, only to see him riding out of the parking space as you approached.
It was so ridiculous, you laughed. Not much phased you. You got a taxi and headed for home. Maybe you would wear the skirt instead of the dress to the party, just for kicks.
Arriving home, you saw no evidence of Happy being there. You assumed he had gone to the clubhouse to cool off and you could meet him there.
You lay out your dress and the accessories you’d be wearing and went to the kitchen to make a sandwich. You had a while to get ready, so you took your time.
As you were eating, the familiar rumble of Happy’s bike came down the road, and he parked in the driveway. He called out to you when he walked in to the house, finding you at the dining table.
“How did you get home?”
“I flew on my broomstick.” You replied, chewing on your sandwich. Looking up to him, you saw the look of worry on his face.
“I got a cab.”
Happy sat down at the table.
“I got halfway home before I turned around to come get you, but you weren’t there. I freaked out.”
You felt a bit bad. He rode off on you, and it was a dick move, but you could tell he knew that he was in the wrong, and he was sorry, even without having said it.
“It’s alright, I’m not mad. I figured that whatever mood you were in, you needed to go and sort it out without me taunting you. Sorry I provoked you.”
Putting your plate in the sink, you walked over and moved your hand over his shaved head, down the back of his neck and under his shirt, running this tips of your nails over the top of his back. You felt him shiver at your touch, and he closed his eyes, groaning.
“I’m sorry too. Just woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”
“We’re good. Now, I’m going to take a long hot shower, then while you take yours, I’ll get ready and we’ll go have fun at the party.” You took your hand away and walked towards the bedroom, stopping at the kitchen door.
“And if you’re a happy camper tonight, we’ll have some fun with that skirt when we’re back home.”
Happy huffed a laugh out, shaking his head at you.
“If you use up all the hot water again, I swear to god! You’re on the couch for a month!!” He jokingly warned you.
Your smug smirk made it’s way across your face.
“Sure, Killer.” You winked and disappeared down the hall.