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thezeekrecord · 3 years

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Secret Admirer

fandom: hlvrai characters: g-man, bubby, dr. coomer, tommy, darnold ships: g-man/bubby/dr. coomer, tommy/darnold (background) word count: 11,235 chapters: 1 other notes: i just love the dynamics that can come from g-man's whole Thing being closer to half life canon so i kept it so that g-man Technically caused the resonance cascade here!

Bubby and Dr. Coomer have lived together on the surface for a while after the resonance cascade when they begin to receive gifts from a secret admirer.

Bubby arrived back to his apartment with Harold that day to find a present, sitting perfectly in the center of their doormat.

With a short sigh, Bubby scooped it up in one hand and opened the door with the other. It wasn’t very big; based on the many finely wrapped presents left behind on their doormat before this one, he had no doubt in his mind what it was. The first one they got, Harold had torn into the wrapping paper, finding it was the kind where the lid and the rest of the box were wrapped separately, so one can just lift the lid without trouble—every single one they got since then was the same. It was a long and thin box, absolutely no trouble to carry inside and drop on the dining table.

“We got another one.” Bubby announced to Harold in the kitchen.

“Ooh!” Harold said eagerly, dropping everything he was doing in the kitchen to head to the table and open it up.

Inside was, as always, an intricate array of fancy chocolates; the types of chocolates was always different, even if the packaging was always the same. Bubby picked up the guide that had stuck to the lid and looked it over carefully as Harold simply picked one up and stuck it in his mouth, almost immediately making a displeased face.

“Did you get another dark chocolate caramel?” Bubby asked.

Harold nodded as he reluctantly chewed the chocolate in his mouth.

“That’s what the guide is for!” Bubby pointed out, holding it out to Harold.

“That takes away from the mystery, dear.” Harold replied once he’d finished his chocolate. He picked out another one, seeming much more pleased with the next one he got.

Bubby, minding the guide carefully, picked one out that seemed interesting and tried it. “One of these days, we’re going to find out the chocolate is poisoned or something.” He muttered.

“That would be a very needlessly long con!” Harold said, returning to the kitchen. “Besides, we’re both very difficult to poison.”

Bubby hummed thoughtfully as he sat down. “Well, regardless, whoever the fuck is doing this has been really dedicated.”

“They certainly have.” Harold agreed as he got back to the dishes. “I wonder if they’ll ever make themself known.”

“I’m getting sick of not knowing.” Bubby declared. “I’m gonna set up a camera outside our door.”

“Well, I can’t imagine whoever it is will want to leave any chocolates behind if they see a camera pointed at them.” Harold said, looking at Bubby as he scrubbed a pan.

“I know that. I’ll hide the camera, you dunce.” Bubby huffed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “I’ll get one of those doorbell cameras or something.”

“Bubby, we live in an apartment, we don’t have a doorbell.” Harold said. “Now you’re the dunce.”

Bubby scoffed and picked up another chocolate. “Either way, I’m going to figure it out.” He said between bites.

Harold finished washing the remaining dishes and dried his hands off before stepping around the table, kissing Bubby on the cheek. “Chocolate mysteries aside, how was your day?”

Bubby sighed. “I’m sick of teaching. I go from working on society’s greatest scientific advancements to a college professor—it’s so degrading.”

“It’s not that bad!” Harold said as he sat down beside Bubby, leaning his head into his palm. “In fact...as college professors, we do quite a bit of degrading ourselves.”

“No we don’t! I can’t say shit when I’m at work.” Bubby argued.

“No, Bubby—degrading?” Harold repeated, tapping Bubby’s work bag.

Bubby paused for a moment before letting out a deep, exasperated sigh and punching Harold’s shoulder. “You’re the fucking worst, Harold. I’m filing for divorce.”

Harold laughed loudly, punching Bubby back.

“You have an evening class tonight, right?” Bubby asked as Harold cackled.

Harold stopped cackling at that and let out a sigh. “I do.”

“I should go to the store, then.” Bubby muttered thoughtfully, considering what he’d cook for dinner.

Life went on relatively quietly after that, as it always was. Bubby was used to intense deadlines and high-pressure work; teaching felt like absolutely nothing to him but monotonous routines. It paid the bills, though, and at least the upside of it all was plenty of freedom and a life with Harold and all their friends. Even if he missed the research he used to do, he couldn’t possibly imagine going back to Black Mesa, even if somehow the company had managed to remain afloat after the resonance cascade.

As the next week rolled by, Bubby ordered a very small hidden camera he planned to mount high up above their door. Once it arrived, he utilized his floating power to put it up, angling it downward towards the doormat carefully. Once everything was in order, the day the chocolates were always left behind was already coming up—whoever it was, although they always came the same day, they tended to be careful not to be too predictable in the hour they’d leave the chocolates behind; so Bubby set it to record during the evening the day before and sat back, glancing constantly and not-too-subtly at the feed he set up to watch through his laptop.

“Honestly, Bubby, a watched pot never boils.” Harold said as he caught Bubby staring at the feed again, wrapping his arm around him and drawing him in close. “I don’t think they’ll be coming by anytime too soon. Just relax, you’ll get them eventually.”

Bubby sighed impatiently, getting comfortable against Harold and turning his gaze instead at the TV. “I feel like it has to be one of the neighbors.”

Harold nodded in agreement. “Surely, it would be. Or at least, someone who has the code to the front door—maybe a neighbor’s friend?”

“The more degrees removed we get from people we know, the weirder it gets.” Bubby pointed out. “At least if it’s a neighbor, we wouldn’t have to consider how they get in every single time.”

Harold snickered. “Oh, that’s true. I’ll bet it’s...Mr. Berkovich.”

“Who?”

“The guy who lives—oh, I think four doors down from us, across the hall?” Harold replied, running his fingers over his mustache thoughtfully.

“Oh, right. Well, I guess I wouldn’t complain too much if it was him.” Bubby admitted. “I was sort of thinking it would be that guy who lives downstairs. Remember? The one who helped us when we got the couch stuck in the doorway moving in.”

“Oh, yeah! He gave us that snowglobe, too, so I wouldn’t be shocked. I certainly couldn’t complain if it was him.” Harold smiled fondly. “What do we even do once we know, though? I wouldn’t want to push whoever it is into talking to us if they’re not ready.”

“It’s sort of what they get for leaving us chocolates every Tuesday for—what, three months?” Bubby argued, looking back at the feed. “If we go and tell them we know, they’ll just have to suck it up.”

“We could leave them chocolates.” Harold mused, physically turning Bubby’s head away from the laptop screen.

“Ugh, but then that could turn into a whole thing.” Bubby complained. “Imagine how much money they’ve spent at this point! I don’t want to get caught up in that.”

The two of them spent the evening going back and forth on who it could be, and what they’d do once they discovered who it was. All the while, Bubby caught no glimpse of anybody leaving a box behind; so the two went to bed, Harold sure to make Bubby leave the laptop behind in the living room so he wouldn’t be up all night checking.

It wasn’t often they’d wake up to a box—still, Bubby checked eagerly, finding nothing on the doormat. With a sigh, he resigned himself to heading off to work with the mystery still ongoing. He set his students up with group work for class that day, watching the feed carefully as they talked to one another. At the end of class, he had every group present the result of their discussions, he spent an agonizing amount of time correcting them, and finally, he let the class go for the day before heading to his office. That didn’t provide him much more time to pay close attention to the feed; lots of students approached him for his office hours that day, seeing as he had tests scheduled very soon.

One minute, he was looking at a student’s already graded assignment, when he had the gall to tell him that he marked a question wrong incorrectly. The next, when Bubby glanced back at the feed after explaining to him his response was very much wrong, there was a present there.

“There!” Bubby exclaimed, turning to his laptop. “Oh, fuck, I missed it.”

“Uhh...” The student muttered, looking down at the assignment handed back to him. “Wait, I’m still not sure I get it.”

Bubby sighed in exasperation, turning away from the laptop to take his student through the concept one more time. Once he was finally on his way, Bubby glanced at the time, assessed it was close enough to time to head home, and packed up his things. He hurried home and floated up to the camera, taking it down to pull out the SD card, pick up the chocolates, and burst into the apartment.

“I got it!” Bubby shouted into the apartment, startling Harold from his grading work.

“Oh!” Harold abandoned his work to sit down at the table with Bubby. Bubby tossed the chocolates aside, sticking the SD card into the slot on his laptop and pulling up the contents. “Let’s see. It was during my office hours, so...probably about 1:47...”

After a little while spent searching the recording, Bubby got to the approximate time the box would have to be set out. He and Harold stared carefully at the screen, waiting for movement. After a couple minutes, Bubby sped up the recording a little.

“I swear, it was around this time.” Bubby murmured to himself. Then, he blinked, and the box was suddenly in place. “Wait—huh?”

“Maybe you have it playing too fast. Go back.” Harold suggested.

Bubby rewound a little and slowed the recording back down. They both stared at the screen intently. Then, at 1:52, the box was just there. Bubby paused, going between one frame where the box wasn’t there, then the very next one, where the box was in place.

“What the fuck?” Bubby asked. “It’s not like there’s any time missing on the recording, this is all still at 1:52.”

Harold hummed thoughtfully. “So, the mystery continues, then.”

Bubby growled in frustration. “It doesn’t just continue. It gets worse! How the hell did they do that?”

After a few, contemplative moments, Bubby felt Harold’s hand squeezing his shoulder. Bubby turned to him, watching as Harold gave him a very intense look.

“Bubby!” Harold blurted out. “I know who it is!”

“What? Who?”

“Well, how would anyone do this?” Harold asked him. “If there’s nothing wrong with the recording, they would have to have some sort of power, right? Who do we know—other than Tommy, who we already know it isn’t—that has time powers?”

Bubby gave Harold an incredulous look. “What, you think it was Mr. Coolatta?”

“I can’t imagine who else it would be!” Harold replied, looking back at the box. “Who else would have the power to leave a box that way?”

“He doesn’t even talk to us.” Bubby pointed out.

“Exactly! If he talked to us, maybe he wouldn’t be so shy about leaving us gifts.” Harold mused with a smile. “I think that’s pretty cute, actually.”

“Or stalkerish.” Bubby muttered.

“Oh, Bubby, give him a break. I just think he struggles a little bit with human conventions.” Harold continued thoughtfully, clearly getting caught up in this possibility. “Besides, you can’t blame me for sort of hoping it would be him.”

“Can I really not?” Bubby asked him playfully. “I think I could judge you plenty for it.”

“If you do, I’ll be very sad and embarrassed.” Harold replied just as playfully, leaning against Bubby’s shoulder. “Don’t you think he’s cute?”

Bubby hummed thoughtfully. “I think he’s a weird, intimidating alien man. I wouldn’t describe that as cute.”

“Well, I was a little intimidated myself, at first.” Harold admitted. “But do you remember that time he went with us to that fair? We got on that one ride with him and Tommy, and—”

“The minute it started moving, he teleported off.” Bubby finished with a laugh. “That was pretty funny.”

“That whole night was the first time we saw him in a setting he didn’t seem to plan ahead of time.” Harold recalled. “I just thought it was cute, to see him out of his element a little bit. He’s not quite as intimidating as I thought!”

“...Alright, I guess I’ll give you that one.” Bubby relented. “Mostly because I’ll just have to take your word for it. I don’t remember a lot of that night.”

“I remember when you—”

“Oh, don’t say it.”

Harold grinned. “...When you threw up on the ferris wheel.”

Bubby let out a long groan as Harold giggled. “Listen, the way it jolts when people are getting on and off is dangerous when you’re already nauseous. I underestimated that drink I got, sure, but you can’t blame me for anything else after that.”

Harold laughed loudly, nuzzling into Bubby’s shoulder. “At least we didn’t go on the carousel.”

“So, what now, then?” Bubby asked, mostly to change the subject.

“Hmmmm.” Harold put his hand to his chin. “We ought to approach this carefully. I get the feeling he would be very easy to scare off.”

“We’re not hunting deer, Harold, I think he could handle it if we told him we know it’s him leaving us chocolate.”

“Well, if he’s too shy to just give us the chocolate in person, I don’t want to put him in an uncomfortable position.” Harold argued, kissing Bubby’s cheek before standing. “I suppose that’ll have to wait until later, though. I ought to get ready for my class.”

Bubby nodded, closing his laptop. “If I picked you up after, would you want to go out to eat tonight instead? I’m not really in the mood to cook.”

“That sounds wonderful!” Harold replied with a smile.

Bubby dropped Harold off at his class for the evening, then headed back home to change out of his work clothes and clean a little before he’d head back and take Harold out. As he vacuumed their living room floor, he imagined Mr. Coolatta always taking the time every week to leave them gifts, going to great pains to keep his identity hidden. He seemed like a particularly busy man, and yet he’d never missed a week in all these months. Bubby pulled out his phone after some thought, navigating to his text history with Tommy. BUBBY: HI TOMMY TOMMY: hi bubby TOMMY: how are you? BUBBY: FINE BUBBY: TOMMY I THINK YOUR DAD IS FLIRTING WITH US TOMMY: HUH??? BUBBY: YEAH I SET UP A CAMERA OUTSIDE OUR DOOR TO CATCH WHOEVER WAS LEAVING US THOSE CHOCOLATES AND WE COULDNT CATCH THEM. THE BOX JUST APPEARED AND THE TIMESTAPM DIDNT CHANGE BETWEEN FRAMES AT ALL SO WE THINK THE ONLY PERSON WHO COULD DO THAT IS SOMEONE WITH TIME POWERS. SO WE THINK ITS YOUR DAD. TOMMY: oh my god TOMMY: okay BUBBY: WELL HAS HE SAID ANYTHING TO YOU? TOMMY: i mean he doesnt talk about himself that much bubby i dont know BUBBY: OH OKAY TOMMY: do you like him then? BUBBY: WELL HAROLD DOES BUBBY: I DONT KNOW YET BUBBY: I GUESS WED HAVE TO TALK TO HIM FIRST BUT I HAVENT ACTAULLY SEEN HIM IN MONTHS BUBBY: COULD WE HAVE HIS PHONE NUMBER? TOMMY: oh yeah sure just a sec

Bubby waited a few moments, receiving Mr. Coolatta’s phone number shortly after. BUBBY: THANKS TOMMY BUBBY: I HAVE TO GO NOW I HAVE TO GET HAROLD AND HEAD TO PF CHANGS TOMMY: ok TOMMY: good luck with TOMMY: everything i guess lol BUBBY: THANKS BYE

Bubby stuffed his phone in his pocket and headed back to the school, picking up Harold and driving towards the restaurant. Bubby drummed his fingers thoughtfully on the wheel at a red light while Harold fiddled with the radio.

“What if he was only leaving the chocolates for just one of us?” Bubby asked impulsively.

Harold glanced up at Bubby before turning his eyes back to the radio. “Well, I suspect he’d leave a note if he just intended it to be for one of us. Like, to: Harold or to: Bubby.”

“Hmm.” Bubby stared at the road as traffic began moving again, chewing on his lip for a few seconds.

“...I didn’t quite ask you how you felt about it being Mr. Coolatta, did I?” Harold asked suddenly.

Bubby glanced at him with a teasing smile. “Yeah, you just started gushing about him.”

Harold snickered at that. “Well, I’m asking you now, then.”

“...Honestly? I don’t know.” Bubby replied, tightening his grip on the wheel a little. “I know I wouldn’t have an issue if you started dating him. That’s just up to you and him, I guess. I’m just not sure how I feel about him. I barely even know him.”

Harold nodded, finally settling on a station and leaning back. “Yes, I have to admit, although I do think he’s cute, I obviously still need to get to know him a little more. Whether that’s through dates or just friendly meetings, whatever we want to call it.”

“Yeah—I mean, he shows up just a handful of times in our lives to be cryptic, and now this. It’s very sudden.” Bubby commented. “Like, talk to us a few times first before you start mysteriously leaving a box of chocolates on our doorstep every week for three months.”

Harold laughed. “Well, Bubby, I seem to recall you struggling a little yourself, when it came to romance back in the day.”

“Oh, give me a break, that was in—what, my 30’s? 40’s?” Bubby huffed in embarrassment. “I’m sure he can figure it out.”

“I’m sure he will.” Harold replied with a fond smile.

Bubby and Harold arrived at the restaurant not too much longer later. They talked a little more about the implications of a potential third in their relationship—particularly if it was Mr. Coolatta. It felt good to Bubby, getting everything out on the table, but they barely knew much of anything about Mr. Coolatta, so there wasn’t too much they could actually address without speaking to him as well for once.

The restaurant was connected to a mall as well, so once they finished eating, they ended up wandering around for a little while just to enjoy being somewhere other than home, work, or the store for the first time in a little bit. Bubby was starting to lose his energy after about a half hour, though, about to ask Harold to go home when Harold suddenly gripped his upper arm and pointed enthusiastically towards the candy shop.

“Bubby! Bubby!! There he is!” He exclaimed in what was nearly a whisper—he didn’t quite have the ability to be quiet when he was excited, Bubby recalled. Bubby followed his gaze, and just as he said, he found Mr. Coolatta purchasing something at the cashier desk.

“Oh! Oh my god.” Bubby whispered back. “...Should we...talk to him?”

Harold was immediately moving before even replying to Bubby, holding his hand firmly to drag him along with him. Bubby’s heart raced as Harold navigated through the thick crowd towards the shop.

“Mr. Coolatta!” Harold called. “Mr. Coolatta, it’s us! Harold and Bubby!”

Mr. Coolatta perked up at his voice, getting a distinct look of panic on his face. He glanced around at the crowd, grimaced, and scooped up his purchase from the desk, immediately turning to head further into the store.

“I think he’s running away from us.” Bubby pointed out as Harold continued on regardless.

“Well, he’s not teleporting or stopping time, so I think we can catch up.” Harold replied obliviously.

Harold pulled Bubby around to the back corner of the store, and they found Mr. Coolatta there, holding the plastic bag containing his purchase close to his chest and staring at them like they’d just broken into his home. Bubby stood beside Harold, entirely uncertain what to do now as Harold spoke up.

“Mr. Coolatta! It’s been ages since we’ve last seen you.” He greeted with a wide smile. “How are you doing?”

“I am doing...j-just fine.” Mr. Coolatta replied. “Uh—I believe, I, um...must be going now, I have—some very important...business to attend to.”

“We can walk with you back to your car! Or wherever you’re headed.” Harold offered as Mr. Coolatta began walking, following close behind.

“I...suppose...I couldn’t stop you.” Mr. Coolatta said falteringly.

“So...a candy shop.” Harold commented, clearly as though he thought he was being subtle. “Shopping for a special occasion, or just a craving?”

Mr. Coolatta made a slightly strangled noise in his throat, giving him away in an instant. “I—w-well...it’s a...gift.”

A snicker forced its way out of Bubby. Harold nudged him with his elbow, as if he wasn’t putting Mr. Coolatta on the spot himself.

“A gift, you say?” Harold asked knowingly.

Mr. Coolatta paused for a few moments before just nodding. “Yes. A...gift.”

Harold seemed to be growing slightly impatient. Bubby recalled when they met years before, he was very quick to admit his crush—he didn’t seem to like the whole dance around it of just flirting without making his feelings known. Bubby braced himself for Harold to give up on being subtle, and sure enough, he squeezed Bubby’s hand and spoke again.

“Oh—I can’t take this, I’m not good at keeping secrets.” Harold blurted out. “We’re fairly certain you’re the one who’s been leaving boxes of chocolates outside our apartment, Mr. Coolatta.”

Mr. Coolatta froze midstep, looking down at Harold with wide eyes. He sputtered for a few seconds before he got an even halfway coherent sentence out. “You—but...I was...so careful.”

“Too careful.” Bubby said. “I set up a camera. Nobody else but Tommy, that we know of, has time powers.”

Mr. Coolatta let out a flustered sigh, clutching the bag closer to his chest. “...Ah.”

“If you’re not too busy at the moment, why don’t we have coffee?” Harold offered kindly. “We rarely see you! I’d very much like the chance to really talk to you.”

Mr. Coolatta made a very quiet, anxious noise. “O-...okay, then. I, uh...wasn’t actually as, terribly busy, as I led you to believe before. I...apologize for the lie.”

Bubby couldn’t help but snicker again.

Harold led the way to the nearby coffee shop, and the three of them sat down with their drinks, Mr. Coolatta staring firmly at the floor or table any time he didn’t particularly need to be looking at anything else. He drummed his fingers on the lid of his coffee cup, not taking a sip just yet, as Harold pulled the lid off his own to let it cool off first. Bubby just sipped his impatiently, grimacing as he burned his lips and tongue on it.

“So, Mr. Coolatta.” Harold began, leaning his head into his palm and looking at him with a smile. “We don’t actually quite know what you do. We’ve only seen you a few times, and you’ve always been so cryptic about it.”

Mr. Coolatta hummed quietly as he continued drumming his fingers on his coffee lid. “Well...I...am a—politician, essentially.” He replied, not at all confidently. “I used to do more—complex work. The...resonance cascade, didn’t have exactly the result as we anticipated. I had already quite established myself here, though, on Earth. Once I realized the resonance cascade—didn’t actually have the...consequences, I had worked for, I eventually decided to...take that as a blessing, and resign, from my higher position. Leaving me purely as a politician.”

Harold nodded while Bubby paused to consider this.

“You caused that?” He demanded. “What the hell did you expect to happen?”

Mr. Coolatta got a guilty look in his eyes as he sighed. “Well...I can tell you for certain, that—I truly thought my, motivations, were good. There is a very interesting, thought experiment, that describes the dilemma I faced when causing the resonance cascade. The...trolley problem.”

Bubby groaned loudly. “Okay—whatever, I don’t wanna hear it if you’re gonna compare it to the goddamn trolley problem.” He said impatiently. “I’m sick of the trolley problem. I don’t like thought experiments—what’s the point of a question that doesn’t have an answer? Let’s move on.”

Harold laughed lovingly as he nudged Bubby. “Sorry, he’s not much of a philosopher.” He told Mr. Coolatta.

The guilty look dissipated as Mr. Coolatta let out a small, reserved chuckle. “I will certainly, try to remember that.”

Bubby looked at him closely as he smiled. Maybe Harold had been right—watching him in a setting with true, genuine responses, rather than whatever he seemed to have already planned was...nice. He always had a very particular, mysterious air about him while he was acting out something pre-planned, while he seemed much more reserved now. Like he was a very shy man always cast as a very confident character in a play.

“Why did you leave us chocolates for so long in secret?” Bubby asked bluntly. “You could have just talked to us.”

Mr. Coolatta picked up his drink, seeming to attempt to avoid answering by taking a long sip of his coffee. Finally, once he set the cup back down, he sat up a little taller and straightened his tie.

“Adjusting to...life, like this, has been fairly complicated.” He admitted carefully. “I am not quite so adept at living, let’s say...a human’s life. Almost everything I have ever done has been to make a, small nudge, and watch for the effects. I am not...very...direct. I suppose I only intended to give you chocolates anonymously...once, but...found myself unable to—do anything else, that would make my identity known. All I wanted...was to make you two happy.”

“Aww! That’s very cute.” Harold gushed.

Mr. Coolatta’s face flushed at that. Bubby found himself laughing quietly again—not unkindly, just knowing that sort of effect Harold had on himself way back in their Black Mesa days—and still to this day, if Bubby was honest with himself. Just a few well-placed, whole-hearted words like that could leave Bubby weak in the knees, no matter how simple. It was just in the way he said it, Bubby thought, that made it feel particularly special.

Plus, Bubby couldn’t help but note to himself how much he enjoyed seeing Mr. Coolatta so caught off-guard and flustered like that.

“I have enjoyed the chocolate.” Bubby said truthfully. “I would just like the opportunity to talk to you more, rather than being left to wonder what the hell is going on. I didn’t like the aspect of not knowing.”

Mr. Coolatta nodded, brushing out his jacket, seemingly just to give his hands something to do. “Right. I’m...sorry, for the mystery. I truly intended to initiate conversation at some point. I just...wasn’t sure how, after a point. It all began to feel...rather silly, admittedly.”

“It was.” Bubby told him curtly. “But...I liked finding out it was you.”

Mr. Coolatta took another very long sip of his coffee, doing little to conceal the blush on his face. Bubby decided to let him interpret that however he chose, rather than admitting after the fact he just sort of liked the mystery-solving aspect of it. Once he’d drank as much as he could stand, he set his coffee back down again, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“W-well...that is...very nice to hear, from you two.” He said very formally. “Now that, I suppose...my feelings are known—perhaps I could make you two dinner, sometime.”

“I would love that!” Harold replied eagerly, looking to Bubby for confirmation.

Bubby nodded. “That sounds good to me.” He answered carefully.

“Ah—wonderful.” He said with a fuller, genuine smile as he quickly stood, straightening out his suit. ��I really must be going now, actually. But...I will contact you two—later, to discuss the details.”

Bubby suddenly felt like they were making an appointment with him as they each stood as well.

“Oh, well—alright, then.” Harold replied, clearly feeling the same way. “It was very nice talking to you tonight! I’m sorry if I put you on the spot.”

Mr. Coolatta shook his head. “Oh, no, I—understand, wanting answers for...my behavior.”

Mr. Coolatta paused, looking as though he didn’t know what to do with himself before he picked up his coffee, gave them a friendly nod, and walked away briskly—fast enough to almost be running. Harold turned to Bubby with a baffled smile.

“He didn’t even give us his phone number or anything.” He commented.

“Oh, I have it.” Bubby said, pulling out his phone. “Tommy gave it to me.”

Harold took Bubby’s free hand, bumping his shoulder a little with his own. “Ah, so you spoke to Tommy about this, then?”

“Only for a minute.” Bubby replied, pulling his hand away and holding it out. “Give me your phone, I’ll put his number in.”

Harold did as Bubby asked. Once he was done, he handed the phone back and took Harold’s hand again.

“He seemed very surprised about it.” Bubby said as they started to head towards the mall exit closest to their car.

Harold hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose I can’t blame him. It must be a strange situation to be in—an alien father he didn’t realize he still had appears back into his life after all that time, then starts flirting with his elder friends.”

Bubby waved his free hand dismissively. “Eh, he’ll figure it out.”

Harold took the wheel this time as they arrived back at their car, Bubby settling comfortably in the passenger seat and finding a CD to play.

“So, what’s your impression of him now?” Harold asked him.

“Hmmm.” Bubby flipped through their CDs thoughtfully. “I think you were right about seeing him ‘out of his element’. I’m interested to talk to him more. You?”

“I thought it was all very cute.” Harold answered with a smile as he drove them out of the parking lot. “Don’t you think so?”

A slight heat settled on Bubby’s cheeks as he nodded. “...Yeah. I guess I can’t blame him for not knowing what he should do. I feel a little better about it all now, knowing I can just talk to him, finally.”

“I agree! It was very nice, until he...well, ran off.”

As both of them laughed, Bubby felt...warm. Excited. It was nice—he was flattered for sure; although he wasn’t quite yet sure how much he truly saw Mr. Coolatta as a romantic prospect, he could at least concede with Harold now that he found him cute. Harold may have struggled with the initial dancing around a relationship—he seemed to enjoy feeling rooted down and secure—Bubby didn’t mind this aspect of things so much.

“You look happy.” Harold commented teasingly. “Is someone excited for our date?”

Bubby scoffed. “You can’t make fun of me, you were the one gushing about him before we even got here.”

“I can make fun of you!” Harold insisted with a wide smile. “We’ve been together long enough, I get to tease you about your crushes.”

“It’s hardly a crush.” Bubby said defensively.

“Are you suuure?” Harold pressed.

“Listen, Harold, we just talked one-on-one—or, uhh, two-on-one—for the first time not even ten minutes ago, you have to give me some space to figure out how I feel about him.” Bubby huffed, crossing his arms. “Besides, you’re hardly giving me a minute to make fun of you for your crush.”

“Oh, alright. Go ahead.”

“Whatever happened to ‘approaching this carefully’?” Bubby questioned with a smile. “You said that this morning, but as soon as we saw him, you immediately launched after him and told him everything.”

“I couldn’t help myself!” Harold defended with a laugh. “He was just right there! I didn’t know if we were going to have another chance.”

“Alright, that’s fair.” Bubby relented, putting his hands up in defeat. “But you were absolutely flirting with him back there.”

Harold snickered, sparing Bubby a quick glance before turning back to the road. “Oh, I couldn’t help myself with that, either. You and him both have adorable reactions.”

Despite the years of hearing the same sentiment from him, Bubby’s face still flushed. “It was pretty cute, coming from him.” He murmured. “Even if I don’t end up actually dating him myself, I can at least say you have good taste.”

“I know I do!”

****

G-Man was getting used to routine. When a man lives for centuries, it gets difficult to see weeks as anything but a brief “blip” in time—but G-Man was making an effort, setting up reminders for himself, keeping a calendar, and actually wearing a wristwatch. It was a wonder how quickly 37 years of his son’s life had passed by; now that G-Man was a regular Earth man—or at least, he was trying to be—he wasn’t going to miss any more of it.

At least Tommy was willing to see G-Man put in the effort to be there for him now. They talked, G-Man listened to Tommy’s grievances about his life spent without any parental figure, and G-Man found ways to apologize. Things were smoothing over, he thought; routine helped, at least. Putting aside the time each week to have lunch together seemed to be doing their father-son relationship a lot of good, and G-Man would supplement the rest of the week by stopping by his and Darnold’s apartment in the evenings sometimes, when he wasn’t busy.

It was one of those evenings when G-Man received a message on his phone. He’d ignored it at first, as Tommy was lengthily explaining the plot to an episode of Invitation to Love, and G-Man assumed it must be one of his coworkers. Eventually, though, Tommy finished explaining the plot in a hurry so he could stand and head back into the kitchen to help Darnold with dinner, insisting G-Man’s help wasn’t needed for now. G-Man finally pulled out his phone and flipped it open, finding new messages from an unknown phone number. UNKNOWN: HI MR COOLATTA ITS BUBBY UNKNOWN: I GOT YOUR PHONE NUMBER FROM TOMMY

G-Man’s hearts began to race as he stared down at the messages. Of course, it made sense that Bubby could reach out to Tommy, when G-Man had simply run off without giving them any means of contacting him. He let out a quiet groan, pinching the bridge of his nose in embarrassment. G-Man was never good with romance. He tried, but he was still struggling quite a bit with human norms. He did just fine at work and in any other manner of professional capacities; but there was nothing that made him feel more alien than trying to open himself up emotionally, the way he truly wanted to with Dr. Coomer and Bubby.

“What’s up?” Darnold called from the kitchen.

G-Man glanced up at Tommy and Darnold watching him closely. He sighed a bit, moving on impulse to straighten his tie, then remembering he’d already removed it. He instead fidgeted with his phone.

“Oh, it’s...nothing.” G-Man replied.

“Work related?” Tommy asked as he left the kitchen, setting out some plates on the dining table.

G-Man stood from the couch, still holding his phone out and settling down at the table. He considered lying to save his own dignity, but he decided against it—Tommy and Darnold were dating, plus they knew Dr. Coomer and Bubby better than G-Man did. Surely, they could offer him advice, he mused.

“No, no, not...work related.” G-Man muttered. “It’s...Bubby, actually.”

Tommy’s eyes widened as he sank down in his chair. “Oh! Well...what did he say?” He asked, fiddling with his fork as Darnold stepped out of the kitchen with their dinner.

“He’s only saying hello.” G-Man told him, looking back down at his phone. “But—well, we...bumped into each other, at the, mall—the other day. I asked him and Dr. Coomer to dinner, but...I’m sure I left them quite confused, considering I never gave them a means of contacting me, or a day or time to come visit.”

Darnold snickered as he sat down at the table as well. “Yeah, I bet that’d be a little confusing.” He commented with an amused smile.

“So, just...say hi back?” Tommy suggested. “You could—um, you could work out the details now.”

“But...well...” G-Man tapped the corner of his phone mindlessly against the table as he thought his words over. “I was sort of hoping, that—I could offer them a little, more...excitement, than just...arranging the details over text message.”

“Oh—so, like, you asked them on a date?” Darnold asked.

G-Man nodded. “Precisely.”

“Aww! That’s sweet.” Darnold commented with a smile.

Tommy gave him a smile as well, but it looked much more conflicted than G-Man had expected out of him. He didn’t say anything, though; so G-Man settled to give him a while to voice any sort of concern, maybe bring it up later when they could have a more private moment to talk.

“I mean...if you already—like, I think it’s too late to be cool and mysterious.” Tommy pointed out. “No offense, but...I don’t think you’re, like, as good at that as you thought you were going to be.”

Harsh criticism, but G-Man nodded in understanding with a sigh. “Perhaps not.” He murmured.

“You don’t have to be, either.” Darnold added. “I think, like, Bubby at least hates being left in the dark more than he enjoys mystery. And even if Dr. Coomer seems like...y’know, that sort of guy who likes those types of romantic gestures, you’re kind of at a critical moment right now.”

G-Man stared at Darnold in surprise. “...Am I?”

“Well—I don’t wanna put pressure on you or anything.” Darnold said with a laugh. “I only mean, like, it’s important you just...take it easy and be yourself right now. I know it’s nerve-wracking and all. I got worried with Tommy on our first date.”

Tommy snickered at the memory, finding Darnold’s hand and holding it in his own. G-Man smiled at the two.

“Yeah. I don’t think, like...I mean, you don’t know each other very well, yet.” Tommy continued, resting his head in his free hand. “I think right now, it’s more important to just—be open, than to give them something exciting.”

G-Man nodded again, looking to his phone. “...Alright. Thank you two—very much. I will...simply...talk to him, then.”

“Yeah!” Darnold cheered him on. MR COOLATTA: Oh, good evening, Bubby. I’m sorry, I should have given it to you myself. It slipped my mind when we last spoke. BUBBY: THATS OK BUBBY: I GAVE IT TO HAROLD TOO IF THATS OK MR COOLATTA: That’s perfectly fine. Thank you Bubby. BUBBY: I WOULDNT TRY TEXTING HIM THOGUH HE HAS A HARD TIME WITH THAT MR COOLATTA: Oh, I will keep that in mind then. MR COOLATTA: Of course, I don’t actually have his phone number, myself. Would you mind sending it to me? BUBBY: OH RIGHT OK

A few moments later, as Tommy and Darnold got right to eating their dinner, G-Man received Dr. Coomer’s phone number. He spent a few moments saving him as a contact. MR COOLATTA: Thank you very much, Bubby.

“Um.” G-Man poked at his phone, squinting at the small letters on the screen. “How do I...start a group text?”

Tommy snorted, wordlessly reaching his hand out. G-Man handed his phone over, and in a matter of seconds, Tommy was handing it back, a new page set up ready for him to send a group text to Bubby and Dr. Coomer. MR COOLATTA: Hello, both of you. I’m sorry I left prematurely when we met at the mall. I should have arranged the details of our dinner beforehand. I thought I’d ask you two now when works best for you, if that’s alright. DR COOMER: Hhhffm BUBBY: MR COOLATTA I TOLD YOU HE DOESNT TEXT VERY WELL MR COOLATTA: I figured it just seemed polite to invite him in the group message, if the subject concerned you both. BUBBY: OH OK BUBBY: WERE BOTH FREE ON WEEKENDS WE JUST DONT WANT THE WHOLE DAY TAKEN UP SINCE WE STILL HAVE GRADING AND CLASS PLANNING STUFF TO DO BUBBY: EITHER SATURDAY OR SUNDAY WORKS BUT PROBABLY SATURDAY WOULD BE IDEAL SINCE WE WONT HAVE MORNING CLASSES TO GET TO THE DAY AFTER BUBBY: IS SATURDAY GOOD MR COOLATTA: Saturday sounds perfect to me. Would you two like to come to my house at around 6:00PM? I live on the East side of town, very close to that park that hosts the water fountain shows on Friday evenings. BUBBY: WHAT WHY ARE YOU RICH MR COOLATTA: Oh, my financial situation is complicated. I bought the house before I left my higher employment after the resonance cascade. DR COOMER: Bbbbcd M BUBBY: YEAH WHATEVER BUBBY: WELL ANYWAYS YEAH THAT WORKS 6PM SO I CAN STEAL YOUR VALUABLES THANK YOU MR COOLATTA: That sounds just fine. I look forward to seeing you two. MR COOLATTA: Oh, do either of you have food restrictions? DR COOMER: Eeg BUBBY: HE HAS A MINOR EGG ALLERGY BUBBY: NOT SO SEVERE THAT ITS NOTICEABLE IF THERES ONLY A LITTLE BIT OF EGG BUT DONT GIVE HIM AN OMELETTE OR ANYTHING MR COOLATTA: Alright, then, I will be careful. I’ll see you both on Saturday. BUBBY: OK DR COOMER: :)

G-Man set his phone aside, finding Darnold and Tommy were already mostly finished eating. G-Man quickly picked up his fork and began eating himself.

“So? How’d planning go?” Darnold asked curiously.

“It went very well.” G-Man replied. “They are going to, visit, my house for dinner on Saturday.”

“Cool.” Tommy replied, giving G-Man that sort of half-conflicted smile again. “I hope, umm—I hope it goes well.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it will.” Darnold added encouragingly. “I kinda get the impression you’ll get along really well with them.”

“I certainly hope so.” G-Man sighed. “To be honest, although I’m—fairly certain, Dr. Coomer seems...interested, I find myself nervous at the idea of messing up with—well, each of them, of course. However...I’m not certain, yet, how Bubby feels. I am very enamored by him, and yet...slightly...intimidated.”

Tommy and Darnold both chuckled, exchanging a brief look with each other.

“Yeah, I get that.” Tommy said. “He’s not that bad, though. He’s like—he can be kind of abrasive, but he’s just as capable of being really nice.”

“Yeah, honestly, Bubby can make sort of...snap judgments sometimes, but at the same time, if you’re open with him, he has a tendency to reciprocate.” Darnold told him thoughtfully. “Just don’t worry about it so much! They’re both really sweet, once they settle down.”

Tommy snickered. “Yeah. You gotta give them a minute, sometimes.”

Darnold and Tommy both laughed. G-Man couldn’t help but smile at a few memories of the two of them together, the way they were so loud and rambunctious, always having so much fun with one another and their friends. They didn’t need to settle down for him; life was unpredictable around them— that was what he loved.

Eventually, after they finished dinner, Darnold headed off to shower, giving G-Man privacy with his son. He stood with Tommy in the kitchen, helping him clean up the kitchen as Tommy played some of his music. It wouldn’t be G-Man’s favorite genre by any means, if he’d heard it from anywhere else; but Tommy liked it, so G-Man couldn’t help but enjoy it himself.

“So, Tommy...” G-Man said, looking up at him as he was currently occupied scrubbing one of the pans. “If you’d, rather not...discuss this, I certainly don’t blame you, and we can drop it. However...I can’t help but note...you seem, a little conflicted about my feelings towards Dr. Coomer and Bubby.”

Tommy paused, looking at G-Man in surprise. He hummed thoughtfully, turning his gaze back to the pan as he scrubbed it. “I-I guess so. I mean—it’s not really my place, so...”

“Well, I want to hear...how you feel, Tommy.” G-Man said gently. “Is there...something bothering you?”

Tommy laughed, suddenly, seemingly to himself. “It’s—it’s just...I don’t know. I feel like I’m suddenly living, like—um, all the kid’s movie cliches all of a sudden, so close to my 40’s.” Tommy began, still scrubbing vigorously at the pan. “I-I don’t think I’m actually concerned about anything. It’s just...an adjustment to the group, is all. Dr. Coomer and Bubby have been my friends for a really long time already, before I even knew you were still around. And now you’re here in my life, and you’re gonna date the—uh, my friends that I’ve already known for a while.”

“Ah. I see.” G-Man replied, returning to his task of loading the dishwasher. “That...makes sense.”

“It’s like...it’s fine, though.” Tommy said, glancing up at G-Man before returning to his work. “I wouldn’t ask anything to change. I think they’d be good for you.”

G-Man smiled at Tommy. “Thank you, Tommy. I’m...glad to hear you, think that.”

Tommy spared G-Man a smile before rinsing the pan off in the sink. “Did you already have dinner plans? Dr. Coomer and Bubby—um, they both really like spicy food. I could give you a recipe for a really good chili I made them once. They stole my leftovers from my fridge when I made it.”

Tommy and G-Man both chuckled, G-Man nodding eagerly.

“Yes, that would...be fantastic, Tommy.” G-Man said earnestly. “I am not very great at, cooking by taste, to be honest. I am...still learning.”

Tommy shook off his hands in the sink and dried them off. “What did you do all that time before, then, if you—like, if you never learned how to cook? Before I was born.”

G-Man’s face flushed a little in embarrassment. “Well...I had more money than I knew what to do with, due to my ex-employers’ intervention, and very little time...to myself. I always—ordered food.”

Tommy snickered. “Actually...I get that. It was like that for me when I worked at Black Mesa. I’d always just go to the food court.”

Tommy and G-Man both laughed to themselves as Tommy threw away the paper towel he’d been using to dry his hands. “Just a sec, then. I’ll e-mail you the recipe.”

As Tommy hurried off to do that, G-Man returned to his task with a content smile.

****

“Oh! There’s the park, to the left.” Harold pointed out, referencing the directions he’d printed off from his computer. “So...the intersection after that, turn right.”

“Are you sure? ” Bubby asked. “Positive? Completely certain it’s the intersection after that, and not the next one?”

“Yes, I’m—oh, wait. No, no, you’re right. Keep going.”

Mr. Coolatta had, of course, forgotten to give them the address to his house at first. Earlier that morning, though, Bubby had texted him asking him for it. Not that the directions did them much good; Bubby and Harold had a tendency to get lost. They were running a couple minutes late, now, but very close. Soon, they were in what looked like the right neighborhood. The area itself was wealthier than the apartment Dr. Coomer and Bubby rented, but the houses themselves were a little more modest than Bubby had been expecting—the short, single-story kind with a tiny little yard. Still, it was a step up from Dr. Coomer and Bubby’s apartment, so Bubby thought he could still get away with comments about his wealth.

Bubby wasn’t sure what sort of impression he wanted to make tonight; but, he was meeting with a man who’d expressed romantic interest in him and his husband, so he decided to try and dress nice. Then, he’d decided to cover himself up in a thick coat on his way out the door, which he was sort of intending to keep on inside now that he was embarrassed about trying to look nice for him.

In short, he was still sorting out his feelings.

The thick coat was necessary as they stepped outside the car; Bubby shivered at the freezing breeze as Harold circled around the car to take Bubby’s hand.

“Nervous?” Harold asked.

“No.” Bubby said automatically before pausing, reconsidering it, and sighing. “Okay—I’m just...I’ve never been in a situation like this before. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“All you need to do is have fun and be yourself!” Harold said with a smile, straightening out Bubby’s coat for him.

“Okay, yeah, whatever.” Bubby grumbled. “Are you nervous?”

Harold’s disposition didn’t change in the slightest. “Oh, I’m so nervous, I couldn’t even begin to tell you.”

Bubby and Harold both laughed their nerves out, squeezing each other’s hands tightly. Bubby felt a little more relaxed after that, at least, knowing he wasn’t alone. They stepped up to Mr. Coolatta’s front door, Bubby ringing the doorbell, and Harold knocking for good measure.

Mr. Coolatta didn’t take long to answer. He was wearing his same suit, as always; his posture was back to that same, stiff way he always maintained as he looked down at Harold and Bubby with a small, pleasant smile.

“Good evening, you two.” He greeted politely.

“Hello, Mr. Coolatta!” Harold held out his free hand to Mr. Coolatta, clearly intending to shake his hand.

Mr. Coolatta took his hand gingerly in his own, but he turned it, dipped down, and kissed his knuckles. Harold’s tense, nervous smile turned to a pleasantly surprised one instantly.

It was a massive shift from what Bubby had seen from Mr. Coolatta when they met at the mall. Made sense—he was back to something familiar and pre-planned, in his own territory. Bubby could sympathize with that. Bubby also quite liked seeing the effect he had on Harold like this, he thought as Mr. Coolatta released Harold’s hand and turned his attention to Bubby. Bubby didn’t offer his hand; he uncertainly shoved it in his pocket instead, and gave Mr. Coolatta what he hoped would look like a friendly nod.

“It’s good to see you.” Bubby told him.

“Yes, you...as well.” Mr. Coolatta replied with a similar smile he’d given Harold.

Mr. Coolatta let the two of them inside, closing the door behind them and offering his hand. “I can...take your coats, if you’d like.” He said.

Harold shrugged off his coat, handing it over to Mr. Coolatta comfortably. Harold just went for a simple long-sleeved button-up—not too fancy, but nicer than his typical casual wear. Bubby fiddled with his zipper for a contemplative moment before unzipping his coat and handing it off. Bubby’s outfit wasn’t as nice as Mr. Coolatta’s trademark suit, either, but it still quite embarrassed him he’d picked out one of his nicer dresses for this. Mr. Coolatta smiled at the both of them before taking their coats to a closet nearby, hanging them up neatly and shutting the door.

“You two both—look very nice.” Mr. Coolatta complimented as he turned back to them.

“Thanks.” Bubby replied quietly.

“Thank you!” Harold said with a massive grin. “You look very nice yourself, Mr. Coolatta. As always.”

Mr. Coolatta’s face flushed as he cleared his throat and invited them further into the house. Bubby finally had a moment to pause and consider the smell coming in from the kitchen as they walked towards it. He nudged Harold harshly, leaning in to whisper in his ear when Mr. Coolatta was preoccupied “fixing” the centerpiece of the table—a nice potted plant that, upon further inspection, appeared to be fake, and also uncomfortably large for the table.

“Holy shit, I think that’s the chili.” Bubby whispered eagerly.

“I know!” Harold whispered back excitedly. “I’d know that smell anywhere.”

“You two go ahead and make yourselves, comfortable.” Mr. Coolatta said, pulling out two chairs for them, side by side. “I’ll be just a moment.”

Bubby and Harold sat down at the dining table as they watched Mr. Coolatta step back into the kitchen, standing over a pot. He seemed to be double checking it tasted right, looking between the pot itself and what seemed to be the recipe he’d set out neatly on the counter. Bubby took the opportunity to take in this part of the house. It was sort of modest; just spacious enough to not feel cramped, but not too excessive. He could only see a small part of the living room from where he sat, across from the beginning of a hallway that must have led to the rest of the house. Along the walls he could see, though, there were framed photos—some looked like stock photos he’d printed off Google, while others featured Tommy and Sunkist, a mix of candids and professionally done portraits.

Mr. Coolatta returned shortly with two bowls to set out in front of Harold and Bubby. Harold immediately tried to enjoy his, burning his tongue on it with a muffled, surprised noise as Mr. Coolatta turned away to retrieve his own bowl. Once Mr. Coolatta sat down at the table himself, across from Harold and Bubby, he seemed to finally realize the issue with the plant in the center—again, too big to be appropriate for a dining table, obscuring his face from Harold and Bubby. He shamefully picked it up and moved it to the counter before sitting back down.

Once the chili was appropriately cooled, Bubby hardly wanted to spare a moment to make polite conversation—Harold seemed to be on the same page. They talked a little bit about their week between bites, but ultimately, not much got said until Harold and Bubby were already done eating. Mr. Coolatta seemed pleased with himself, at least.

“Why don’t we...get more comfortable?” Mr. Coolatta suggested, nodding them towards the living room.

Harold and Bubby followed him out of the kitchen, finding a couple of nice-looking couches, a shockingly tiny television, and something massive against the back wall: a huge fish tank, spanning most of the length of the living room. Bubby stared at it, both him and Harold immediately approaching it to take a closer look at it.

“I didn’t take you for an aquarium man!” Harold commented, bending over a little to look inside.

Bubby watched fish swim around leisurely inside, between all sorts of plant life and rock structures. He didn’t have any kind of gimmicky fish houses—he seemed to dedicate a lot of time to making it look natural, aside from one singular Minions-themed house off to the side.

“Oh, yes. Tommy suggested I find some—hobby, to keep me busy, while I’m not working.” Mr. Coolatta replied, leaning in close to the tank with them. “I found quite an interest in, aquariums.”

“How much did all this even cost?” Bubby asked in amazement.

Mr. Coolatta didn’t reply to that, only clearing his throat awkwardly. “The great thing I find about—aquariums, as opposed to...any other sort of housepet, is the necessity of creating what essentially becomes almost an entire, ecosystem, within their enclosure.”

“Well, you’re not letting them eat each other, are you?” Harold asked.

“Oh, no. Of course not.” Mr. Coolatta waved his hand dismissively, then indicated broadly to some of the coral inside. “I’m talking more, about...the symbiotic relationships, you see between the fish...the plants...the coral, each other—it’s all carefully cultivated. I’m always—tweaking things, for purposes both aesthetic and practical. Through my intervention, through—feeding them, cleaning the tank, everything—that I do...I am an integral part, of that ecosystem. It is, a symbiotic relationship in itself, how I provide them tank management, food, shelters, medicine...everything, and they provide me a sense of...”

Mr. Coolatta paused, tapping his finger to his chin as he thought about it.

“They provide me...an outlet, for my appreciation—of Earth life. I have a sense of responsibility, and as much as I provide them, enrichment, they are very much—the same for me. Life on Earth can be...tedious, and repetitive, in ways I thought at first I couldn’t handle.” Mr. Coolatta went on. Bubby watched him closely as he spoke, the way the wavering blue lights from inside the tank shifted over his calm, sentimental face. “But...things like—my aquarium, people like my son, people like...you two...show me, every day, that it isn’t entirely repetitive. I watch the fish grow, I watch them live, and learn—and, regrettably, die. Things are always shifting around inside the, tank, even if I don’t actively...change them myself, even though I am still...enacting the same routine, of feeding and caring for them. It’s—Harold, please don’t tap the glass.”

Bubby was snapped out Mr. Coolatta’s long monologue, glancing over at Harold, whose index finger was currently pressed against the glass as he stared down at one of the shrimp.

“Oh! Sorry.” Harold replied sheepishly.

“Uhh...ah, I lost my...train of thought.” Mr. Coolatta murmured.

“It must get tedious as hell to take care of all this.” Bubby commented, looking again at how massive the tank was.

“Oh, a little bit.” Mr. Coolatta admitted. “But I enjoy it, ultimately. As I said, life on Earth itself can be, tedious. But the reward I receive for seeing my aquarium, thrive, is more than enough—compensation for it all. I enjoy being...an integral part of something like this. It’s what I love about—Earth so much, really. Everything is...somewhat comprised of, circles, if you will, that interact with one another in vital ways. I am, a part of this aquarium’s circle—and a part of, Tommy’s, and it goes on. It encompasses the entire planet, to a point, and that—in turn—contributes to the livelihood of, the universe. My tiniest fish in here may seem—insignificant, in the face of the universe, but...his impact on the tank, on me—that all ripples out, eventually, even continuing on...in ways humans, don’t perceive or process.”

Bubby stared at Mr. Coolatta as he continued, something stirring in his chest. They were almost polar opposites, in a sense, Bubby realized—Mr. Coolatta was an alien, a man who spent most of his life off Earth, doing and seeing things Bubby could only dream of; and now, here he was, fixated on the tiny lives of fish, creatures Bubby had barely even given the time of day. On the other hand, Bubby had grown entirely on Earth, and dedicated so much of his life to the study of space, dimensional rifts, and the universe itself. For an alien, Mr. Coolatta felt surprisingly more grounded than Bubby did.

“Time, space, and life, they all have...an impact on one another.” Mr. Coolatta continued passionately. “We all have, an impact, on the universe, even when we think we’re doing absolutely nothing. Our inaction ripples out, the same way action—does. Manipulation of...time and space, life—and the consequences of...existence, it all requires knowing when to stay still, and when to take even the subtlest action. Most of my work, before the resonance cascade, was—centered around, tiny nudges, to ripple out into massive consequences. However, at this time...I—Harold, please don’t open the tank.”

Bubby looked to Harold again, finding one hand having already opened a small part of the lid, another clearly about to reach inside.

“Oh! Of course. Sorry.” Harold laughed sheepishly. “It’s just—that plant there looks like it has a very interesting texture.”

“Which one?” Mr. Coolatta asked, stepping around Bubby to lean in close over Harold’s shoulder. Harold pointed at the one he was looking at helpfully.

“Oh, that is...not a plant, exactly.” Mr. Coolatta said. “That is a...sea fan. A type of coral.”

Bubby watched as Mr. Coolatta explained to him the anatomy and care requirements of a sea fan extensively. Suddenly, Mr. Coolatta was removing his suit jacket, rolling up his sleeves carefully and meticulously. Watching the process was almost mesmerizing, Bubby thought, before he invited Harold to roll his sleeves up as well. Harold pushed his own up eagerly, watching as Mr. Coolatta opened the tank.

“Here.” Mr. Coolatta said, holding his hand out with his palm up. “Technically, I cannot invite you, to touch the coral—but, I will show you what’s safe to touch.”

Harold put his hand in Mr. Coolatta’s, and he guided him to what was acceptable to feel. Bubby watched them, bathed in the shifting glow of the aquarium lights, clearly just as much enjoying each others’ touch as they were enjoying the interaction with the tank. Mr. Coolatta pulled Harold’s hand back out once one of the fish approached, though, closing the lid as quickly as he’d opened it.

“Ah, that’s...Orange Fanta.” Mr. Coolatta explained. “He can be—a little...territorial. He doesn’t appreciate my—presence, inside the tank.”

“He’s not even orange.” Bubby criticized.

“Well—no, but he acts...how I feel...Orange Fanta tastes.” Mr. Coolatta replied, as if it was obvious.

“It’s really a beautiful tank!” Harold complimented warmly, now that he’d had an opportunity to touch it. “It must have taken a lot of time and work to set this up! I find that very admirable.”

Mr. Coolatta smiled, somewhat bashfully. “Oh. Thank you—very much. That means quite a lot.”

“All of that you were saying before was beautiful as well—all about...ecosystems, and life and the universe.” Harold went on, taking up Mr. Coolatta’s hand in his own. “Your views on Earth life are wonderful, Mr. Coolatta.”

“Oh, yes, I was—well...hoping to say, on that note...” Mr. Coolatta cleared his throat, returning to that slight anxious, out-of-his-depth disposition he’d had at the mall. “My work, before the resonance cascade, was concerning such—small actions, to turn to massive consequences. I thought, perhaps, by living on Earth—I would...stop concerning myself with, matters of the universe, by remaining rather inactive. But, life, no matter how small, always impacts the universe in an imperceptible way. I don’t wish to be inactive. I would like to concern myself more, with how I could...be a part of something. Impact the lives of, those I care about, and...in turn, let them change me. You two never offer any sort of...predictability. I...have found myself, rather fond of that. If...you’d...l-let me be a part of that, I think...”

Mr. Coolatta trailed off, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I-I’d like that. A lot.” He finally finished quietly, staring down at Harold’s hands in his own.

“Oh, Mr. Coolatta, that’s so sweet.” Harold said, placing his dry hand up to the side of Mr. Coolatta’s face. “Personally, I think that sounds wonderful! I’d love to spend more time with you.”

Mr. Coolatta smiled down at him, placing his hand to the back of Harold’s. They both looked so happy, Bubby thought with butterflies in his stomach. Once Mr. Coolatta’s gaze turned curiously to him, Bubby couldn’t help but flap his hands a little bit anxiously before stepping forward. Harold moved a little out of the way, so Bubby could stand properly in front of Mr. Coolatta. Bubby reached for his tie, noting it had been pulled askew a little bit when he’d taken off his jacket. He straightened it out for him before letting his palms rest on his shoulders.

“I’d...like to get to know you better.” He said cautiously, heart racing. “I don’t know what happened with the resonance cascade, I sort of regretted dismissing it at first. I wanted to ask you more, but...I mean, honestly, if it weren’t for that, I probably wouldn’t be up on the surface now. Plus, if you put so much value in the life of a single fish these days, I think it sounds safe to say your stances have changed a little on...cosmic importance or what have you. So...eh.”

Mr. Coolatta nodded in understanding, his hand finding its way to Bubby’s shoulder. His hand was cold—Bubby normally couldn’t stand the cold, but he could learn to live with this, he thought. “Yes, my...stance, on ‘cosmic importance’, has changed rather drastically. To be honest...I simply look forward, now, to living...a simple life. I am eager to get to know you better, as well.”

Bubby grinned as a thought occurred to him. “Plus, if I start dating you, I get to hold that over Tommy’s head whenever anything comes up.”

Harold laughed loudly at that, draping his arm around Bubby’s waist and taking Mr. Coolatta’s free hand. “Oh, yes, that sounds fantastic!”

“Oh, please don’t...use that to, bully my son.” Mr. Coolatta replied, squeezing Bubby’s shoulder.

“Why not? Tommy bullies me all the time.” Bubby commented, feigning a serious tone. “Your son can have a bit of a mean streak, Mr. Coolatta.”

“My son? No, absolutely—not.” Mr. Coolatta said, his tone equally serious. Bubby wondered for a moment if he’d genuinely pushed it too far before Mr. Coolatta spoke again, with the hint of a smile on his lips. “I’ve never...known my son, to hurt even a fly.”

They all shared a laugh at that, despite how dark the joke had gotten.

“So...at this point, I think I’m legally entitled to know your actual fucking name.” Bubby pointed out. “I can’t call you ‘Mr. Coolatta’ forever, you know.”

Mr. Coolatta looked surprised at that, turning his gaze away. “Oh...well...I don’t—actually have one. I only, adopted, the last name...‘Coolatta’, after learning it was...what Tommy chose.”

“Well, surely, you have one for legal reasons, right?” Bubby asked curiously.

“Yes, but...it’s not...anything I feel—connected to.” Mr. Coolatta replied with a frown. “To be honest—I don’t, quite like being referred to by it. I’m sorry.”

“That’s just fine! How about we just drop the ‘Mister’, then?” Harold suggested gently.

He nodded, looking slightly relieved. “Yes, that sounds...acceptable.”

Now that Bubby was more stable in his feelings, he finally felt he could relax a little more and just enjoy the evening with Coolatta and Harold. Coolatta seemed to be feeling the same way; it felt nice, sitting close with him and Harold on the couch. He had to pull up a blanket to do so, and squint to see what was going on on his TV, but adjustments could be made for this to be more comfortable. Otherwise, for now, Bubby was content.

#if u see me constantly projecting my love of aquariums onto different characters...no u don't <3

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