Billy knows the minute he walks in, he's getting far too good at recognising Hammer with the back of his head. He thinks maybe that's a survival instinct.
"I'm doing laundry, and you're not allowed to harass me when I'm not in costume," Billy reminds him.
It's one of the rules.
Hammer appears at his left, in full costume, Billy's never seen him out of costume maybe he doesn't even have a real identity? Maybe his parents grew him in a tube.
"Evil laundry!" Hammer accuses, and Billy really is starting to wonder if Hammer is actually a crazy person.
"No, just laundry, strangely enough."
Hammer looks tempted, just for a moment, to rifle through it. Billy decides that if he tries it they're going to have a problem.
When nothing happens he turns back to his laundry. The hairs on the back of his neck crawl but he stubbornly refuses to turn back round and see what Hammer's doing. Because if there's one thing Hammer hates it's being ignored and Billy is willing to take every single victory he can get.
Ten seconds later it's significantly harder to ignore him, because Hammer's breathing down his neck like he expects evil to, at any moment, appear out of the back of his head.
Billy slithers round, finds Captain Hammer far too close and he knows from experience that trying to shove him away is a losing battle.
"Seriously, stop harassing me."
"I'm keeping an eye on you for the public good."
"You're keeping an eye on me doing laundry, you must have better things to do."
Hammer leans in, in a way he clearly thinks is fierce and heroic.
Billy looks down, at where Captain Hammer now has him pressed into the dryer with the sort of enthusiasm which isn't the flavour usually found between a hero and his nemesis. Suddenly a lot of things make sense.
"You're just a little bit gay aren't you," Billy says quietly.
There's a very long moment of pointed silence from Captain Hammer.
"Of course not, I'm a superhero," he says, not entirely convincingly.
As protests go, it's an interesting one.
"Of course you are," Billy says sensibly. "And the two are obviously mutually exclusive."
Hammer scowls at him like he doesn't know what that means, but suspects he's being insulted.
Then his expression changes, like someone flipped a switch in his brain.
"So, if I was, would you be-"
"No," Billy says carefully. "No, I don't think I would."
"Why not?" It's more of a demand than a question.
"You dislocated my shoulder last week," Billy reminds him, in case he's forgotten.
"You were doing evil!" Hammer protests.
Which is, broadly speaking, true. But it's the principle of the thing. Billy has a rule about dating people who regularly send him to the hospital.
"The Hammer can be gentle," Captain Hammer says, in what he clearly thinks is absolutely not a creepy voice.
Billy nearly knocks the basket off of the top of the dryer.
"No, I do not, I repeat, do not, in any way, want to become intimately acquainted with 'the Hammer.'" The fact that Billy's brain just put that in air quotes is very, very disturbing.
"The Hammer is-"
"Yes," Billy cuts him off before the mental images get any more disturbing. "I think we established what the Hammer is, or isn't, already, seriously don't you have anything better to do?"
The answer seems to be no.
Billy gets the feeling it's going to be a long day.