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Supervillain Husbandry

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The kid who delivers their newspapers, which Mick still insists on getting despite the fact that Len insists the Internet is faster and easier and probably more reliable than the papers given how fast news changes and happens, always seems to make sure the papers – and yes…plural – land everywhere but the front porch. The end of the driveway, the roof, the gutter, the bushes, five feet away from the door, hell once even in the fuckin tree.

“I don’t know why we have to waste money on three different newspapers when Internet news is still free.” Len pointed out over breakfast one morning while Mick was leisurely reading the Times while eating his toast. It wasn’t as though Len would mind spending the money to indulge Mick, it was just that he didn’t get it. It wasn’t as though Mick wasn’t tech savvy, although it was true a lot of people mistook him for a Luddite.

“I like sittin at the table and readin the paper all easy and casual. It’s relaxing. A tablet ain’t the same.” Mick answered with a shrug and took a sip of his coffee while continuing with the article about the funding for the power plant he was currently reading.

Len thought about it and still didn’t quite see Mick’s point on that part. But, he did have to admit, as he looked his husband over while he was perusing the paper over breakfast, that he did make a rather handsome picture sitting there like that in his jeans and long-sleeved white undershirt with his suspenders, the morning sunlight spilling in through the nearby window of their breakfast nook and highlighting Mick’s masculine, chiseled features. And his cute little ears, which Len had to take a bite of his eggs in order to avoid licking his lips over the memory of sucking and nipping at the lobes of earlier this morning.

And, he had to admit with a smirk as he took up his own coffee to wash down the eggs with that it was adorable to watch Mick pick those papers up in the mornings. Especially if they were within a reasonable distance of the house rather than, say, halfway up the branches of their cherry tree.

Mick would go to the front door in nothing but his undershorts, open it and peer outside carefully while hiding the lower half of his body behind the door, look around carefully and then throw the door wide open and make a mad dash in nothing but his underwear, and sometimes his socks, to grab the papers and run back inside before the door shut behind him and latched. One of these days, Mick would probably get locked out.

“You know, you could just unlock the door before you go out to grab the papers.” Len pointed out much earlier that morning on his way through the living room upon seeing Mick finish his mad dash.

“Yeah, but then I’ll forget to lock it and the door’ll be open all the time. Don’t want any thieves to get in.” Mick said, with a straight face, causing Len to snort and roll his eyes as he headed off into the kitchen to take his turn making breakfast.

“Then you could put some pants on in case you get locked out. What if a troop of Girl Scouts are going by when that happens?” Len pointed out, opening a cupboard.

“Ain’t no troop of Girl Scouts gonna just march by for no reason. This ain’t the woods, we’re in the middle of the city.” Mick answered. “Besides, if I did that I wouldn’t feel like I need to run as fast.”

“So? I’ll let you in if your fool ass gets locked out.” Len pointed out, although admittedly he would never let Mick hear the end of it.

“Yeah, but I get kind of a thrill from seein if I can beat the door.” Mick replied with a patented ‘what ya gonna do’ shrug, as though it simply couldn’t be helped.

Len said nothing as he took some things down from the cupboard and went to the fridge to get some eggs and milk. Well, it wasn’t like he was seriously complaining about Mick’s mad dash for the paper each morning. It was freaking adorable, not to mention watching Mick run around in his underwear was always a nice sight. Especially in the winter time, when he came inside and his skin was slightly flushed and his nipples were hard….

Len looked down at the egg he’d just accidentally crushed all over the counter. Thankfully, Mick had gone up to get washed up and dressed, so he wasn’t there to see it, so Len cleaned it up and simply never spoke of it.