“Come on, I’m not that bad,” The villain shouted, grinning, joy pumping through his veins. He loved his battles with the hero because it was the only time he got to see him, speak with him, interact with him.

The hero did not feel the same (or at least that’s what he told himself).

“You- You’re the most despicable person I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet! Hell, you’re not even a person! You’re a- some- psycho spider monster!” The hero sneered at the villain, hiding the panic in his eyes. He was stumbling backward, away from the villain with eight legs and four eyes. He had lost, and he knew it, and he was angry and tired of the feelings he got in his chest whenever the villain smiled.

The villain’s grin slipped off his face, and a wave of hurt crashed so hard in his chest he almost stumbled back from the force of it. The leafy vines that had been curling around the building suddenly retracted back into the ground, leaving the building plant-free in the span of seconds. The villain skittered back, his face open and vulnerable. His pinchers folded in close to his face, and he opened his mouth to say something, but he glanced down, down at the half of his body that resembled a giant spider, and turned, crawling up and away through a hole in the ceiling so fast the hero didn’t have time to say a word.

The hero stared at the hole in the ceiling, not even realizing the harmless vines that had bound his arms had disappeared.

A week passed, and though he didn’t show it, the hero was panicking inside. At least two or three times a week the villain would commit some crime, destroy something that always called his attention. But it had been silent for a week, and the hero was feeling a sense of abandonment he knew he shouldn’t be feeling, but that he kept feeling all the same.

Another week passed, and the hero found himself standing at the edge of a dense forest about 10 miles out of the city that bordered on the jungle. Several times he had chased the villain there, but every time he tried to get more than a couple of steps in, vines dragged him back out again. This forest was the only connection the hero had to the villain, and he hated himself for it, but he missed the battles and the witty banter that he secretly smiled at underneath his mask.

He had cursed himself a million times for what he had said. But all he knew was that at the time, he had been agreeing with the villain, that he wasn’t so bad, not really. And before he knew it, he was panicking, and he only threw out words that meant no one would suspect him for his feelings.

And so here he was. In regular clothes, no less. He had on his glasses, and a striped turtleneck, and khakis that were really rather ugly. But he was there, and everything in him was screaming to go back home, to put on his mask, to do anything other than what he was about to do.

The villain felt dull and dark. He’d been crushing on the hero for nearly a year now, and that hero was the only reason he had become the villain in the first place. He knew he wasn’t normal, knew he was an abomination of nature, but to see the hero’s face twist up in disgust and say it… that was a different kind of hurt.

So here he was two weeks later, sitting in the cave he had made into his home. Most of his things were stolen, yes, but the decorating was nicely done, and had there been electricity, it would have been perfect. He had stolen books and manuscripts that he read in his free time, but his bookcase had remained untouched since he returned. The puzzle he had been in the middle of completing had been gathering dirt on the wooden table that stood in the corner. There was a web in the other corner of the cave, as far back as possible, and every time he looked at it, he felt sick.

It only served as a reminder, and for the first time in his life, he hated everything about his body, and he couldn’t stand the feeling of his pinchers lying against his face. The vines that served as an entrance hadn’t been touched since he went back home two weeks ago. His bowl of fruit was nearly empty, but he only sulked on the colorful pillows he had stolen because he thought they looked pretty. He’d only changed his shirt once, and now he was sulking about in a long-sleeved grey shirt, trying to hide as much of his body from view as possible.

The hero was muttering curses under his breath, and was regretting the baggy brown jacket he had thrown over his shirt that morning. It kept getting caught on every branch he passed, and a part of him wanted to say the forest was doing it’s best to stop him.

He’d been walking for nearly thirty minutes now, and he knew deep down he was lost, but he kept pushing forward, unsure of what he was even looking for. He was getting quite loud, what with tripping over rocks and sticks, and getting leaves and thorns tangled in his jacket and hair.

Something was off, however, and it took him another ten minutes to realize that the birdsong he had heard had stopped, and he no longer saw squirrels and rabbits racing away from his footsteps. Just as he realized this, a mountain of sorts came into view, and there, along the unbroken wall of stone, was a hole that was covered neatly with flowery vines.

Something was off, the villain could feel it. He felt alert for the first time since that day, and without even realizing it, he backed away to his web, and he climbed up into the shadows of the ceiling, and watched his entrance, waiting.

The hero walked to the entrance cautiously, his heart thumping in his chest. Was this it?

The villain could hear someone approaching, could see a shadow. He bared his fangs.

The hero brushed aside the vines carefully, and stood shocked at what he saw. It was like an apartment if you ignored the stone walls. There were rugs and pillows, a table, a bookcase, and was that a puzzle?

Could this be it? Could this be where the villain lived?

The villain sat frozen, his heart thumping far too wildly in his chest. There was a stranger in his house. Looking at his stuff. The villain sat in the safety of shadows, his heart both broken and alive. Was he looking for him?

The stranger wandered around, but when he reached out to touch a scroll on the bookcase, the villain hissed loudly without even thinking about it, only knowing that that was his.

The hero spun around, alarmed, eyes wide. He looked around, panicked, and finally paused on a corner of darkness, in which he could make out nothing.

“I-is someone there?” He wasn’t proud of how his voice trembled, but he wasn’t wearing his mask, and a part of him refused to be brave without it.

“What do you want?” The villain didn’t move from where he was, and he remained still as a mouse, eyes narrowed, waiting from a response from the mousy haired guy below him. He ignored the part of him that was rather pleased with his appearance.

The hero backed up nervously, because he knew that voice, but never had it sounded as cold and unfeeling as it did now.

“I’m here looking for someone, and er, well I think it’s you.” The hero urged himself to have confidence, and as he did, his voice regained a bit of strength.

The villain let out a small noise, because he knew that voice. Sure it was usually a lot stronger, and perhaps he did look different than what he had imagined, but he would know that voice anywhere. And a bit of anger went through him. The hero was looking for him?

The villain dropped down with no warning, without thinking, fangs bared and venom dripping from the ends. “What? Do you have more insults to throw at me?”

The hero stumbled back when the villain dropped down, completely unready for the bite and anger in the villain’s voice. He ended up tripping on the edges of one of the patterned rugs, and he landed on his butt, cowering before the villain who had run from him two weeks ago.

He stared in horror, because he had never seen him look like this. No, his villain never had fangs and venom, never towered above him, looking just like the villain he was supposed to be.

“What? Do you have more insults to throw at me?”

The hero flinched at the villain’s words.

The villain was growling, trying to cover up the hurt in his chest, trying to suppress the urge to break down and cry right then and there.

The hero pushed up the wireframe glasses that were balanced on his nose, and the villain wasn’t at all ready when he said, “I’m sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean it. I came to apologize.”

The villains sunk back down from his haunches immediately, completely unprepared for that response. He watched as the hero stood back up, thoughts racing widely through his head.

“B-but, why?”

The hero felt a pull at his heart when he watched the confusion dance over the villain’s face. Because without the anger there to cover it, the hero could see the sadness and grief that was really there, and he finally noticed the tattered shirt he wore, and the way his cheekbones seemed more prominent than before.

The villain was skittering backwards, his face once again open and vulnerable. He never was good at hiding his emotions, and all of the sudden he was finding it very overwhelming to be trapped in his own home.

“I was angry and confused, and I lashed out, and I shouldn’t have. I’ve been out here searching for you so I can apologize.” The hero’s voice was soft, as if he knew how fragile the villain felt at the moment.

The hero kept his voice low and calm, because he was watching the anxiety and fear bloom on the villain’s face, and he suddenly felt terrible that he was the one who had caused it all.

The villain cradled his hands against his chest, backing away still, his emotions overflowing from his brain, crowding his mind. He didn’t feel very in control of the situation at all, and he wished his brain would stop thinking about how his glasses looked on him, because that really wasn’t helping.

“Confused? About wh-what?” The villain cursed his stutter, but he couldn’t control his words as well when he was emotional, and his lisp started to drip back into his speech, too. Damned fangs.

The hero swallowed. The villain was visibly panicking, and he could see it, but now he was panicking, too. Because what could he tell him? That he thought he was straight? That he was confused because you weren’t supposed to like the way your enemy smiled?

But that was the truth, wasn’t it? That was exactly how it happened, and the hero was feeling terribly reckless, and a part of his mind wouldn’t shut up about how cute the villain’s stutter was.

So he swallowed both his pride and his rational thoughts, and said, “Because I really, really like you.”

The villain made an absurd squeaking noise, and there was a brief pause, but he then looked at the hero, his mind coming up with an explanation, his eyes filling with tears.

“Look, congratulations on figuring it out, but it’d be great if you’d stop making fun of me. Haven’t you done that enough?” The villain was pressed as far back into the wall as he could get, and he was dangerously close to crying, and his insides felt like they were being squeezed dry.

The hero took in the sight before him, and it suddenly became abundantly clear to him all at once what was going on, and guilt has never hit a person as hard as it hit him.

“No! I mean- no, I’m not- I really do like you. I’m telling the truth.” The hero took a step back, trying to give the villain some space, because he looked like he was this close to climbing the wall to get farther away from him.

The villain sniffed, looking at the hero suspiciously. He looked sincere, that’s true, but what if it was a lie? He felt terribly small, and despite the fact that he could force himself to stand nearly two feet taller than the hero, he felt no larger than six inches. And despite the appalling corduroy jacket the hero was wearing, the villain felt he may as well have been armed with a gun.

The villain looked less scared and more suspicious now, and the hero kept talking, trying not to think about how the villain had said, “Congrats on figuring it out,”.

“Really, that’s the reason I said those things. I was panicking, because I believed what you were saying, too much, and I only said the opposite of what I was thinking. I’m so sorry, I should have never said that.” The hero held up his hands cautiously, still not taking a step forward. His eyes were open and pleading, and he stared into the villain’s pretty blue eyes, willing him to believe him.

The villain swallowed nervously, his shoulders untensing just slightly. Oh, how nice it would be to believe him.

The hero paused, and he had a feeling he was right there, right at the edge, so he said, “You’re not a monster, and you’re definitely a person. I didn’t mean any of it, and in reality, I really think you’re rather beautiful.”

The villain squeaked again, quite loudly this time, flinching back against the wall. His face flushed bright red, and he snapped his mouth closed, staring at the endearing smile that the hero’s face was hinting at.

Oh, how bloody cute.

The villain stayed still, and watched as the hero took a step forward, eyebrows raised in question. The villain could hardly believe himself, but he was nodding his head, and the hero continued moving forward slowly, and if anything, the villain’s face only seemed to flush more. His mind was flooding, flooding with thoughts and images and worries and fantasies and oh god he’s so close.

The hero paused, smiling gently at the villain who was clearly nervous and alarmed, and, heart pounding in his ears, the hero raised a hand up to the villain’s face and gently cupped a palm around his cheek, right behind his pinchers.

The villain swallowed nervously, his eyes wide, staring at the hero in front of him.

“Y-You’re being serious?” The villain rasped, his hands fidgeting in front of his chest.

The hero nodded, feeling brighter than he had in a long time, and leaned just slightly closer, paying no heed to the pinchers next to his face. “Can I kiss you?”

“I-If you want to,” The villain swallowed nervously. He’d never kissed anyone before, and part of him didn’t see how the hero could possibly want to kiss him.

“Yeah, I do.” And just like that, the hero and the villain shared their first kiss, and it may have been a little awkward, but by the gods, neither of them would have changed it for the world.