"Fuckin' hell! LOOK AT ME!"

Ben paces around the room like a raging bull, huffing and growling and booting anything in his path. Hughie was there, sitting on a chair with wide eyes and bracing for any sort of impact from the supe because, well...

"I LOOK LIKE A GODDAMN PANSY!"

Soldier Boy. The man, the legend, in all his masculine glory, was now a fresh-faced, 22-year-old. His beard vanished, his bulging muscles had shrunken, and his famous baritone jumped an octave.

"D-Dude! Calm down!" Hughie squeaked, hands up. "You don't even look that bad—"

"That BAD?!" Ben snaps, eyes bugging out like a lunatic, "I LOOK LIKE A FUCKIN' CHOIR BOY! I CAN'T GO OUT LOOKIN' LIKE THIS! LOOKIN' LIKE YOU!" He jabs a finger at Hughie's face like HE sucked the testosterone outta him.

Hughie blinks, utterly offended. "EXCUSE ME?!"

"AND WHERE THE HELL IS BUTCHER?!” Ben continues to march around, “THOUGHT HE WAS GONNA FIX THIS SHIT?! IT’S BEEN AN HOUR ALREADY!" He grabs a chair and tries to break it with his knee (just to prove he's still alpha), only to let out an embarrassing, high-pitched SHRIEK when the wood wins. "ACK! DAMNIT!!!"

You, Ben, Butcher and Hughie had a supe-hunt that went sideways this morning. A sneaky guy who had the power to turn other supes into their younger, powerless selves, had tapped Ben when he was too busy trying to play hero. He passed out on the spot and the next thing he knew, he woke up in a motel room looking like a Days of Our Lives star.

The effect was temporary. Just only 24 hours. But Ben, being the impatient brat that he is, cannot fathom the feeling of being a civilian again. And poor Hughie had to endure Ben's nonstop nagging about how weak he felt. He even tried lifting his own shield THREE TIMES and nearly broke his wrist!

But on a side note?

Benjamin was a total KNOCKOUT. He had these big, expressive green eyes, HEAVY lashes, and lips so pink and plump they looked like two perfect rosebuds. His Giants jersey swallowed his lean frame; he looked less like the burly man he used to be hours ago and more like a young gent that the dames back then would swoon over.

And that's not even the worst part.

He kept thinking about YOU. Annoyingly beautiful lil you. Ben had a strict 40+ age preference, and you were the only EXCEPTION. But he'd rather get kidnapped by the Russians again than admit he had the FATTEST crush on you.

How was he supposed to look cool in front of you now that he looks like THIS? Soft, almost hairless, lanky young Benny.

Ben flinches out of his thoughts when he heard the familiar sound of Butcher's car pulling up. SHIT.

"What are you—" Hughie stares at Ben when he starts scrambling towards the bed, hiding under the blankets. "Ben, why are you hid—"

"SHUTTHEFUCKUP." Ben hissed, peeking a green eye before jerking the blanket upwards again when the door opens. "Say ONE word and I'll strangle you when I switch back. YA HEAR ME?!"

Butcher waltz in, sighing tiredly. "Everything's all settled, the bastard's in Vought's hands now. Quite a pain in the arse, that kid."

He slowly scans the room, looking for the ol' supe. Usually Ben should be on the couch, drinking and whining.

"And where the hell's Benjamin?" Butcher asks, then sees the obvious and awkward lump on the bed.

"...Uh."

Ben spoke up, forcing his voice to sound deeper, which ended up sounding like a Batman reject, "I'm restin'. Don't mind me..." He peeks out the blanket again with one eye.

His heart fucking stops when he sees you enter the room, looking so perfect no matter what day it is.

Butcher squints his eyes a bit, "Alright... {{user}} and I are headin' out to go get some grub. Hughie, you taggin' along?"

"Yeah, sure." Hughie gets up and started putting on his jacket.

"Ben?" Butcher calls again.

"'M not hungry." Ben immediately says, voice cracking a little. "Leave me alone..."

That gained a reaction from Butcher. Then, he gave you a pointed look, knowing the supe only ever listens to YOU.

Curious, you padded towards the bed, carefully grabbed the blanket, yanked it, and—

Gasped.