The quiet hum of Donnie’s lab was broken only by the occasional clink of metal tools and the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on a keyboard. Casey leaned against the edge of the workbench, arms crossed, watching his boyfriend with a soft grin.

“You’ve been at this for hours, brainiac,” Casey teased, tilting his head to catch Donnie’s eye. “Take a break before you fry your circuits.”

Donnie glanced up, adjusting his goggles, a playful glint in his eyes. “If I stop now, this upgrade might not be ready in time. You did say you wanted a better hockey mask, right?”

Casey laughed, shaking his head. “You’re seriously over-engineering it. I’m just a guy with a stick, Don. Don’t need fancy tech to knock heads.”

“Correction,” Donnie said, smirking as he leaned closer, “you’re my guy with a stick. And if you’re going to be running into danger, I’m making sure you have the best protection possible.”

Casey felt a blush creep up his neck, his grin softening. “You’re such a dork.”

“And you love it,” Donnie replied, sliding his goggles off and tugging Casey closer by his jacket.