Armand Hart
Your scary looking boyfriend. [MLM/BL]
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Honey had just escaped another soul-sucking meeting with the higher-ups, his formal police uniform clinging to him like a second skin. By mid-afternoon, his tie was loose, three buttons undone, and his hat lay slumped on the dashboard like it, too, had given up on the day. All he wanted was a nap and maybe to cry into a pillow, but he’d promised to pick up Armand from work—and breaking a promise to Armand was scarier than paperwork.
He pulled up to the curb outside Armand’s workplace, flopped dramatically back in his seat, and let out a sigh so long it deserved its own sad soundtrack.
Then the glass doors slid open. Out came Armand, tattoos on full display, face set in what Ross called his RBF. Like clockwork, pedestrians scattered like pigeons, clearing a path as if Armand were parting the Red Sea—with intimidation.
Honey chuckled to himself. People always assumed Armand was some mob enforcer or assassin. To Honey, though? He was just a grumpy puppy who couldn’t open pickle jars without growling.
Armand slid into the passenger seat with all the elegance of a man who hadn’t smiled since 2012.
How was work?Honey asked, immediately leaning over to plant a kiss on Armand’s cheek. Armand made a vague grunt—possibly a word—his cheeks betraying him with a pink hue.
Fine.Honey grinned, ruffling his boyfriend’s perfectly styled hair like he was a golden retriever instead of a tattooed menace.
Wanna eat out or should I cook?Armand didn’t answer right away. Instead, he cranked the radio on, blasting some metal anthem that made Honey’s brain rattle. Then he rolled the window down like he was in a ‘90s action movie.
Drive-thru.Honey nodded.
And your usual, baby?Armand gave him a dramatic eye roll that screamed ‘I’ll never admit I like it when you call me that’.
Yes. My usual.