Ronnie leaned over the sink rinsing off the last of the dinner dishes. His father was in the living room watching a sitcom on TV, and the laugh track bled into the kitchen under the clatter of plates being stood up in the rack to dry. It had been a quiet evening at the Nolan house. Greg was having an okay day pain-wise, and Ronnie came home to find him firing up the small charcoal grill in the backyard. It had been a pleasant dinner, even as Ronnie wolfed down several burgers, inexplicably famished after the afternoon's training.

Greg asked about his day, and Ronnie spent the meal making up more stories about what he was doing at his "internship". Lying to his father still felt utterly unnatural, and he did his best to push away the feelings of guilt. He imagined Taran having dinner with his parents and thought about how at that meal, no one would be lying about what they did at work all day. Ronnie couldn't help but feel envious.

"But on the other hand," he thought, "He's still keeping a lot of secrets from them."

Taran had been on Ronnie's mind all afternoon. He replayed their brief interaction in the gym over and over in his head. Had Taran been guarded just because Maya was there, or was he regretting the night before? Was the date just a one-time thing? Where did this leave them? "So many questions," he thought. "And I'm going to go crazy if I don't get answers soon." He supposed he'd try to bring it up the next time he saw Taran.

Greg shuffled into the kitchen as Ronnie was wiping down the countertops. "Hey, kiddo, I'm headed out. You need me to grab anything while I'm gone?" A few of Greg's old cop buddies held a monthly poker night, and Ronnie was thrilled that Greg was feeling well enough to go.

"We're all set here. Have fun, say hi to everyone for me!"

"You be a good boy, Ronnie."

The screen door slammed, and Ronnie watched his father get into his old truck and drive away. He let out a contented sigh, genuinely looking forward to a quiet night in. The first week of his crazy new life had been exhilarating, but he was ready to switch his brain off for a while. Ronnie made himself comfortable on the living room couch and flipped through the TV channels.

A video of protesters waving signs appeared on the screen, causing Ronnie to sit up and take notice. A news anchor talked over the footage. "In yet another demonstration against the Syndicate of Heroes, radical group Children of Promise gave what they're calling, 'a warning to all nations,'"

The screen cut to a middle-aged man standing in front of a cluster of news microphones on what appeared to be the courthouse steps. A chyron at the bottom of the screen stated his name was Martin McCallister. "The truth is that we are dealing with an imbalance of cosmic proportions. In their unnatural crusade for what they call justice and order, The Syndicate has put the entire world at risk of divine retribution. These aberrations need to stop playing god, and normal people need to stop idolizing them."

Ronnie gasped. While McCallister was spouting the same nonsense as the protesters he saw in front of headquarters, he was far more put together. He had the well-polished cadence of a senior politician and a calm, even-keeled demeanor. It was clear to Ronnie that this was a man used to persuading people to see his point of view. If he did, it would put countless people at risk.

McCallister was flanked by two burly security guards. Another man stood behind him, considerably younger than the rest. He was dressed in a long black coat and had dark hair that fell in thick curls over one eye. The younger man leaned in to whisper something to the McCallister as the video cut back to the news studio.

Ronnie changed the channel in disgust. He wasn't about to let a bunch of nutjobs spoil his evening alone, and the incendiary speech was already fading from memory by the time he stumbled upon the classic film channel. It was playing an old black and white adventure movie that Ronnie had watched countless times as a kid. "Perfect!" He declared, settling in.

The film was about halfway through when something rapped on the living room window. Ronnie jolted from his cozy stupor, sitting up to search for the source of the sound. The window faced the backyard, a small plot of grass surrounded by a chain-link fence. Ronnie peered outside past the clothesline and grown-over vegetable garden. He couldn't see anything and surmised it was merely the wind rattling the bushes against the house. Nerves settled, Ronnie turned back towards the couch.

A breeze suddenly tore through the living room. The warm burst of air traveled up Ronnie's arm before whirling playfully through his hair, sending sandy locks in wayward directions. He laughed in surprise, batting at the wind and trying to put himself back in order. Butterflies in his stomach sprang to life as Ronnie opened the door to the backyard.

The night air was crisp and quiet, with the only sound being the muffled purr of traffic on the other side of the block. Puffy clouds were illuminated by the nearly-full moon, and the light from the living room window cut a bright swath across the grass. Ronnie padded down the faded brick steps and called out.

"Ok, mister, you've got my attention now."

There was another rustle of wind, and Ronnie looked up in time to see Silver Cyclone drop out of the sky and land in the middle of the yard. He touched down on the ground with a light thump, cape falling still over his shoulders.

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"Good evening, citizen," he said with a smile and mock salute.

"Oh, mister hero, thank goodness you're here! I'm alone in the middle of the night and so terribly afraid!" Ronnie laughed at his terrible Southern accent and bounded towards Taran. He stopped just short of him, suddenly unsure of how to proceed. Where had they left things?

Taran answered the question for him by pulling Ronnie into a hug." I've wanted to do this all day," he whispered in his ear.

Ronnie's arms slid under Taran's cape and linked around his waist. "I'm thrilled to hear it. How was dinner with your parents?"

"Ugh, don't ask."

"That good, huh?"

"It was exactly how I expected it to be."

"I'm sorry, that totally sucks. Patrol going ok, though?"

"It's been pretty good. Broke up a bar fight and stopped a mugging. Typical stuff."

"Mmm, so brave! So, what brings you to this side of town?"

"I've always made a point to get this way a couple times a night, actually. But also, I wanted to see you." Taran's silver mask glinted in the moonlight as he smiled. The smile didn't quite reach his eyes, though. Whatever happened at dinner, it was still eating at him.

Ronnie sighed contentedly and rested his head on Taran's shoulder. The heavy cape felt cold against his cheek, making him shiver and hold on tighter. An idea came to mind. "Did you want to come inside? Dad's out for the night."

"Sure, but only for a little bit. Gotta get back to it."

Ronnie took Taran's hand and led him back to the house. The movie he was watching had just gotten to one of the hero's big romantic speeches.

"Oh my god, I love this movie!" Taran exclaimed. "I must have watched it a hundred times as a kid!"

"Same here, it's my favorite. Everything is so dramatic, everyone falls in love... say, are you sure your parents don't know you're gay?"

"Har har. Asshole." Taran unclipped his cape from his shoulders and laid it over the back of the living room chair. He stretched the kinks out of his arms and yawned before plopping down on the couch.

Ronnie ran to the kitchen and started rummaging around the cupboards. He peeked around the corner, watching Taran get comfortable. "There's a superhero in my living room," he thought with a gleeful smile. "A cute superhero that I've been macking on is in the living room, and we're gonna hang out."

"Hey, uh, Silver Cyclone?" he called out. It felt weird to not use Taran's code name when he was sitting there in full uniform.

A snort from the living room. "Yes?"

"Did you want a snack or something?"

"Only if you're going to have one!"

Ronnie returned to the living room, carefully carrying a plate of sandwich cookies and two glasses of milk. He sat down on the couch next to Taran and handed him a drink.

"Awesome, this will definitely get me through patrol. I didn't end up eating much at dinner, and all the flying makes me hungry."

"I've been meaning to ask you about that! I have been STARVING all day! Am I going to need to start eating a lot more?"

Taran laughed. "I should have warned you. Most superpowers are metabolic in nature, which means: calories in, calories out. You can imagine how much energy force fields or flying requires. We've got some snack bars at headquarters that are pretty good before a patrol, but I was distracted with the whole dinner thing today. So, I guess it's a good thing I stopped by!"

"I'm glad I could help then!" Their eyes met and both fell silent. Ronnie motioned Taran closer and gently pulled off his mask when he leaned in. "That's better. I like being able to see your face." He planted a quick peck on Taran's cheek and cuddled in close. An arm slid across his chest, holding him tight.

Ronnie pulled apart a cookie and looked up at Taran, studying him carefully. The guarded nervousness from the night before wasn't entirely gone, but he was noticeably more relaxed, mouthing along to the lines of the movie. Ronnie traced the stitching along Taran's arm, following the silver threads in his uniform. Everything was peaceful for a while longer until the film credits rolled.

"I suppose I should get going," Taran whispered to Ronnie, who had started to doze off.

"What?" He started awake. "No! I don't want you to leave."

"Me either, but I've been here too long already. I need to get back to my patrol. Control's going to be wondering why I was stalled up here for so long, anyway."

"What will you tell them?"

"Just that I was checking in to see how you were doing, and we ended up chatting longer than I anticipated."

"Maya's working tonight, do you think she'll buy that?"

Taran laughed. "Well Maya probably already knows something's up. You can't fool a psychic girl."

Ronnie thought back to when the three of them were in the gym earlier that day. He was a little mortified to think that Maya might have picked up on the vibes he was giving off. "I suppose I don't mind if Maya knows we're dating,"

Shit. Ronnie immediately regretted the word and wondered if he could play it off as a slip of the tongue. "I mean —"

Taran cut him off. "I suppose I wouldn't mind that either."

Ronnie's heart fluttered at the response. He pulled Taran up off the couch. "Ok, you better be off. Taran took back his mask and slipped it on. Just like that, his identity was hidden from the world.

Taran was fastening his cape to the clips over his shoulders when Ronnie heard the rumble of his dad's truck as it turned into the driveway. "Shit, you gotta go!" He pushed Taran out the back door and into the yard, apologizing profusely.

"Be careful out there," He called from the doorway.

"I always am."

Taran took a few steps away from the house and flung his cape out behind him, bending his knees in preparation for take-off.

"Wait!"

Ronnie dashed down the steps, crashing into Taran as he whirled back around. He managed to recover and wrapped his arms around Taran's neck, pulling him in for a long kiss. He finally broke away at the sound of the front screen door slamming shut.

"I better go," Taran looked a little dazed, and Ronnie couldn't help but laugh. It was too adorable, and he didn't want this feeling to ever end.

"You know, it's pretty cool."

"What is?"

"Seeing your boyfriend fly off to protect the city."

Taran stood up straight and brushed a piece of hair away from Ronnie's eyes. "I like that." Then, he turned on his heel, took two long steps forward, and shot up into the sky. The wind whistled through the yard in a cyclone for a brief before settling down once again. In the newly quiet evening, Ronnie could have sworn he heard the sound of thunder off in the distance.