Title: Hooper Alwyas Knew (Precision Gaydar)

Fandom: Chasing Amy

Pairing: OS Banky/Holden, implied Holden/Alyssa, Banky/Hooper

Rating: PG-13-ish (one swear word! homosexual themes! this is Askewniverse fic, you should expect it!)

Statement Made to Cover One's Ass: Kevin Smith is a god among men, and the owner of these men. I am not him.

Hooper had always known. Being a gay man, he had gaydar, the uncanny sixth sense to detect his own kind from miles away. From the day he met Banky, he was very aware that this boy was not like the macho homophobic image he presented.

He entered the comicon with a large box in his hands, obscuring his face. Holden, of course, got to set up the table, telling him where everything went, and where he was supposed to sit. The poor boy followed his friend's every command, with this weird look on his face.

One of the first things he noticed about him, other than the fact that he was following his friend around like a puppy dog, were his hands. Those were not the hands of a straight man. The fingers were so long, so delicate. The way he held the pen, how he used them to speak. They might have been considered beautiful by some people.

After they had been formally introduced, he had to make notice of exactly how harsh Banky's personality was. Having put on straight facade himself for years, simply to sell comics, he knew what the act looked like, and this child was a sad, sad, example.

Holden, of course, was oblivious to this. Poor boy had absolutely no sense of gay or straight, but Hooper knew that early on after having to explain to him that he was really more into Clark Kent than Lois Lane. He had tried to keep Banky's secret from him for as long as possible, but things with Alyssa had gotten way too out of hand to hold it in any longer

"Don't kid yourself. That boy loves you in a way he ain't ready to deal with."

The night of the incident, Banky called him up, sobbing and asking if he could stay with him for a little while, until he got his shit together. When Hooper opened the door an hour later, there he was, his blue hat wrenched in his fist, hair a mess. His normally laughing brown eyes were bloodshot from crying.

Hooper pulled the taller man against him in a firm, caring hug.

"I'm sorry you had to go through this Banky. I came out on my own, but I can only imagine how it feels to be forced out like that, having your heart stomped on like that."

"Hoop, how did you know?" he asked, an almost disbelieving look on his face.

Hooper laughed. "Honey, I always knew. Now come over here and tell Momma all your problems."