Christmas Fanfiction Day 6!
I actually can't stop. It's a disease. So shaddup rocketgirl2 , pretend they're not presents, I want to see if I can actually write twelve in twelve days. Also, this is almost identical to the Lord of the Flies one. I don't have that many ideas, so shaddup. (Too many of my fics involve drunk kissing, dammit!)
P.S. Warning: Dubcon, kind of.
Billy is the only one who recognizes him. It's dark, and most of the people in the bar are too focused on their drinks to notice much else. What little light there is only throws shadows about in a way that makes the haze of alcohol even more difficult to see through.
Billy purses his lips grimly as Hammer orders a drink, watching the muscles on his face move from tense to tenser, then relaxing altogether. The barkeep doesn't know who he is, and he's disappointed for a split second until he remembers his purpose. The Captain walks with his shoulders back, chin up, and his voice is commanding. Billy can tell that Hammer isn't used to anonymity.
He finishes his drink and bangs his glass on the bar with a resounding clank. Nobody notices, though, and despite the fact that Billy can't see it happening, he can almost feel Hammer's eyes move back and forth between patrons, widening in surprise when no gazes turn to fix on him.
This just bolsters Hammer's confidence, and he spots Billy, alone at the end of the bar, and saunters over.
Instantly Billy knows his identity has not been revealed, which is surprising, but the glaze of Hammer's eyes implies that his thoughts are elsewhere.
"Evening," Hammer says, friendly. Billy can make out the arrogant arch to his voice, but it's not supposed to be condescending, it's just a greeting, and while Hammer is looking down on him with an air of indulgence it's not so much his intention as his overall manner. Any negativity is accidental.
Billy's stomach churns, fear, hate and guilt all threatening to come out at once.
"Evening," he replies, throat tight with disgust.
Hammer doesn't notice, of course. "Nice weather we've been having," he states, grinning.
How he goes about small talk is sad. The weather has been so awful it is painful, and Billy has been missing the sun terribly. He is, however, satisfied to see that Hammer's smile isn't half as wide as it used to be. It's forced. And upon closer examination Billy can see his shoulders shaking slightly and his fingers twitching nervously.
It suddenly occurs to Billy that Hammer is probably trying to pick him up. The thought almost makes him laugh, not because it's that funny, but because it's so absurd. Despite the fact that he has everything he ever wanted, his life doesn't seem to make any sort of sense.
"Horrible weather, actually," Billy answers and turns his face into the light.
Hammer gasps dramatically and steps back. "You!"
Billy rolls his eyes. "Me. Yes. Astute observation."
"Hiding in the dark, Doctor?" Hammer asks, voice filled with anger and, as Billy pleasantly notes, fear.
"Well, sit down and drink," Billy says for no particular reason except that maybe he's a complete masochist.
"Why?" Hammer asks in terror.
"Because I'm not speaking to you while sober."
The captain obeys after a moment of hesitation. The air between them is thick with questions, thoughts and feelings, all of them painful.
"You're the reason she's dead."
It doesn't matter who says it, it's the only thing on either of their minds.
"You're not sad because she's dead, everything you've been saying is all wrong, you're sad because you're deprived of her. It's selfish." Billy spits out the words with the intent of vengeance, hoping the burs will sink, deep into the depths of Hammer's guilt. It's a stupid thought, Hammer doesn't have guilt.
"Like you're any different," he slurs.
They glare at each other, the tension is suffocating and Billy can feel the anger thrumming under his skin, running through his veins, all he needs is a release.
It's too much, all of it is, and he slips off of his bar stool to flee into a nearby alleyway. He leans on one arm up against the brick wall, breathing heavily.
Hammer follows him.
"Don't just leave, you don't get to do that! You ruined me. You killed her."
"I didn't pull the trigger," Billy responds, voice low with fury.
Hammer grabs his wrist and turns him around, pinning him to the cold concrete. Billy's eyes flash, but he's no match for Hammer's strength.
"That doesn't make a difference and you know it. You murdered the love of your life."
He squirms under the tight grip, but all of Hammer's body is pushed against him. He can hardly draw a breath, let alone get free.
"I know," Billy gasps, but it's only half true. Hammer doesn't give a shit about Penny, he doesn't give a shit about anything but himself, and Billy says so.
Then Hammer is kissing him, or more like grasping at his mouth, selfishly. But Hammer just takes and takes the way he always does, hands roaming and grabbing with little grace or finesse.
Billy is impossibly hard and so angry that it makes it difficult to think, but he fights back in the only way he can, by biting down on Hammer's bottom lip.
Hammer groans and pushes closer, and Billy finds himself scrambling for his bearings. As soon as his wrists are free he twines his fingers in Hammer's hair, pulling him forcefully forward, their teeth clinking briefly together. They're messes, the both of them, scratching and bruising their way to arousal.
What little alcohol Billy has consumed swirls in his head, confusing events, and he can't comprehend how he got here.
All he knows is that this is the best he's felt in almost a year.
Twilight Crack fic
Writing on a Wall
Crake Kissing
Barbaric Love
And Matt and Mello Angry.
P.S. Warning: Dubcon, kind of.
Billy is the only one who recognizes him. It's dark, and most of the people in the bar are too focused on their drinks to notice much else. What little light there is only throws shadows about in a way that makes the haze of alcohol even more difficult to see through.
Billy purses his lips grimly as Hammer orders a drink, watching the muscles on his face move from tense to tenser, then relaxing altogether. The barkeep doesn't know who he is, and he's disappointed for a split second until he remembers his purpose. The Captain walks with his shoulders back, chin up, and his voice is commanding. Billy can tell that Hammer isn't used to anonymity.
He finishes his drink and bangs his glass on the bar with a resounding clank. Nobody notices, though, and despite the fact that Billy can't see it happening, he can almost feel Hammer's eyes move back and forth between patrons, widening in surprise when no gazes turn to fix on him.
This just bolsters Hammer's confidence, and he spots Billy, alone at the end of the bar, and saunters over.
Instantly Billy knows his identity has not been revealed, which is surprising, but the glaze of Hammer's eyes implies that his thoughts are elsewhere.
"Evening," Hammer says, friendly. Billy can make out the arrogant arch to his voice, but it's not supposed to be condescending, it's just a greeting, and while Hammer is looking down on him with an air of indulgence it's not so much his intention as his overall manner. Any negativity is accidental.
Billy's stomach churns, fear, hate and guilt all threatening to come out at once.
"Evening," he replies, throat tight with disgust.
Hammer doesn't notice, of course. "Nice weather we've been having," he states, grinning.
How he goes about small talk is sad. The weather has been so awful it is painful, and Billy has been missing the sun terribly. He is, however, satisfied to see that Hammer's smile isn't half as wide as it used to be. It's forced. And upon closer examination Billy can see his shoulders shaking slightly and his fingers twitching nervously.
It suddenly occurs to Billy that Hammer is probably trying to pick him up. The thought almost makes him laugh, not because it's that funny, but because it's so absurd. Despite the fact that he has everything he ever wanted, his life doesn't seem to make any sort of sense.
"Horrible weather, actually," Billy answers and turns his face into the light.
Hammer gasps dramatically and steps back. "You!"
Billy rolls his eyes. "Me. Yes. Astute observation."
"Hiding in the dark, Doctor?" Hammer asks, voice filled with anger and, as Billy pleasantly notes, fear.
"Well, sit down and drink," Billy says for no particular reason except that maybe he's a complete masochist.
"Why?" Hammer asks in terror.
"Because I'm not speaking to you while sober."
The captain obeys after a moment of hesitation. The air between them is thick with questions, thoughts and feelings, all of them painful.
"You're the reason she's dead."
It doesn't matter who says it, it's the only thing on either of their minds.
"You're not sad because she's dead, everything you've been saying is all wrong, you're sad because you're deprived of her. It's selfish." Billy spits out the words with the intent of vengeance, hoping the burs will sink, deep into the depths of Hammer's guilt. It's a stupid thought, Hammer doesn't have guilt.
"Like you're any different," he slurs.
They glare at each other, the tension is suffocating and Billy can feel the anger thrumming under his skin, running through his veins, all he needs is a release.
It's too much, all of it is, and he slips off of his bar stool to flee into a nearby alleyway. He leans on one arm up against the brick wall, breathing heavily.
Hammer follows him.
"Don't just leave, you don't get to do that! You ruined me. You killed her."
"I didn't pull the trigger," Billy responds, voice low with fury.
Hammer grabs his wrist and turns him around, pinning him to the cold concrete. Billy's eyes flash, but he's no match for Hammer's strength.
"That doesn't make a difference and you know it. You murdered the love of your life."
He squirms under the tight grip, but all of Hammer's body is pushed against him. He can hardly draw a breath, let alone get free.
"I know," Billy gasps, but it's only half true. Hammer doesn't give a shit about Penny, he doesn't give a shit about anything but himself, and Billy says so.
Then Hammer is kissing him, or more like grasping at his mouth, selfishly. But Hammer just takes and takes the way he always does, hands roaming and grabbing with little grace or finesse.
Billy is impossibly hard and so angry that it makes it difficult to think, but he fights back in the only way he can, by biting down on Hammer's bottom lip.
Hammer groans and pushes closer, and Billy finds himself scrambling for his bearings. As soon as his wrists are free he twines his fingers in Hammer's hair, pulling him forcefully forward, their teeth clinking briefly together. They're messes, the both of them, scratching and bruising their way to arousal.
What little alcohol Billy has consumed swirls in his head, confusing events, and he can't comprehend how he got here.
All he knows is that this is the best he's felt in almost a year.
Twilight Crack fic
Writing on a Wall
Crake Kissing
Barbaric Love
And Matt and Mello Angry.