(A)Typical Night In, for cinaed (Dresden Files (book'verse), PG-13)
Title: (A)Typical Night In
Author: amaresu
Recipient: cinaed
Fandom: Dresden Files (book'verse)
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Minor mentions of Dead Beat and Thomas' career choice.
Summary: Thomas and Butters, stuck together at the end of the world.
A/N: Thanks to dkphoenix for the last minute beta. You are awesome.
The ash was still coming down heavily as Thomas pushed open the door to his brother's apartment. It was piling up on the stairs again, although it looked like Butters had made an attempt to clear them off while he was gone. Once he made sure the door was firmly closed and the wards up Thomas set about shaking the ash off of himself. Going outside hadn't been fun in weeks, but it was necessary for food and fresh water.
“The place cleaned itself again when I was clearing off the steps.” Butters called out from the kitchen. From the smell of it he was making some chicken noodle soup.
“I told you, it's magic.” Thomas grimaced as he finished getting his outerwear off. He'd long since figured out about Harry's magical cleaning service. Picking up the bags he left by the door he walked to the kitchen.
Butters left the stove to help him unpack. “It's creepy.”
“If you keep asking about it, it'll stop.” Thomas couldn't tell Butters about the brownies, just like Harry couldn't tell him, but hopefully he'd stop asking at some point. “I found some bread. It's frozen, but it's bread.”
The rest of the unpacking went quietly. After spending three weeks shut inside Harry's small apartment together there wasn't much left to say. Dinner followed in much the same pattern before Butters suddenly seemed to remember something, “I got the radio to work for a little bit while you were gone. The magical self-cleaning apartment made me forget. They say the ash is starting to settle.”
That surprised him, but maybe the White Council's mad plan was actually working. Not that they knew much about it, just what Harry had told them before dashing off into the Nevernever. “Really? It's only been a few weeks. I thought it was supposed to take years.”
“It is. The last time a supervolcano erupted it took years for everything to settle.” Butters put his spoon down and looked across to Thomas. For the first time in years Thomas thought of the way Butters had been when they first met, scared and overwhelmed and just wanting someone to tell him everything was going to be fine. “Do you think they're doing it? Harry and the other wizards?”
Rather than reply, Thomas just nodded. He didn't know what stopping the ash was costing the White Council, or what they had to do, but he did know if Harry could he'd have sent them a message. At least to find out if they'd heard anything about Murphy. “This will be over soon and everything will go back to normal. You'll cut corpses and I'll cut hair.”
It was a weak joke, but Butters laughed, so Thomas considered it a success. Dinner finished like it started, in silence, but a comfortable one. Butters lost his scared look and actually managed to appear happy for a change. It was Thomas' job to clean the dishes and then clear off the steps again, which left Butters to indulge himself in polka for a bit. They'd fought over that one, but in the end he hadn't been able to deny Butters the right to something that so obviously gave him comfort. It was the end of the world, after all.
It was while he was clearing off the steps that he came to a horrifying realization. He'd left the door open for light and so could hear the noise of Butters' suit clearly, the sounds of the accordion and drum drifting out the door. The piece was one of Butter's favorites, and Thomas had heard it what seemed like a million times over the last three weeks. But, as he was scooping up another shovel of ash he realized he was humming along. That would have been shocking enough, but the fact that he was clearly enjoying the music as well was almost enough for him to close the door and try to work without light. The only reason he didn't was because there was no way he'd be able to clear the steps without killing himself.
Once done with his task he quietly went back inside and sat down on the couch. Rather than grabbing a book and pretending to read, Thomas let himself just listen to the polka. Maybe Harry had been right all those years ago, polka never dies. It was only when the music stopped that he opened his eyes and looked at Butters. The man was trying not to stare, and failing miserably. “I've been stuck in here with you for too long.”
Butters ignored the comment and continued to remove the polka suit. Thomas hadn't expected much of a reaction, not a day went by without one of them saying something along those lines. Clearing his throat he clarified, for Butters benefit, “I find myself growing an appreciation for polka.”
That statement caused Butters to freeze and then look over at him in astonishment. Honestly, Thomas couldn't think of anything else he could say that would've caused Butters to look at him in quite that manner. Their arguments about polka had been long and loud. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I'm fine.” He was fine, just falling to cabin fever. Clearly. “I've just had an epiphany about polka. It's not that bad. Catchy even.”
“Catchy.” Butters looked worried. That was never a good sign. He'd start fussing any minute now. And sure enough, he was over at the couch as quickly as possible and checking Thomas' temperature and vitals. “Have you been eating enough?”
Now it was Thomas' turn to freeze. The arrangement regarding his feeding had been a delicate one. “I'm fine. I gave you a scalp massage this morning.”
Butters pressed his lips together and peered at him. “That's enough?”
It wasn't enough. It was barely enough to keep him from starving. There was only so much massages could do, especially if they're all for the same person, but he wasn't going to ask Butters for anything more. Even if Butters had been willing in the past. It had been awkward as hell the next morning and Thomas did not want to go through that again. “I'm fine.”
“No, you're not.” Butters looked at him again and then sighed before walking towards the bedroom and pulling his shirt off. “Come on then.”
“No.” He actually liked Butters and he didn't really want to feed on him this way. They had the tentative beginnings of a friendship started and he didn't want this to ruin that.
Butters looked at him from the door and shook his head. “Look, last time was weird. It wasn't how I'd pictured my first time with a guy being. Hell, I'd never pictured a first time with a guy, but, you're my friend, Thomas. I don't want to see you suffering like this if I can do something to stop it. The massages don't give you enough, I know that. I'd rather do this when I have to then watch you try and pretend you're not starving to death in front of me.”
Nodding his head Thomas stood up and walked towards the bedroom. Meeting Butters at the door he muttered a quick “thank you” before leaning down to kiss him.
Author: amaresu
Recipient: cinaed
Fandom: Dresden Files (book'verse)
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Minor mentions of Dead Beat and Thomas' career choice.
Summary: Thomas and Butters, stuck together at the end of the world.
A/N: Thanks to dkphoenix for the last minute beta. You are awesome.
The ash was still coming down heavily as Thomas pushed open the door to his brother's apartment. It was piling up on the stairs again, although it looked like Butters had made an attempt to clear them off while he was gone. Once he made sure the door was firmly closed and the wards up Thomas set about shaking the ash off of himself. Going outside hadn't been fun in weeks, but it was necessary for food and fresh water.
“The place cleaned itself again when I was clearing off the steps.” Butters called out from the kitchen. From the smell of it he was making some chicken noodle soup.
“I told you, it's magic.” Thomas grimaced as he finished getting his outerwear off. He'd long since figured out about Harry's magical cleaning service. Picking up the bags he left by the door he walked to the kitchen.
Butters left the stove to help him unpack. “It's creepy.”
“If you keep asking about it, it'll stop.” Thomas couldn't tell Butters about the brownies, just like Harry couldn't tell him, but hopefully he'd stop asking at some point. “I found some bread. It's frozen, but it's bread.”
The rest of the unpacking went quietly. After spending three weeks shut inside Harry's small apartment together there wasn't much left to say. Dinner followed in much the same pattern before Butters suddenly seemed to remember something, “I got the radio to work for a little bit while you were gone. The magical self-cleaning apartment made me forget. They say the ash is starting to settle.”
That surprised him, but maybe the White Council's mad plan was actually working. Not that they knew much about it, just what Harry had told them before dashing off into the Nevernever. “Really? It's only been a few weeks. I thought it was supposed to take years.”
“It is. The last time a supervolcano erupted it took years for everything to settle.” Butters put his spoon down and looked across to Thomas. For the first time in years Thomas thought of the way Butters had been when they first met, scared and overwhelmed and just wanting someone to tell him everything was going to be fine. “Do you think they're doing it? Harry and the other wizards?”
Rather than reply, Thomas just nodded. He didn't know what stopping the ash was costing the White Council, or what they had to do, but he did know if Harry could he'd have sent them a message. At least to find out if they'd heard anything about Murphy. “This will be over soon and everything will go back to normal. You'll cut corpses and I'll cut hair.”
It was a weak joke, but Butters laughed, so Thomas considered it a success. Dinner finished like it started, in silence, but a comfortable one. Butters lost his scared look and actually managed to appear happy for a change. It was Thomas' job to clean the dishes and then clear off the steps again, which left Butters to indulge himself in polka for a bit. They'd fought over that one, but in the end he hadn't been able to deny Butters the right to something that so obviously gave him comfort. It was the end of the world, after all.
It was while he was clearing off the steps that he came to a horrifying realization. He'd left the door open for light and so could hear the noise of Butters' suit clearly, the sounds of the accordion and drum drifting out the door. The piece was one of Butter's favorites, and Thomas had heard it what seemed like a million times over the last three weeks. But, as he was scooping up another shovel of ash he realized he was humming along. That would have been shocking enough, but the fact that he was clearly enjoying the music as well was almost enough for him to close the door and try to work without light. The only reason he didn't was because there was no way he'd be able to clear the steps without killing himself.
Once done with his task he quietly went back inside and sat down on the couch. Rather than grabbing a book and pretending to read, Thomas let himself just listen to the polka. Maybe Harry had been right all those years ago, polka never dies. It was only when the music stopped that he opened his eyes and looked at Butters. The man was trying not to stare, and failing miserably. “I've been stuck in here with you for too long.”
Butters ignored the comment and continued to remove the polka suit. Thomas hadn't expected much of a reaction, not a day went by without one of them saying something along those lines. Clearing his throat he clarified, for Butters benefit, “I find myself growing an appreciation for polka.”
That statement caused Butters to freeze and then look over at him in astonishment. Honestly, Thomas couldn't think of anything else he could say that would've caused Butters to look at him in quite that manner. Their arguments about polka had been long and loud. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I'm fine.” He was fine, just falling to cabin fever. Clearly. “I've just had an epiphany about polka. It's not that bad. Catchy even.”
“Catchy.” Butters looked worried. That was never a good sign. He'd start fussing any minute now. And sure enough, he was over at the couch as quickly as possible and checking Thomas' temperature and vitals. “Have you been eating enough?”
Now it was Thomas' turn to freeze. The arrangement regarding his feeding had been a delicate one. “I'm fine. I gave you a scalp massage this morning.”
Butters pressed his lips together and peered at him. “That's enough?”
It wasn't enough. It was barely enough to keep him from starving. There was only so much massages could do, especially if they're all for the same person, but he wasn't going to ask Butters for anything more. Even if Butters had been willing in the past. It had been awkward as hell the next morning and Thomas did not want to go through that again. “I'm fine.”
“No, you're not.” Butters looked at him again and then sighed before walking towards the bedroom and pulling his shirt off. “Come on then.”
“No.” He actually liked Butters and he didn't really want to feed on him this way. They had the tentative beginnings of a friendship started and he didn't want this to ruin that.
Butters looked at him from the door and shook his head. “Look, last time was weird. It wasn't how I'd pictured my first time with a guy being. Hell, I'd never pictured a first time with a guy, but, you're my friend, Thomas. I don't want to see you suffering like this if I can do something to stop it. The massages don't give you enough, I know that. I'd rather do this when I have to then watch you try and pretend you're not starving to death in front of me.”
Nodding his head Thomas stood up and walked towards the bedroom. Meeting Butters at the door he muttered a quick “thank you” before leaning down to kiss him.