Fic | whatever's living will yourself become
Title: whatever's living will yourself become
Author: attilatehbun
Pairing: Billy Kaplan/Teddy Altman
Rating: R/NC-17
Word Count: ~8000
Contains: Language, frottage, underage drinking-age
Summary: The trouble with shape-shifting is that so often the shape seems to shift more than you do. It changes day to day, moment to moment, and every time you shift to fit it you're one step behind.
Author's Notes: I can't even begin to describe the stupid convoluted route this took kicking my ass from what it started as to where it is now, so all I'm going to say is: Goddammit, Teddy. Huge thanks to dytabytes and mrssnape_1414 for helping me limp through the early stages, and to butterfly_kate for pulling me through the rest of the way. <3 to the flist in general, for putting up with my moronic flailing. Mistakes are mine, please point them out, all that jazz.
~*~
He doesn't remember a time when he hasn't been able to see it. Not counting, of course, his life prior to the age of about five, during which his strongest and earliest memory is watching Sesame Street while putting on his socks, and that's not really relevant to the matter at hand. Though, maybe it is, in a small way. His younger self saw his mother changing out of her comfortable house jeans and into something cleaner, prettier, nicer, saw her gathering her purse and dropping her keys inside, and he knew. They were going out. So he put on his socks and shoes without being asked, seeing the shape of the moment and changing himself to be ready, changing himself to fit.
His powers. Getting his powers, discovering his powers. Whatever. It made the physical easier. He wasn't limited anymore to just the small shifts, subtle, the ordinary things that everyone has to do. Yeah, sure, the new opportunities make it more complicated too, because he has so many new ways to adapt. So many new areas he's not sure if he wants to examine. But physical change and response is instinctive, and he can almost tell himself that the surface ease is enough. It's enough.
And Teddy can't deny that it smooths things, and he isn't sure of another way to be. If he even has an alternative. Observation and change is what he is.
~*~
The trouble with shape-shifting is that so often the shape seems to shift more than you do. It changes day to day, moment to moment, and every time you shift to fit it you're one step behind.
Because no matter how sure you are, there's always some doubt, and you can't adapt to fit the shape if you don't know what it is.
~*~
Teddy waits for Billy outside of his school. He had a half-day and is eager to grab Billy and get the weekend started. They have practice later, but Teddy likes finding Billy first, showing up together. Plus, practice is draining, and he wants to get some food in his system that isn't rancid cafeteria slop before running around like a maniac. All the shape-shifting wreaks hell on his metabolism.
The bell rings, and Teddy stands up a little taller, and absolutely does not smooth the wrinkles from his shirt or fluff up his hair a little. Billy isn't among the first students out the door, and when he does come out, Teddy almost misses him. The lightning Teddy is so used to seeing fill Billy, even when it isn't shooting out of his fingertips, is oddly absent. He looks almost smaller, and when he pushes past the other kids already hanging around the steps several of them shoot him nasty looks. Teddy thinks he hears one of them say something that Billy ignores, and he's taken an angry step towards them before he even realizes he's done it. But then Billy spots him and the lightning's back, brightening his eyes and causing his face to split into a grin.
"Teddy!" he says. "What's up? What are you doing here?"
Teddy glares at the assholes on the step over Billy's shoulder before smiling back at Billy. "I got off early today, and I was wondering if you wanted to grab some food before practice?"
Billy sighs with his whole body before starting off down the street. "That sounds great. I skipped lunch. Cafeteria slop is just not appetizing."
Teddy smiles to himself at the choice of words. Billy sees it and says, "What's funny?"
Teddy shakes his head. "No, nothing," he says. Billy stares at him oddly for another minute, but ultimately shrugs it off. Teddy glances back over his shoulder, then looks at Billy, something huge and hot blooming in his chest, spreading outward. Something that makes him want to Hulk-out and step between Billy and the assholes of the world. Something that makes him want to shout and rage and hide his face in his hands. He looks at Billy and starts again. "Hey, Billy? What was that back there?"
"What was what?" says Billy, puzzled.
"That, back there." Teddy gestures with his head in the direction of the school. "Those guys, harassing you?"
Billy readjusts the straps of his backpack and rolls his eyes. "They weren't harassing me. They were just being dicks."
Teddy bumps Billy with his shoulder. "Okay then, 'those guys being dicks,' what was that about?" he says.
Billy flushes almost imperceptibly, but Teddy's kinda paying attention, so he bumps Billy again and says, "Billy?"
"It's nothing," Billy says.
Teddy chews his lip. He doesn't want to-- but it really didn't look like nothing. "It didn't look like nothing."
Billy glances at him sharply and Teddy backtracks. "I'm not pushing," he says quickly.
Billy sighs. "No, it's alright, Teddy," he says. "It's nothing because, well, it's just high school? It's not important, especially not, you know, now." He waves his arm vaguely, summing up in one broad gesture the entirety of the superhero experience, as if it were that simple. "Those guys, they're just stuck in a bad teen movie circa 1980. The whole "nerdy, weird guy versus the jock squad" sub-plot. You must know about that."
"I--" Teddy starts, but can't finish. He thinks about Greg, about the guys Greg hassled, the guys Teddy would have been if he hadn't been lucky enough to be born with powers. The guys Teddy didn't stand up for as often as he should have. He blinks and swallows the rest of his words. He thinks about Billy, if Billy had been at his school, and the huge, hot feeling is back in his chest.
"Teddy. Teddy." Billy waves a hand in front of his face. "Where'd you just go?"
"No, I, uh. It's just. I'm sorry for that," he says.
Billy raises an eyebrow. "Oooookay. But, uh, Teddy? That wasn't you."
Teddy feels the blush rising but can't stop it. "But. It could have been. I-- I used to--"
Billy cuts him off. "You're not like that," he says.
"I nearly was--" Teddy starts.
This time Billy grabs his arm and stops him in his tracks. "But you're not. And you never have been," he says. "Not to me."
"Billy--"
"Teddy."
Teddy mumbles, "I just wish you didn't have to--" he gestures vaguely. "All that."
"I know," Billy says. "And thanks. But you don't-- you know."
Teddy tucks his head back into his shoulders. Billy turns into him, and there's an expression on his face that Teddy has no frame of reference for. He almost thinks there might be something there, below the surface, something he could use, something to turn the shape of this to what he wants. He can slide his hand up Billy's neck, so easily, tangle his fingers in his hair like it was nothing. He could lean and press, let the shape be his tongue in Billy's mouth and Billy's hands, touching him, opening him up.
But if he's wrong. Teddy isn't sure enough of this, the cue isn't strong enough for him to know whether he can be. So he shifts to safety, a joke about how if those assholes keep it up, Billy could just, like, zap them or something. Or turn them into frogs.
Billy laughs and says, "That would be cruel to the frog community at large."
Teddy snorts. "C'mon, man," he says. "Food. I'm dying."
Billy's face goes funny again, there's an odd quirk of his lips, but it's displaced by a wide smirk and a nod. "Agreed," he says.
~*~
Billy wears stupid t-shirts. He wears stupid t-shirts, and he bites his nails, down to the quick, practically bloody, and he runs at the mouth, but he smiles a lot, in an honest way, and when he learns what Teddy's powers are, he looks really thoughtful and says, "That must be, I don't know, tough."
Teddy blinks, and opens his mouth to ask what Billy means, but before he can speak, Iron Lad - or rather, Nathaniel - claps his hands together and says, "So, um, I guess we're all here now," so Teddy shifts back to Team Mode. It's new, different from what he used to think of as Team Mode, but he likes it, so he pays attention and resolves to see if he can't pull Billy aside later to find out what he meant by that.
~*~
The trouble with shape-shifting is that you don't always get the chances you want. You rely on the external to form the internal and the external is uncontrollable.
You are all reaction, but you just can't react to what isn't there.
~*~
They are on a mission. Okay, so it's a low key kind of mission, but a mission nonetheless. Billy has been making noises about marathoning all three Lord of the Rings movies and today Teddy has finally given in. Billy hasn't said whether he wants to watch the extended versions or the originals, but either way they're in for at least nine hours of movies, and they will need snacks. So they're off to a nearby bodega in search of chips, several gallons of soda, maybe a couple of microwave burritos, and even some pizza rolls if they're feeling particularly adventurous.
The day is gorgeous, the sun shining hard and bright and not quite warming the air enough to be unpleasant. It's a rare Saturday that they aren't spending in training with Eli and Nate, and a part of Teddy would really like to spend the day outside, not necessarily even doing anything, just sitting around and soaking up the day. But the far larger part of him wants to spend the day with Billy, and doesn't really care what he does once that little detail has been taken care of.
So Teddy simply slows his steps to drag out the walk and listens to Billy deliver what is nearly a dissertation on the things Peter Jackson did or did not Get Right. Billy likes to talk and Teddy likes to listen, and the words aren't even that important, just that sort of hum Billy gets in his voice when he gets excited. This shape is comfortable and easy, and Teddy doesn't regret forgoing the sun for it, not when he can walk a bit closer to Billy than is probably standard and let their shoulders bump affably. Even better that Billy doesn't flinch away whenever that happens.
At the bodega, they load up on chips and dips, both of them suggesting progressively weirder and weirder combinations in an attempt to gross the other out. In addition to the sodas, they splurge on a slushy drink in a kind of frightening shade of radioactive green to split on the way home. When they're out of the bodega, Teddy leans into Billy and jokes, "Think I should go for that color, or is it too much?"
Billy pops off the lid and pretends to seriously contemplate the question. "Definitely too much, Ted. All wrong for your eyes."
Try as he might, Teddy can't quite keep a straight face, and Billy gives him a playful sock in the shoulder.
They are nearly to Billy's when they pass an alley and hear a choked-off scream. They turn as one; in the alley there's a kid, can't be much older than they are, holding a gun on a tiny - a terrified and tiny - old woman. She's clutching her purse to her chest and the kid does not look happy about it. He's twitching a little bit and gesturing with the gun. Teddy doesn't even look at Billy; he knows he's right there with him.
It's so quick they don't even think to use their powers. Billy rushes in, grabs the old woman and pulls her to safety while Teddy swings his bag of 2-liters at the kid's gun hand and punches him, hard, in the jaw. The would-be mugger drops like a sack of bricks.
The old woman is shaken, but okay, now, with Billy's comforting arm around her shoulders and Teddy blushing and looking at his feet under her praise. They offer to walk her home, or at least wait with her until she's sure she's fine, but she snorts and fusses and insists she's seen far worse in her day. She calls them such nice young men, tells them she doesn't want to mess up their afternoon, and says that all she wants is to go home and call someone named "Vera" and tell her all about the excitement.
Teddy catches Billy's eyes over her head as she rummages in the bottom of her purse and has to swallow the shape of a giggle.
Before she leaves she presses something into each of their hands, ignoring their stammering protests. She says, "Thank you, dears," and totters off out of the alley and back into the sunshine. The "something" turns out to be a wrapped hard candy, ancient, slightly sticky, and partially unwrapped from the movement of her purse. Teddy stares at it for a moment, nonplussed.
Teddy hears a choking sound from Billy's direction and looks up at him. He's bright red and looks like he's having trouble breathing, and Teddy says, "Billy, you didn't actually try to eat the candy, did you?"
But then Billy throws his head back and lets out a ridiculous - and there's no other word for it - guffaw.
"Did you see?" he chokes out. "And we-- I can't believe we just did that, that was excellent!"
The adrenaline hits Teddy in rush. His knees are a little shaky, but he's laughing now too, so he hunches over and sort of leans against the wall to keep from falling. Soon he's wiping tears from his eyes and giving little, hiccup-y breaths, but he feels good, he feels so good, because they did good and yeah, everything turned out alright.
Billy is laughing like a maniac, looking none too steady his own self. He punches the air a bit too vigorously and overbalances. Teddy moves to catch him; his arms go around Billy's waist, easy, natural, as Billy thuds into him, still laughing. Billy's arms wrap around Teddy as if they belong there, for a second they're hugging, then Teddy's laughter dries up and catches in his throat. Billy coughs and straightens up and he's not laughing anymore either.
Billy's fingers clutch reflexively at the back of Teddy's sweatshirt and the hesitation and - is that? oh please, is that hope? - taking shape in his face is like looking in a mirror. Teddy licks his lips, and Billy makes a soft noise, kind of an "Oh" mixed with a groan, in the back of his throat.
Teddy doesn't even need to dip his head; he just leans forward, closes his eyes, and he's kissing Billy and Billy is unbelievably kissing him back. He tightens his arms and leans back against the wall, and when Billy pulls back for breath, rolls his eyes, and says, "Finally," what is Teddy to do but kiss him again?
But it's just a fabrication, a hope for an opportunity to shift. There's no old woman, no unconscious mugger not ten feet to the side of them, and Teddy knows that's good, because why would he wish that on anyone, just to concoct a chance? It would be too-too...convenient, and if there's one thing Teddy's learned it's that life doesn't work that way. He might want, that doesn't mean it will be.
So on that day when Teddy wishes for a chance to shift, nothing happens. Billy slurps up most of the slushy thing and chatters and chatters and chatters, while Teddy walks beside him and doesn't try to change the shape of anything.
~*~
It is really hot. Teddy's mom wouldn't let him leave unless he put on a nice shirt, but he's regretting the long sleeves right now, as it's about a million degrees in the gym. Also, the teachers wouldn't let him bring in his soda, so he had to chug it all outside, in one long swallow, and now he has to pee.
But first, there's a new shape he has to figure out how to be.
Mike is giving him a significant look. Or rather, is giving him several short significant looks, because he keeps looking over at Mary Anne in between. Mike apparently likes Mary Anne, like, likes her likes her, and if the blushing glances she's giving him are any indication, the feeling's mutual. That's easy. There's nothing Teddy needs to do there.
Except that Mary Anne is currently clinging to her friend, who's clinging just as nervously back, and the DJ just put on a really stupid song, and Mike's giving him significant looks. Clearly, Teddy is supposed to ask Mary Anne's friend to dance, so that Mary Anne can dance with Mike without feeling guilty.
Teddy feels outnumbered.
But he can see that Mike really wants this, and Teddy gets the general impression that this is the point of these stupid dances. The shape he's supposed to take is wanting to dance with these girls. Or at the very least, helping out his friends. So Teddy pushes it all back and smiles at Mary Anne's friend. Mike grins and leads Mary Anne onto the dance floor.
The friend looks awkwardly up at Teddy. She's got curly black hair, and tons of freckles all over her face, and braces with blue elastics, and Teddy assumes she's pretty, as far as these things go. She's in his social studies class, and he's grateful at least for that, because it provides him with at least one piece of information about her: Her name is Genny, with a G - not short for Jennifer but for something else, something more unusual - and she likes to outline the countries on her world maps in blue colored pencil.
This does not strike Teddy as anything that might help him here.
He reaches out stiffly and rests his hands on her waist, feather-light. Genny-with-a-G smiles nervously and raises her hands to his shoulders, just as stiffly, and they begin to sway in rough time with the song. Neither of them look at each other; the gym walls and floor are suddenly way more interesting than Teddy has ever noticed before. They only look at each other's faces when their eyes accidentally catch alternating walls to stare at.
Her palms are hot and a little bit sweaty through the material of his shirt.
Teddy really has to pee.
He looks around again and sees Mike and Mary Anne nearby. They're swaying just as awkwardly as Teddy and Genny, but Mike's holding Mary Anne a lot closer, and when he catches Teddy's eye through the cloud of her hair, he flashes Teddy a huge grin and a thumbs up. Teddy tries to grin back.
The urge to pee is getting overwhelming, and the song is apparently the longest song in the universe.
Teddy wonders if he should start a conversation with Genny-with-a-G, but he can't think of anything beyond, "So you really like blue, huh?" Besides, another quick glance around the room shows that not a single one of the other scattered couples is having anything remotely like a conversation. A few of them are making out, grossly, sloppily, and Teddy has absolutely no intention of taking that shape. He looks back at Genny, who quickly drops her eyes to her feet and blushes as red as a tomato, under the freckles.
Teddy looks back to the bleachers, wishing he was still sitting there, and doesn't look around again until the song mercifully ends. Genny drops her arms and flees back to Mary Anne, and they immediately cling to each other and start whispering. Teddy follows a moment later, because Mike is still standing by Mary Anne's side, awkwardly shuffling his feet. When he sees Teddy he grabs him and pulls him aside.
"Thanks, Teddy, really," he says.
Teddy shrugs. "No problem. I guess it went okay, then?" he says.
"Yeah, yeah, it was great," Mike says, looking over at Mary Anne, who blushes and turns back to Genny-with-a-G, giggling. After a moment, Mike remembers that he's having a conversation. "Oh, yeah, uh, how was it for you?"
"It was fine, I guess," Teddy says.
"Cool. Cool. So, um, you'll dance with her again, maybe?" Mike looks at Teddy, nervous but hopeful.
Teddy bites the inside of his cheek. "Yeah, sure, whatever," he says.
"Excellent," Mike says, eyes already drifting back over to Mary Anne.
Teddy takes advantage of the moment to escape, finally, to the bathroom.
~*~
The trouble with shape-shifting is that there's a difference between shifting to fit a shape you see that you need and projecting the shape you want to be. And though sometimes those lines blur, they never blur enough.
Because you always know when what you see is just you.
~*~
Eli insisted, and Nate couldn't come up with a suitable opposition, so they are all now doing patrols. Not regularly, and not always in costume, partially because not all of them even have full costumes yet, but still. Patrols. For real patrols. Which means very late nights and difficult, blurry days. Teddy is appreciative of the practice, glad that they won't be going in against Kang cold if and when he ever shows up, but he really really misses sleep. He knows it comes with the territory, but it is hard, sneaking in at four AM and crashing for a few hours before getting up to face the day. Face school, which seems so irrelevant to his life right now that it's almost as if it's happening off page. He's fallen half-asleep in class a few times already, and it's only the fact that his teachers think he's generally a good boy that they haven't yet written home.
(Or at least, he thinks they haven't. His mom surely would have said something. Maybe he should check?)
He doesn't really care about school, and while it's harder to focus with the team on next to no sleep, he can cope. But there's Billy. Billy has been coming over a lot more, after practice, after school. Teddy is trying very hard not to let that get to him; they're friends and hanging out is something that friends do, so if his heart starts beating a bit faster when Billy shows up at his door, well, it probably means he just drank a little too much coffee trying to stay awake. Yeah.
The problem is, the lack of sleep is starting to get to Billy too. More than once one or both of them have nodded off while hanging out, usually while watching movies or bad television, though there was one time Billy actually fell asleep mid-sentence. Which is precisely the problem, really. Billy falls asleep. Billy falls asleep, sometimes, falls sideways into Teddy, and just naps, lying there, his head on Teddy's shoulder, and it takes every ounce of willpower Teddy possesses not to sling an arm around him and fall asleep too.
Teddy was prepared for hearing Billy's laugh. He was prepared to see Billy's smile, to see him floating on lightning or biting his lip as he concentrates. Teddy could cope with it, to be there for all of these things and never touch him. But he was not prepared for this. He was not prepared to see Billy's slender wrists tucked into his chest or the line of Billy's jaw, relaxed, half-open in sleep. He was not prepared for the soft sounds of his breath.
Teddy has no idea how to cope with Billy being asleep in his bed.
Billy's curled up, half-hugging Teddy's pillow and letting out gentle snores. He rubs his feet together and slides, his shirt pulling up just enough to expose a glimpse of dark hair beneath his belly button, and Teddy has to clench his teeth together, desperately trying to find a way to shift this situation out of fantasy territory and back into the safe-if-uncomfortable ground of two guys trying to watch a movie on a computer screen where there are no shenanigans whatsoever.
But he can't, because Billy shifts again on the sheets, rolling onto his back and mumbling a sleepy "Mmmwzzgoinon?" as his eyes flutter open and Teddy is already on the bed and moving. Billy narrows his eyes and says, "Teddy?" as Teddy leans down.
He touches his lips to Billy's, soft, hesitant, expecting to be hit or shoved off at any moment. But Billy slides under him, opening his mouth and leaning up into the kiss. His hands find Teddy's shoulder blades and press, and the nervous buzzing in the back of Teddy's brain bursts. It's all the encouragement he needs for the shape to become clear and he lets his weight settle against Billy's chest, his mouth opening, his tongue demanding.
Billy doesn't seem to mind. He moves again, sliding one thigh between Teddy's legs and arching up. His hands find their way into Teddy's hair and tug, not enough to pull Teddy off, just enough to feel really fucking good, the pleasure of it singing through Teddy's nerves and going straight to his cock. Teddy's hips roll forward independent of his brain, and before he even has the chance to think that he should pull back or apologize Billy bites down on his lip and rocks his own hips up. Teddy rocks his hips again, on purpose this time, because Billy's reaction was amazing, and when their hips meet he feels Billy's cock, hard and wanting, grinding into his. The feel of it makes something short out in Teddy's brain, and he has to break away from Billy's mouth to gasp into his shoulder.
Billy bites at Teddy's ear and takes advantage of his momentary distraction to roll them both over. He props himself up on his hands and before Teddy can even catch his breath, Billy's mouth has found his and Teddy can't do anything but meet his lips again and again. Their hips grind against each other and Billy rears back, squeezing his eyes shut and hissing. Teddy has to groan, the roughness of his voice surprising even him. He slides his hands to grip Billy's hips, and he rocks up again because, so hot. Billy lets out a low fuuuck and attacks Teddy, thrusting forward needy and immediate, kissing Teddy with almost bruising force. Teddy meets Billy's tongue and slides his hands under his shirt. He splays his fingers across Billy's stomach, feeling the muscles there flex and jump with each thrust of Billy's hips. He can feel the heat and weight of Billy's cock against his, even through both pairs of their jeans, and his skin feels flushed and way, way too small. Groaning into Billy's mouth, Teddy circles his hands around under Billy's shirt, one pressing into his back to keep him close, the other dipping into the back of his jeans and squeezing.
Billy stills and Teddy freezes, because maybe the shape was wrong after all. But Billy licks into Teddy's mouth again and adjusts his legs, moving to straddle Teddy's thighs. He sits back, pulling Teddy up with him, hips renewing their desperate rocking. He kisses Teddy's jaw, biting just a little, and damn if that doesn't make Teddy's cock harder and his hips grind upwards more insistently. Then Billy pulls back, tugging Teddy's shirt over his head. Teddy gets tangled, cursing, his arms too insistent on continuing to hold Billy in his lap, his lips still trying to find Billy's mouth. He struggles and twists as Billy bends down, mouth hot against Teddy's shoulder, collarbone, the plane of his chest, and oh-oh god. Teddy groans as Billy's mouth closes over his nipple, and dammit he still isn't free of his shirt. He's busted through countless shirts when he's Hulked-out, torn them apart like they were nothing, and when he actually wants to do it, he finds himself completely trapped.
Finally he pulls free, the force causing him to thump back hard onto the bed. Billy bites his lip and says, "Oh my god, are you okay?" before shaking his head with a "No, right, duh." He looks like he maybe wants to hit himself in the forehead, so Teddy just laughs and grabs him by the back of the neck to pull him down into another kiss. His hands move to Billy's shirt again, trying to maneuver it off him while still keeping his chest and hips pressed tight where Teddy wants them. Billy sits up once more, laughing and tugging his shirt off with an ease Teddy is really really envious of for about two seconds, but then Billy leans back down and they are skin to skin, Billy's chest sliding along Teddy's with a friction that is just completely beyond Teddy's ability to describe in words.
This time Teddy is the one to shift his legs, angling his knees so that Billy's narrow hips fall easily between them. Billy lets out a muffled curse against Teddy's neck as their hips rocks together, cocks sliding along each other, finally, at the perfect angle. Teddy searches out Billy's mouth again, mind rapidly moving beyond rational thought. Instinct is taking over for him, just the need for morenowfrictionharder. Billy seems to feel the same; his hands grabbing at Teddy almost anywhere he can, hips, shoulders, ribs, the underside of his thighs. Billy's thrusts are getting more irregular, more demanding, and Teddy digs his fingers into Billy's skin and meets him as best he can. He is panting hard, too hard to even kiss Billy properly anymore, so he breaks away and mouths wetly at Billy's neck as he thrusts helplessly up into Billy's hips. He fumbles his hands down the back of Billy's jeans and this time he doesn't even slow down, he thrusts even harder, biting down on Teddy's shoulder.
Billy lets out a sharp cry, choked-sounding and shaky, and his hips jerk against Teddy's and hold. Teddy holds Billy tight, gasping at the feel of Billy shuddering against him. He kisses at Billy's ear, his cheek, trying to find his mouth as he shakes. And then things shift on Teddy again.
One moment, he is in sweet friction and too small skin and needneedneed, and the next his balls are tightening and he is holding Billy hard against him and trying desperately not to whimper as he comes. Billy props himself up on his hands for a moment, his face a mixture of surprise and pleasure, and then his lips find Teddy's in a loose, weary kiss. He touches Teddy's jaw almost reverently when he finally pulls back.
Teddy looks up at Billy, carding his fingers gently through his hair. He can't believe that he just totally came in his pants, and thinks maybe he should be embarrassed about that. But then he looks into Billy's face, flushed and satisfied, and it hits him that Billy just did too, because of him, and wow.
Billy leans his forehead against Teddy's and breathes, "Wow."
"Yeah," says Teddy.
Billy grins lazily. "So," he says, his voice a comfortable tease, "is there something you need to tell me, or?" and Teddy--
--Teddy shifts back to his computer and turns up the sound on the movie. Billy gives out another muffled snore and rolls onto his side, and Teddy does his best to ignore it. It makes it easier to just be.
~*~
The mug is badly chipped, and Teddy's not entirely sure it's as clean as he'd like. He sniffs its contents gingerly and the sharp stink of it has him pulling back with a grimace.
"Man, what the hell is this stuff?" He sniffs it again and tries not to gag.
"Not a fucking clue, dude," Greg says, and clinks the edge of his bottle against the mug. "Drink up." He drops onto the couch opposite Teddy and takes a swallow directly from the bottle.
Teddy throws a nervous glance at the door. "Aren't you worried about your mom, you know, catching us? Finding out yo-we stole her," he sniffs the cup again, "something."
Greg laughs bitterly. "You kidding? She never notices anything, even when she's not passed out. Which she completely is. I'll just add some water to it before she wakes up." He looks at the bottle. "It can only improve the taste."
Teddy raises his eyebrows, still unsure, and Greg's face shuts down. "Don't pussy out on me, Altman."
Teddy knows this is colossally stupid, but he also knows what he has to do, to stay here. And staying is where he wants to be, so. He squeezes his eyes shut and knocks back what's in the mug. He manages not to retch as the, apparently, whiskey burns a hot trail down his throat, but it's a near thing. "That's vile," he finally manages to cough out.
Greg reaches over and claps Teddy on the back. "You'll get used to it."
"God, I hope not," Teddy says, trying to ignore the feel of Greg's hand on his back. He's already poured another shot into Teddy's mug, but Teddy is just not up for that yet. He shifts away, fidgeting with the cup a little, in hopes he won't be asked to keep drinking it soon. The word toxic flickers across his brain.
"So, uh," Teddy says as Greg takes another drink, "what's the plan, then?"
"What, hanging out drinking shitty booze isn't good enough for you?" Greg says, but he's grinning, so Teddy just rolls his eyes. "Nah, we'll go out. Who d'you wanna be tonight?"
Teddy squirms and reflexively takes a sip from his mug before he remembers what's in it. As he chokes, he wonders if he could possibly learn to shift his taste buds away at key moments. But it buys him a little time before he has to reply. "I mean, I'm okay with just staying in. I heard there's supposed to be a good--"
"C'mon man, it's Friday. No, we'll hit up the town," Greg says. "Now, who should you be? Paris, maybe? There's this new club--" He breaks off to duck the cushion Teddy lobs at his head.
"Oh come on," Teddy says.
"All right, all right, fine," says Greg, laughing. "Yeah, you being a hot chick, that would just be awkward."
Teddy laughs self-consciously and takes a sudden and profound interest in the cuffs of his shirt.
"No, I've got it," Greg says and stands. "Johnny Storm! It's perfect, man, every club in the city will be open to us! Lots of flash, it'll be great." He puts the bottle down and pauses. "Hey, you can't light yourself on fire, can you?"
Teddy gets to his feet slowly. He shifts as he speaks. "I don't know," he says. "I've never tried it before."
"Well," Greg says, throwing a casual arm around 'Johnny's' shoulders. "No time like the present, eh?"
~*~
The trouble with shape-shifting is that you get so wrapped up in the shift that sometimes you miss the shape. You push and you struggle and you shift, and you lose sight.
Because you think that the trouble is in getting the shift right - that once you're the correct shape it will be easy.
~*~
Teddy doesn't know how he got here, where he saw what he needed to shift what he needed to get here. But he's here, now, pressing Billy up against a tree and kissing him. His hands are in Billy's hair and Billy's tongue is doing things that are making him dizzy.
He wishes vaguely that he knew what he'd done to make this happen, a dim want for information should it ever be needed, but mostly that's blotted out by the fact that Billy is making these noises, these incredible noises, and is clinging to Teddy as if he might fall over if he let go. And that is so, so, so much more important right now. Teddy angles his head to deepen the kiss even further, and Billy digs his fingers into his waist. This is where he is, now, and really, it is the only thing that matters to Teddy. He really thinks he could stay here kissing Billy until they both died of oxygen deprivation or starvation or stray blow to the head from whoever is the villain of this particular week.
He breaks away to breathe, a little, because if he did actually die then he couldn't keep kissing Billy. But he can't make himself stop, not completely, so instead he licks down Billy's jaw to his ear. He suckles on Billy's earlobe just long enough to note that Billy gasps and curls into him when he does that, then slides his mouth down the cords of Billy's neck to his shoulder. Teddy's eyes are closed and he's facing the wrong way, so he doesn't see.
Billy freezes; the hands that were a moment ago perfectly rubbing and clutching Teddy's back are now tapping him, progressively harder and harder until Teddy pulls his mouth away and looks at him. Billy's eyes are wide, and he kinda squeaks and pokes with his chin at something over Teddy's shoulder.
Teddy turns, then jumps away quickly when he realizes Eli is standing there, looking probably as awkward as he has ever looked in his life. Eli coughs a little, his eyes flick from a spot beyond their heads, to the tree branches, to his fingernails, to his feet. He starts, "I, uh--" He coughs again. "Um."
Eli takes a deep breath and stands a little straighter. He still doesn't look at either of them, but when he speaks his voice basically sounds normal.
"Look, Nate and I were thinking we should practice some group maneuvers, see if we can actually work together and not just at the same time. So you guys should finish-- uh, finish up what you're doing and come meet us over there."
Eli looks up at the sky one more time, acts like he's about to say something else, but then turns on his heel and walks away far too casually for it to be anything but feigned.
Teddy feels laughter bubbling up in his throat, and looks to catch Billy's eye to share it. But Billy isn't looking at him, won't look at him, and Teddy's laughter dies before it can even get started. "Billy?"
Billy scoops up his staff and continues not looking at Teddy. "We, um. We should go."
"Billy, is everything--? I mean, did I--?" Teddy says.
"Don't want them getting impatient waiting for us. You know how they are, they might end up vaporizing each other before we get there," Billy says with a strained laugh.
Teddy tries again but Billy cuts him off before he even gets a whole word out. "Come on, time's wasting," he says. And without even a single backwards glance, Billy takes off in the direction Eli just went.
Teddy chews on his lip. Billy shouldn't have-- Teddy feels like all of his insides have just rearranged themselves, and even though that's something he is capable of, he's pretty sure he didn't actually do it. He scrubs a hand over his face and adjusts his jeans - because even with the interruption and subsequent weird behavior...yeah - and follows after the both of them.
Practice does not go well after that. Teddy gets increasingly more anxious the longer Billy keeps actively not looking at him, and it shows in his performance. After he nearly takes Nate's head off with a wild punch, consensus is reached that it's time to call it quits.
Billy has been getting so much better with his flying since they all started practicing, but it still tends to go to shit when he's stressed out. Apparently he's pretty fucking stressed right now, because he's weaving and unsteady in the air, and when Nate calls practice, Teddy is really glad that Billy actually lands rather than falls. What he is less glad about is the fact that Billy leaves pretty much the second his feet hit the ground. He nods at Eli and Nate, brusque and red-faced, keeps right on not looking at Teddy, and makes for his bike.
Teddy grimaces, and Eli throws him an uncomfortable but approaching sympathetic glance. Nate just looks confused. "I'll just-- Night, guys," Teddy says, and chases after Billy again.
Billy is halfway down the block when Teddy finally catches up to him. Billy doesn't say anything, but he doesn't immediately hop on his bike and cycle away, so Teddy will take what he can get. He falls into step beside him and waits for...something. Usually talking is easy with Billy; Teddy doesn't have to worry about saying the wrong thing or finding his words taking the wrong shape. Something about the two of them together just feels natural to Teddy, and the words, whatever they are, just come.
Of course, it helps that Billy is normally really, um, chatty.
So, to be here with him, feeling this oppressive silence that is probably Teddy's fault, the fault of Teddy having done the wrong thing, of Teddy not being careful enough of the shape of things, it makes Teddy's heart race in a way that all of their training sessions never have. He can't find a thing to say. In the short time they've known each other, that's always been Billy's job, and Teddy just doesn't have the actions to follow it up. They walk a few more blocks, and every echoing step makes the acid in Teddy's stomach do more and more alarming things, until he just can't take it anymore.
"I--" he starts, and apparently the creaking of his voice was all that was needed to break the dam in Billy's.
"I don't know what that was," Billy says, and he sounds, not embarrassed or unsure or scared or any of the things Teddy was expecting, but angry. "I don't know what that was, or what exactly you were trying to do. Or prove. But I don't find it funny."
Teddy suddenly feels like he's trying to walk in shoes that are on backwards. "...Funny?" is all he can manage.
Billy clenches his jaw and stares at the sidewalk melting away beneath his feet. He says, "I didn't think that you were like that," and Teddy has one horrified moment where the world shifts around him and he thinks, How could I have gotten this so completely wrong? before Billy continues.
"I mean, yeah, alright, I'm-- I like guys, but to think that you would do that, make it a joke, that you would set me up in front of Eli of all people, just for a laugh, I really didn't think you were like that. I mean, we talked, I thought you-- But I guess I've been wrong before." Billy kicks a branch out of his path; he still won't look up at Teddy.
And Teddy needs him to look up, needs him to see, so he says, "Billy, what are you--"
Billy makes some kind of snarling noise and ignores him. "I thought we were friends, Teddy, I thought that maybe we could be friends, and I really wanted that."
"I don't want t--"
Billy laughs, high and without humor. "Oh, you don't even want to be friends? Just teammates, just someone to have around when you need a laugh? Oh wow, thanks, Teddy, but I'll pass."
Teddy needs to stop him, and stop him fast. He can practically see the gears turning in Billy's brain, the gears that must have started up the second Teddy pushed him against a tree and kissed him, and only got more furious and smoky the longer they stuttered their way through practice. Billy's mind always moves quick, and mostly that's a good thing, but sometimes it moves so quickly that he's too far down the maybe road to see what's going on now. Teddy knows he won't win this with words, even if Billy would actually let him have any.
"Billy, would you listen to me?"
Billy stops, scoffs, his face tight and shiny and hurt. He says, "What? What could you possibly say, Teddy?"
Teddy can't say anything. There is only one thing he can think to shift this off the path it's heading down, and that is to do. He grabs Billy by the back of the head and kisses him, really really hard. Their teeth click together and Billy sputters for a moment before his hands find Teddy's chest and shove him off.
"What the fuck, Teddy?" he says.
Teddy rolls his eyes and has to restrain himself from grabbing Billy's head again, just to keep him still. "Would you get a grip," he says.
Billy takes a deep breath and visibly settles. Teddy can see the gears starting to slow a bit, and he pushes his luck a little further. "I. Am not. Fucking with you. Look, if you don't-- If you don't feel...about me, okay, that's one thing. But I'm not going to let you think that this is some asshole prank or let you think that I'm not your friend."
"I didn't say that I didn't...I do feel..." Billy trails off, suddenly blushing, and Teddy feels everything awry in his chest tilt back into place. He can't even manage to smile.
"Billy, I like you. I really do," Teddy says. Billy starts to smile, and it's a strange, almost shy smile that Teddy hasn't seen before. It makes him want to burst. "I want--" he tries, but the words are too huge for him, the form isn't right, so he shakes his head and grins. "And I'll be happy to keep on giving you hickeys until you believe me."
Billy's eyes get huge, and his hands fly to his neck. "You gave me a hickey?"
Teddy can't help but laugh at Billy's extreme look of surprise. "Made you look," he says.
He's still laughing as Billy half-heartedly punches him in the chest and says, "Jackass," but he sobers when Billy starts worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. His lips are still slightly swollen from earlier, and Teddy really wants to just kiss him again. He's not sure if he should, but apparently Billy's mind has gotten there first. He grabs Teddy by his ears, and it's rough and kinda painful, but Teddy doesn't care, because Billy is kissing him crazily and changing the shape of things all over again.
Teddy pulls back slowly, can't resist taking another kiss or two with him as he goes, and rests his forehead against Billy's.
"This," he says. "This is what I want."
Billy grins, blindingly, and says, "Yeah."
Teddy can't see this shape, doesn't know where it's going to go or what it's going to be. But he does know that for once, he won't need to shift to fit it.
~*~fin~*~
AN the 2nd: Title comes from you shall above all things be glad and young by ee cummings. La la I am being pretentious I do not caaaaaaaaaaaaare.
Additionally, the sign on Billy's door in YA Presents #Whatever made me laugh way too hard for way too long not to use it some small way.
Author: attilatehbun
Pairing: Billy Kaplan/Teddy Altman
Rating: R/NC-17
Word Count: ~8000
Contains: Language, frottage, underage drinking-age
Summary: The trouble with shape-shifting is that so often the shape seems to shift more than you do. It changes day to day, moment to moment, and every time you shift to fit it you're one step behind.
Author's Notes: I can't even begin to describe the stupid convoluted route this took kicking my ass from what it started as to where it is now, so all I'm going to say is: Goddammit, Teddy. Huge thanks to dytabytes and mrssnape_1414 for helping me limp through the early stages, and to butterfly_kate for pulling me through the rest of the way. <3 to the flist in general, for putting up with my moronic flailing. Mistakes are mine, please point them out, all that jazz.
~*~
He doesn't remember a time when he hasn't been able to see it. Not counting, of course, his life prior to the age of about five, during which his strongest and earliest memory is watching Sesame Street while putting on his socks, and that's not really relevant to the matter at hand. Though, maybe it is, in a small way. His younger self saw his mother changing out of her comfortable house jeans and into something cleaner, prettier, nicer, saw her gathering her purse and dropping her keys inside, and he knew. They were going out. So he put on his socks and shoes without being asked, seeing the shape of the moment and changing himself to be ready, changing himself to fit.
His powers. Getting his powers, discovering his powers. Whatever. It made the physical easier. He wasn't limited anymore to just the small shifts, subtle, the ordinary things that everyone has to do. Yeah, sure, the new opportunities make it more complicated too, because he has so many new ways to adapt. So many new areas he's not sure if he wants to examine. But physical change and response is instinctive, and he can almost tell himself that the surface ease is enough. It's enough.
And Teddy can't deny that it smooths things, and he isn't sure of another way to be. If he even has an alternative. Observation and change is what he is.
~*~
The trouble with shape-shifting is that so often the shape seems to shift more than you do. It changes day to day, moment to moment, and every time you shift to fit it you're one step behind.
Because no matter how sure you are, there's always some doubt, and you can't adapt to fit the shape if you don't know what it is.
~*~
Teddy waits for Billy outside of his school. He had a half-day and is eager to grab Billy and get the weekend started. They have practice later, but Teddy likes finding Billy first, showing up together. Plus, practice is draining, and he wants to get some food in his system that isn't rancid cafeteria slop before running around like a maniac. All the shape-shifting wreaks hell on his metabolism.
The bell rings, and Teddy stands up a little taller, and absolutely does not smooth the wrinkles from his shirt or fluff up his hair a little. Billy isn't among the first students out the door, and when he does come out, Teddy almost misses him. The lightning Teddy is so used to seeing fill Billy, even when it isn't shooting out of his fingertips, is oddly absent. He looks almost smaller, and when he pushes past the other kids already hanging around the steps several of them shoot him nasty looks. Teddy thinks he hears one of them say something that Billy ignores, and he's taken an angry step towards them before he even realizes he's done it. But then Billy spots him and the lightning's back, brightening his eyes and causing his face to split into a grin.
"Teddy!" he says. "What's up? What are you doing here?"
Teddy glares at the assholes on the step over Billy's shoulder before smiling back at Billy. "I got off early today, and I was wondering if you wanted to grab some food before practice?"
Billy sighs with his whole body before starting off down the street. "That sounds great. I skipped lunch. Cafeteria slop is just not appetizing."
Teddy smiles to himself at the choice of words. Billy sees it and says, "What's funny?"
Teddy shakes his head. "No, nothing," he says. Billy stares at him oddly for another minute, but ultimately shrugs it off. Teddy glances back over his shoulder, then looks at Billy, something huge and hot blooming in his chest, spreading outward. Something that makes him want to Hulk-out and step between Billy and the assholes of the world. Something that makes him want to shout and rage and hide his face in his hands. He looks at Billy and starts again. "Hey, Billy? What was that back there?"
"What was what?" says Billy, puzzled.
"That, back there." Teddy gestures with his head in the direction of the school. "Those guys, harassing you?"
Billy readjusts the straps of his backpack and rolls his eyes. "They weren't harassing me. They were just being dicks."
Teddy bumps Billy with his shoulder. "Okay then, 'those guys being dicks,' what was that about?" he says.
Billy flushes almost imperceptibly, but Teddy's kinda paying attention, so he bumps Billy again and says, "Billy?"
"It's nothing," Billy says.
Teddy chews his lip. He doesn't want to-- but it really didn't look like nothing. "It didn't look like nothing."
Billy glances at him sharply and Teddy backtracks. "I'm not pushing," he says quickly.
Billy sighs. "No, it's alright, Teddy," he says. "It's nothing because, well, it's just high school? It's not important, especially not, you know, now." He waves his arm vaguely, summing up in one broad gesture the entirety of the superhero experience, as if it were that simple. "Those guys, they're just stuck in a bad teen movie circa 1980. The whole "nerdy, weird guy versus the jock squad" sub-plot. You must know about that."
"I--" Teddy starts, but can't finish. He thinks about Greg, about the guys Greg hassled, the guys Teddy would have been if he hadn't been lucky enough to be born with powers. The guys Teddy didn't stand up for as often as he should have. He blinks and swallows the rest of his words. He thinks about Billy, if Billy had been at his school, and the huge, hot feeling is back in his chest.
"Teddy. Teddy." Billy waves a hand in front of his face. "Where'd you just go?"
"No, I, uh. It's just. I'm sorry for that," he says.
Billy raises an eyebrow. "Oooookay. But, uh, Teddy? That wasn't you."
Teddy feels the blush rising but can't stop it. "But. It could have been. I-- I used to--"
Billy cuts him off. "You're not like that," he says.
"I nearly was--" Teddy starts.
This time Billy grabs his arm and stops him in his tracks. "But you're not. And you never have been," he says. "Not to me."
"Billy--"
"Teddy."
Teddy mumbles, "I just wish you didn't have to--" he gestures vaguely. "All that."
"I know," Billy says. "And thanks. But you don't-- you know."
Teddy tucks his head back into his shoulders. Billy turns into him, and there's an expression on his face that Teddy has no frame of reference for. He almost thinks there might be something there, below the surface, something he could use, something to turn the shape of this to what he wants. He can slide his hand up Billy's neck, so easily, tangle his fingers in his hair like it was nothing. He could lean and press, let the shape be his tongue in Billy's mouth and Billy's hands, touching him, opening him up.
But if he's wrong. Teddy isn't sure enough of this, the cue isn't strong enough for him to know whether he can be. So he shifts to safety, a joke about how if those assholes keep it up, Billy could just, like, zap them or something. Or turn them into frogs.
Billy laughs and says, "That would be cruel to the frog community at large."
Teddy snorts. "C'mon, man," he says. "Food. I'm dying."
Billy's face goes funny again, there's an odd quirk of his lips, but it's displaced by a wide smirk and a nod. "Agreed," he says.
~*~
Billy wears stupid t-shirts. He wears stupid t-shirts, and he bites his nails, down to the quick, practically bloody, and he runs at the mouth, but he smiles a lot, in an honest way, and when he learns what Teddy's powers are, he looks really thoughtful and says, "That must be, I don't know, tough."
Teddy blinks, and opens his mouth to ask what Billy means, but before he can speak, Iron Lad - or rather, Nathaniel - claps his hands together and says, "So, um, I guess we're all here now," so Teddy shifts back to Team Mode. It's new, different from what he used to think of as Team Mode, but he likes it, so he pays attention and resolves to see if he can't pull Billy aside later to find out what he meant by that.
~*~
The trouble with shape-shifting is that you don't always get the chances you want. You rely on the external to form the internal and the external is uncontrollable.
You are all reaction, but you just can't react to what isn't there.
~*~
They are on a mission. Okay, so it's a low key kind of mission, but a mission nonetheless. Billy has been making noises about marathoning all three Lord of the Rings movies and today Teddy has finally given in. Billy hasn't said whether he wants to watch the extended versions or the originals, but either way they're in for at least nine hours of movies, and they will need snacks. So they're off to a nearby bodega in search of chips, several gallons of soda, maybe a couple of microwave burritos, and even some pizza rolls if they're feeling particularly adventurous.
The day is gorgeous, the sun shining hard and bright and not quite warming the air enough to be unpleasant. It's a rare Saturday that they aren't spending in training with Eli and Nate, and a part of Teddy would really like to spend the day outside, not necessarily even doing anything, just sitting around and soaking up the day. But the far larger part of him wants to spend the day with Billy, and doesn't really care what he does once that little detail has been taken care of.
So Teddy simply slows his steps to drag out the walk and listens to Billy deliver what is nearly a dissertation on the things Peter Jackson did or did not Get Right. Billy likes to talk and Teddy likes to listen, and the words aren't even that important, just that sort of hum Billy gets in his voice when he gets excited. This shape is comfortable and easy, and Teddy doesn't regret forgoing the sun for it, not when he can walk a bit closer to Billy than is probably standard and let their shoulders bump affably. Even better that Billy doesn't flinch away whenever that happens.
At the bodega, they load up on chips and dips, both of them suggesting progressively weirder and weirder combinations in an attempt to gross the other out. In addition to the sodas, they splurge on a slushy drink in a kind of frightening shade of radioactive green to split on the way home. When they're out of the bodega, Teddy leans into Billy and jokes, "Think I should go for that color, or is it too much?"
Billy pops off the lid and pretends to seriously contemplate the question. "Definitely too much, Ted. All wrong for your eyes."
Try as he might, Teddy can't quite keep a straight face, and Billy gives him a playful sock in the shoulder.
They are nearly to Billy's when they pass an alley and hear a choked-off scream. They turn as one; in the alley there's a kid, can't be much older than they are, holding a gun on a tiny - a terrified and tiny - old woman. She's clutching her purse to her chest and the kid does not look happy about it. He's twitching a little bit and gesturing with the gun. Teddy doesn't even look at Billy; he knows he's right there with him.
It's so quick they don't even think to use their powers. Billy rushes in, grabs the old woman and pulls her to safety while Teddy swings his bag of 2-liters at the kid's gun hand and punches him, hard, in the jaw. The would-be mugger drops like a sack of bricks.
The old woman is shaken, but okay, now, with Billy's comforting arm around her shoulders and Teddy blushing and looking at his feet under her praise. They offer to walk her home, or at least wait with her until she's sure she's fine, but she snorts and fusses and insists she's seen far worse in her day. She calls them such nice young men, tells them she doesn't want to mess up their afternoon, and says that all she wants is to go home and call someone named "Vera" and tell her all about the excitement.
Teddy catches Billy's eyes over her head as she rummages in the bottom of her purse and has to swallow the shape of a giggle.
Before she leaves she presses something into each of their hands, ignoring their stammering protests. She says, "Thank you, dears," and totters off out of the alley and back into the sunshine. The "something" turns out to be a wrapped hard candy, ancient, slightly sticky, and partially unwrapped from the movement of her purse. Teddy stares at it for a moment, nonplussed.
Teddy hears a choking sound from Billy's direction and looks up at him. He's bright red and looks like he's having trouble breathing, and Teddy says, "Billy, you didn't actually try to eat the candy, did you?"
But then Billy throws his head back and lets out a ridiculous - and there's no other word for it - guffaw.
"Did you see?" he chokes out. "And we-- I can't believe we just did that, that was excellent!"
The adrenaline hits Teddy in rush. His knees are a little shaky, but he's laughing now too, so he hunches over and sort of leans against the wall to keep from falling. Soon he's wiping tears from his eyes and giving little, hiccup-y breaths, but he feels good, he feels so good, because they did good and yeah, everything turned out alright.
Billy is laughing like a maniac, looking none too steady his own self. He punches the air a bit too vigorously and overbalances. Teddy moves to catch him; his arms go around Billy's waist, easy, natural, as Billy thuds into him, still laughing. Billy's arms wrap around Teddy as if they belong there, for a second they're hugging, then Teddy's laughter dries up and catches in his throat. Billy coughs and straightens up and he's not laughing anymore either.
Billy's fingers clutch reflexively at the back of Teddy's sweatshirt and the hesitation and - is that? oh please, is that hope? - taking shape in his face is like looking in a mirror. Teddy licks his lips, and Billy makes a soft noise, kind of an "Oh" mixed with a groan, in the back of his throat.
Teddy doesn't even need to dip his head; he just leans forward, closes his eyes, and he's kissing Billy and Billy is unbelievably kissing him back. He tightens his arms and leans back against the wall, and when Billy pulls back for breath, rolls his eyes, and says, "Finally," what is Teddy to do but kiss him again?
But it's just a fabrication, a hope for an opportunity to shift. There's no old woman, no unconscious mugger not ten feet to the side of them, and Teddy knows that's good, because why would he wish that on anyone, just to concoct a chance? It would be too-too...convenient, and if there's one thing Teddy's learned it's that life doesn't work that way. He might want, that doesn't mean it will be.
So on that day when Teddy wishes for a chance to shift, nothing happens. Billy slurps up most of the slushy thing and chatters and chatters and chatters, while Teddy walks beside him and doesn't try to change the shape of anything.
~*~
It is really hot. Teddy's mom wouldn't let him leave unless he put on a nice shirt, but he's regretting the long sleeves right now, as it's about a million degrees in the gym. Also, the teachers wouldn't let him bring in his soda, so he had to chug it all outside, in one long swallow, and now he has to pee.
But first, there's a new shape he has to figure out how to be.
Mike is giving him a significant look. Or rather, is giving him several short significant looks, because he keeps looking over at Mary Anne in between. Mike apparently likes Mary Anne, like, likes her likes her, and if the blushing glances she's giving him are any indication, the feeling's mutual. That's easy. There's nothing Teddy needs to do there.
Except that Mary Anne is currently clinging to her friend, who's clinging just as nervously back, and the DJ just put on a really stupid song, and Mike's giving him significant looks. Clearly, Teddy is supposed to ask Mary Anne's friend to dance, so that Mary Anne can dance with Mike without feeling guilty.
Teddy feels outnumbered.
But he can see that Mike really wants this, and Teddy gets the general impression that this is the point of these stupid dances. The shape he's supposed to take is wanting to dance with these girls. Or at the very least, helping out his friends. So Teddy pushes it all back and smiles at Mary Anne's friend. Mike grins and leads Mary Anne onto the dance floor.
The friend looks awkwardly up at Teddy. She's got curly black hair, and tons of freckles all over her face, and braces with blue elastics, and Teddy assumes she's pretty, as far as these things go. She's in his social studies class, and he's grateful at least for that, because it provides him with at least one piece of information about her: Her name is Genny, with a G - not short for Jennifer but for something else, something more unusual - and she likes to outline the countries on her world maps in blue colored pencil.
This does not strike Teddy as anything that might help him here.
He reaches out stiffly and rests his hands on her waist, feather-light. Genny-with-a-G smiles nervously and raises her hands to his shoulders, just as stiffly, and they begin to sway in rough time with the song. Neither of them look at each other; the gym walls and floor are suddenly way more interesting than Teddy has ever noticed before. They only look at each other's faces when their eyes accidentally catch alternating walls to stare at.
Her palms are hot and a little bit sweaty through the material of his shirt.
Teddy really has to pee.
He looks around again and sees Mike and Mary Anne nearby. They're swaying just as awkwardly as Teddy and Genny, but Mike's holding Mary Anne a lot closer, and when he catches Teddy's eye through the cloud of her hair, he flashes Teddy a huge grin and a thumbs up. Teddy tries to grin back.
The urge to pee is getting overwhelming, and the song is apparently the longest song in the universe.
Teddy wonders if he should start a conversation with Genny-with-a-G, but he can't think of anything beyond, "So you really like blue, huh?" Besides, another quick glance around the room shows that not a single one of the other scattered couples is having anything remotely like a conversation. A few of them are making out, grossly, sloppily, and Teddy has absolutely no intention of taking that shape. He looks back at Genny, who quickly drops her eyes to her feet and blushes as red as a tomato, under the freckles.
Teddy looks back to the bleachers, wishing he was still sitting there, and doesn't look around again until the song mercifully ends. Genny drops her arms and flees back to Mary Anne, and they immediately cling to each other and start whispering. Teddy follows a moment later, because Mike is still standing by Mary Anne's side, awkwardly shuffling his feet. When he sees Teddy he grabs him and pulls him aside.
"Thanks, Teddy, really," he says.
Teddy shrugs. "No problem. I guess it went okay, then?" he says.
"Yeah, yeah, it was great," Mike says, looking over at Mary Anne, who blushes and turns back to Genny-with-a-G, giggling. After a moment, Mike remembers that he's having a conversation. "Oh, yeah, uh, how was it for you?"
"It was fine, I guess," Teddy says.
"Cool. Cool. So, um, you'll dance with her again, maybe?" Mike looks at Teddy, nervous but hopeful.
Teddy bites the inside of his cheek. "Yeah, sure, whatever," he says.
"Excellent," Mike says, eyes already drifting back over to Mary Anne.
Teddy takes advantage of the moment to escape, finally, to the bathroom.
~*~
The trouble with shape-shifting is that there's a difference between shifting to fit a shape you see that you need and projecting the shape you want to be. And though sometimes those lines blur, they never blur enough.
Because you always know when what you see is just you.
~*~
Eli insisted, and Nate couldn't come up with a suitable opposition, so they are all now doing patrols. Not regularly, and not always in costume, partially because not all of them even have full costumes yet, but still. Patrols. For real patrols. Which means very late nights and difficult, blurry days. Teddy is appreciative of the practice, glad that they won't be going in against Kang cold if and when he ever shows up, but he really really misses sleep. He knows it comes with the territory, but it is hard, sneaking in at four AM and crashing for a few hours before getting up to face the day. Face school, which seems so irrelevant to his life right now that it's almost as if it's happening off page. He's fallen half-asleep in class a few times already, and it's only the fact that his teachers think he's generally a good boy that they haven't yet written home.
(Or at least, he thinks they haven't. His mom surely would have said something. Maybe he should check?)
He doesn't really care about school, and while it's harder to focus with the team on next to no sleep, he can cope. But there's Billy. Billy has been coming over a lot more, after practice, after school. Teddy is trying very hard not to let that get to him; they're friends and hanging out is something that friends do, so if his heart starts beating a bit faster when Billy shows up at his door, well, it probably means he just drank a little too much coffee trying to stay awake. Yeah.
The problem is, the lack of sleep is starting to get to Billy too. More than once one or both of them have nodded off while hanging out, usually while watching movies or bad television, though there was one time Billy actually fell asleep mid-sentence. Which is precisely the problem, really. Billy falls asleep. Billy falls asleep, sometimes, falls sideways into Teddy, and just naps, lying there, his head on Teddy's shoulder, and it takes every ounce of willpower Teddy possesses not to sling an arm around him and fall asleep too.
Teddy was prepared for hearing Billy's laugh. He was prepared to see Billy's smile, to see him floating on lightning or biting his lip as he concentrates. Teddy could cope with it, to be there for all of these things and never touch him. But he was not prepared for this. He was not prepared to see Billy's slender wrists tucked into his chest or the line of Billy's jaw, relaxed, half-open in sleep. He was not prepared for the soft sounds of his breath.
Teddy has no idea how to cope with Billy being asleep in his bed.
Billy's curled up, half-hugging Teddy's pillow and letting out gentle snores. He rubs his feet together and slides, his shirt pulling up just enough to expose a glimpse of dark hair beneath his belly button, and Teddy has to clench his teeth together, desperately trying to find a way to shift this situation out of fantasy territory and back into the safe-if-uncomfortable ground of two guys trying to watch a movie on a computer screen where there are no shenanigans whatsoever.
But he can't, because Billy shifts again on the sheets, rolling onto his back and mumbling a sleepy "Mmmwzzgoinon?" as his eyes flutter open and Teddy is already on the bed and moving. Billy narrows his eyes and says, "Teddy?" as Teddy leans down.
He touches his lips to Billy's, soft, hesitant, expecting to be hit or shoved off at any moment. But Billy slides under him, opening his mouth and leaning up into the kiss. His hands find Teddy's shoulder blades and press, and the nervous buzzing in the back of Teddy's brain bursts. It's all the encouragement he needs for the shape to become clear and he lets his weight settle against Billy's chest, his mouth opening, his tongue demanding.
Billy doesn't seem to mind. He moves again, sliding one thigh between Teddy's legs and arching up. His hands find their way into Teddy's hair and tug, not enough to pull Teddy off, just enough to feel really fucking good, the pleasure of it singing through Teddy's nerves and going straight to his cock. Teddy's hips roll forward independent of his brain, and before he even has the chance to think that he should pull back or apologize Billy bites down on his lip and rocks his own hips up. Teddy rocks his hips again, on purpose this time, because Billy's reaction was amazing, and when their hips meet he feels Billy's cock, hard and wanting, grinding into his. The feel of it makes something short out in Teddy's brain, and he has to break away from Billy's mouth to gasp into his shoulder.
Billy bites at Teddy's ear and takes advantage of his momentary distraction to roll them both over. He props himself up on his hands and before Teddy can even catch his breath, Billy's mouth has found his and Teddy can't do anything but meet his lips again and again. Their hips grind against each other and Billy rears back, squeezing his eyes shut and hissing. Teddy has to groan, the roughness of his voice surprising even him. He slides his hands to grip Billy's hips, and he rocks up again because, so hot. Billy lets out a low fuuuck and attacks Teddy, thrusting forward needy and immediate, kissing Teddy with almost bruising force. Teddy meets Billy's tongue and slides his hands under his shirt. He splays his fingers across Billy's stomach, feeling the muscles there flex and jump with each thrust of Billy's hips. He can feel the heat and weight of Billy's cock against his, even through both pairs of their jeans, and his skin feels flushed and way, way too small. Groaning into Billy's mouth, Teddy circles his hands around under Billy's shirt, one pressing into his back to keep him close, the other dipping into the back of his jeans and squeezing.
Billy stills and Teddy freezes, because maybe the shape was wrong after all. But Billy licks into Teddy's mouth again and adjusts his legs, moving to straddle Teddy's thighs. He sits back, pulling Teddy up with him, hips renewing their desperate rocking. He kisses Teddy's jaw, biting just a little, and damn if that doesn't make Teddy's cock harder and his hips grind upwards more insistently. Then Billy pulls back, tugging Teddy's shirt over his head. Teddy gets tangled, cursing, his arms too insistent on continuing to hold Billy in his lap, his lips still trying to find Billy's mouth. He struggles and twists as Billy bends down, mouth hot against Teddy's shoulder, collarbone, the plane of his chest, and oh-oh god. Teddy groans as Billy's mouth closes over his nipple, and dammit he still isn't free of his shirt. He's busted through countless shirts when he's Hulked-out, torn them apart like they were nothing, and when he actually wants to do it, he finds himself completely trapped.
Finally he pulls free, the force causing him to thump back hard onto the bed. Billy bites his lip and says, "Oh my god, are you okay?" before shaking his head with a "No, right, duh." He looks like he maybe wants to hit himself in the forehead, so Teddy just laughs and grabs him by the back of the neck to pull him down into another kiss. His hands move to Billy's shirt again, trying to maneuver it off him while still keeping his chest and hips pressed tight where Teddy wants them. Billy sits up once more, laughing and tugging his shirt off with an ease Teddy is really really envious of for about two seconds, but then Billy leans back down and they are skin to skin, Billy's chest sliding along Teddy's with a friction that is just completely beyond Teddy's ability to describe in words.
This time Teddy is the one to shift his legs, angling his knees so that Billy's narrow hips fall easily between them. Billy lets out a muffled curse against Teddy's neck as their hips rocks together, cocks sliding along each other, finally, at the perfect angle. Teddy searches out Billy's mouth again, mind rapidly moving beyond rational thought. Instinct is taking over for him, just the need for morenowfrictionharder. Billy seems to feel the same; his hands grabbing at Teddy almost anywhere he can, hips, shoulders, ribs, the underside of his thighs. Billy's thrusts are getting more irregular, more demanding, and Teddy digs his fingers into Billy's skin and meets him as best he can. He is panting hard, too hard to even kiss Billy properly anymore, so he breaks away and mouths wetly at Billy's neck as he thrusts helplessly up into Billy's hips. He fumbles his hands down the back of Billy's jeans and this time he doesn't even slow down, he thrusts even harder, biting down on Teddy's shoulder.
Billy lets out a sharp cry, choked-sounding and shaky, and his hips jerk against Teddy's and hold. Teddy holds Billy tight, gasping at the feel of Billy shuddering against him. He kisses at Billy's ear, his cheek, trying to find his mouth as he shakes. And then things shift on Teddy again.
One moment, he is in sweet friction and too small skin and needneedneed, and the next his balls are tightening and he is holding Billy hard against him and trying desperately not to whimper as he comes. Billy props himself up on his hands for a moment, his face a mixture of surprise and pleasure, and then his lips find Teddy's in a loose, weary kiss. He touches Teddy's jaw almost reverently when he finally pulls back.
Teddy looks up at Billy, carding his fingers gently through his hair. He can't believe that he just totally came in his pants, and thinks maybe he should be embarrassed about that. But then he looks into Billy's face, flushed and satisfied, and it hits him that Billy just did too, because of him, and wow.
Billy leans his forehead against Teddy's and breathes, "Wow."
"Yeah," says Teddy.
Billy grins lazily. "So," he says, his voice a comfortable tease, "is there something you need to tell me, or?" and Teddy--
--Teddy shifts back to his computer and turns up the sound on the movie. Billy gives out another muffled snore and rolls onto his side, and Teddy does his best to ignore it. It makes it easier to just be.
~*~
The mug is badly chipped, and Teddy's not entirely sure it's as clean as he'd like. He sniffs its contents gingerly and the sharp stink of it has him pulling back with a grimace.
"Man, what the hell is this stuff?" He sniffs it again and tries not to gag.
"Not a fucking clue, dude," Greg says, and clinks the edge of his bottle against the mug. "Drink up." He drops onto the couch opposite Teddy and takes a swallow directly from the bottle.
Teddy throws a nervous glance at the door. "Aren't you worried about your mom, you know, catching us? Finding out yo-we stole her," he sniffs the cup again, "something."
Greg laughs bitterly. "You kidding? She never notices anything, even when she's not passed out. Which she completely is. I'll just add some water to it before she wakes up." He looks at the bottle. "It can only improve the taste."
Teddy raises his eyebrows, still unsure, and Greg's face shuts down. "Don't pussy out on me, Altman."
Teddy knows this is colossally stupid, but he also knows what he has to do, to stay here. And staying is where he wants to be, so. He squeezes his eyes shut and knocks back what's in the mug. He manages not to retch as the, apparently, whiskey burns a hot trail down his throat, but it's a near thing. "That's vile," he finally manages to cough out.
Greg reaches over and claps Teddy on the back. "You'll get used to it."
"God, I hope not," Teddy says, trying to ignore the feel of Greg's hand on his back. He's already poured another shot into Teddy's mug, but Teddy is just not up for that yet. He shifts away, fidgeting with the cup a little, in hopes he won't be asked to keep drinking it soon. The word toxic flickers across his brain.
"So, uh," Teddy says as Greg takes another drink, "what's the plan, then?"
"What, hanging out drinking shitty booze isn't good enough for you?" Greg says, but he's grinning, so Teddy just rolls his eyes. "Nah, we'll go out. Who d'you wanna be tonight?"
Teddy squirms and reflexively takes a sip from his mug before he remembers what's in it. As he chokes, he wonders if he could possibly learn to shift his taste buds away at key moments. But it buys him a little time before he has to reply. "I mean, I'm okay with just staying in. I heard there's supposed to be a good--"
"C'mon man, it's Friday. No, we'll hit up the town," Greg says. "Now, who should you be? Paris, maybe? There's this new club--" He breaks off to duck the cushion Teddy lobs at his head.
"Oh come on," Teddy says.
"All right, all right, fine," says Greg, laughing. "Yeah, you being a hot chick, that would just be awkward."
Teddy laughs self-consciously and takes a sudden and profound interest in the cuffs of his shirt.
"No, I've got it," Greg says and stands. "Johnny Storm! It's perfect, man, every club in the city will be open to us! Lots of flash, it'll be great." He puts the bottle down and pauses. "Hey, you can't light yourself on fire, can you?"
Teddy gets to his feet slowly. He shifts as he speaks. "I don't know," he says. "I've never tried it before."
"Well," Greg says, throwing a casual arm around 'Johnny's' shoulders. "No time like the present, eh?"
~*~
The trouble with shape-shifting is that you get so wrapped up in the shift that sometimes you miss the shape. You push and you struggle and you shift, and you lose sight.
Because you think that the trouble is in getting the shift right - that once you're the correct shape it will be easy.
~*~
Teddy doesn't know how he got here, where he saw what he needed to shift what he needed to get here. But he's here, now, pressing Billy up against a tree and kissing him. His hands are in Billy's hair and Billy's tongue is doing things that are making him dizzy.
He wishes vaguely that he knew what he'd done to make this happen, a dim want for information should it ever be needed, but mostly that's blotted out by the fact that Billy is making these noises, these incredible noises, and is clinging to Teddy as if he might fall over if he let go. And that is so, so, so much more important right now. Teddy angles his head to deepen the kiss even further, and Billy digs his fingers into his waist. This is where he is, now, and really, it is the only thing that matters to Teddy. He really thinks he could stay here kissing Billy until they both died of oxygen deprivation or starvation or stray blow to the head from whoever is the villain of this particular week.
He breaks away to breathe, a little, because if he did actually die then he couldn't keep kissing Billy. But he can't make himself stop, not completely, so instead he licks down Billy's jaw to his ear. He suckles on Billy's earlobe just long enough to note that Billy gasps and curls into him when he does that, then slides his mouth down the cords of Billy's neck to his shoulder. Teddy's eyes are closed and he's facing the wrong way, so he doesn't see.
Billy freezes; the hands that were a moment ago perfectly rubbing and clutching Teddy's back are now tapping him, progressively harder and harder until Teddy pulls his mouth away and looks at him. Billy's eyes are wide, and he kinda squeaks and pokes with his chin at something over Teddy's shoulder.
Teddy turns, then jumps away quickly when he realizes Eli is standing there, looking probably as awkward as he has ever looked in his life. Eli coughs a little, his eyes flick from a spot beyond their heads, to the tree branches, to his fingernails, to his feet. He starts, "I, uh--" He coughs again. "Um."
Eli takes a deep breath and stands a little straighter. He still doesn't look at either of them, but when he speaks his voice basically sounds normal.
"Look, Nate and I were thinking we should practice some group maneuvers, see if we can actually work together and not just at the same time. So you guys should finish-- uh, finish up what you're doing and come meet us over there."
Eli looks up at the sky one more time, acts like he's about to say something else, but then turns on his heel and walks away far too casually for it to be anything but feigned.
Teddy feels laughter bubbling up in his throat, and looks to catch Billy's eye to share it. But Billy isn't looking at him, won't look at him, and Teddy's laughter dies before it can even get started. "Billy?"
Billy scoops up his staff and continues not looking at Teddy. "We, um. We should go."
"Billy, is everything--? I mean, did I--?" Teddy says.
"Don't want them getting impatient waiting for us. You know how they are, they might end up vaporizing each other before we get there," Billy says with a strained laugh.
Teddy tries again but Billy cuts him off before he even gets a whole word out. "Come on, time's wasting," he says. And without even a single backwards glance, Billy takes off in the direction Eli just went.
Teddy chews on his lip. Billy shouldn't have-- Teddy feels like all of his insides have just rearranged themselves, and even though that's something he is capable of, he's pretty sure he didn't actually do it. He scrubs a hand over his face and adjusts his jeans - because even with the interruption and subsequent weird behavior...yeah - and follows after the both of them.
Practice does not go well after that. Teddy gets increasingly more anxious the longer Billy keeps actively not looking at him, and it shows in his performance. After he nearly takes Nate's head off with a wild punch, consensus is reached that it's time to call it quits.
Billy has been getting so much better with his flying since they all started practicing, but it still tends to go to shit when he's stressed out. Apparently he's pretty fucking stressed right now, because he's weaving and unsteady in the air, and when Nate calls practice, Teddy is really glad that Billy actually lands rather than falls. What he is less glad about is the fact that Billy leaves pretty much the second his feet hit the ground. He nods at Eli and Nate, brusque and red-faced, keeps right on not looking at Teddy, and makes for his bike.
Teddy grimaces, and Eli throws him an uncomfortable but approaching sympathetic glance. Nate just looks confused. "I'll just-- Night, guys," Teddy says, and chases after Billy again.
Billy is halfway down the block when Teddy finally catches up to him. Billy doesn't say anything, but he doesn't immediately hop on his bike and cycle away, so Teddy will take what he can get. He falls into step beside him and waits for...something. Usually talking is easy with Billy; Teddy doesn't have to worry about saying the wrong thing or finding his words taking the wrong shape. Something about the two of them together just feels natural to Teddy, and the words, whatever they are, just come.
Of course, it helps that Billy is normally really, um, chatty.
So, to be here with him, feeling this oppressive silence that is probably Teddy's fault, the fault of Teddy having done the wrong thing, of Teddy not being careful enough of the shape of things, it makes Teddy's heart race in a way that all of their training sessions never have. He can't find a thing to say. In the short time they've known each other, that's always been Billy's job, and Teddy just doesn't have the actions to follow it up. They walk a few more blocks, and every echoing step makes the acid in Teddy's stomach do more and more alarming things, until he just can't take it anymore.
"I--" he starts, and apparently the creaking of his voice was all that was needed to break the dam in Billy's.
"I don't know what that was," Billy says, and he sounds, not embarrassed or unsure or scared or any of the things Teddy was expecting, but angry. "I don't know what that was, or what exactly you were trying to do. Or prove. But I don't find it funny."
Teddy suddenly feels like he's trying to walk in shoes that are on backwards. "...Funny?" is all he can manage.
Billy clenches his jaw and stares at the sidewalk melting away beneath his feet. He says, "I didn't think that you were like that," and Teddy has one horrified moment where the world shifts around him and he thinks, How could I have gotten this so completely wrong? before Billy continues.
"I mean, yeah, alright, I'm-- I like guys, but to think that you would do that, make it a joke, that you would set me up in front of Eli of all people, just for a laugh, I really didn't think you were like that. I mean, we talked, I thought you-- But I guess I've been wrong before." Billy kicks a branch out of his path; he still won't look up at Teddy.
And Teddy needs him to look up, needs him to see, so he says, "Billy, what are you--"
Billy makes some kind of snarling noise and ignores him. "I thought we were friends, Teddy, I thought that maybe we could be friends, and I really wanted that."
"I don't want t--"
Billy laughs, high and without humor. "Oh, you don't even want to be friends? Just teammates, just someone to have around when you need a laugh? Oh wow, thanks, Teddy, but I'll pass."
Teddy needs to stop him, and stop him fast. He can practically see the gears turning in Billy's brain, the gears that must have started up the second Teddy pushed him against a tree and kissed him, and only got more furious and smoky the longer they stuttered their way through practice. Billy's mind always moves quick, and mostly that's a good thing, but sometimes it moves so quickly that he's too far down the maybe road to see what's going on now. Teddy knows he won't win this with words, even if Billy would actually let him have any.
"Billy, would you listen to me?"
Billy stops, scoffs, his face tight and shiny and hurt. He says, "What? What could you possibly say, Teddy?"
Teddy can't say anything. There is only one thing he can think to shift this off the path it's heading down, and that is to do. He grabs Billy by the back of the head and kisses him, really really hard. Their teeth click together and Billy sputters for a moment before his hands find Teddy's chest and shove him off.
"What the fuck, Teddy?" he says.
Teddy rolls his eyes and has to restrain himself from grabbing Billy's head again, just to keep him still. "Would you get a grip," he says.
Billy takes a deep breath and visibly settles. Teddy can see the gears starting to slow a bit, and he pushes his luck a little further. "I. Am not. Fucking with you. Look, if you don't-- If you don't feel...about me, okay, that's one thing. But I'm not going to let you think that this is some asshole prank or let you think that I'm not your friend."
"I didn't say that I didn't...I do feel..." Billy trails off, suddenly blushing, and Teddy feels everything awry in his chest tilt back into place. He can't even manage to smile.
"Billy, I like you. I really do," Teddy says. Billy starts to smile, and it's a strange, almost shy smile that Teddy hasn't seen before. It makes him want to burst. "I want--" he tries, but the words are too huge for him, the form isn't right, so he shakes his head and grins. "And I'll be happy to keep on giving you hickeys until you believe me."
Billy's eyes get huge, and his hands fly to his neck. "You gave me a hickey?"
Teddy can't help but laugh at Billy's extreme look of surprise. "Made you look," he says.
He's still laughing as Billy half-heartedly punches him in the chest and says, "Jackass," but he sobers when Billy starts worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. His lips are still slightly swollen from earlier, and Teddy really wants to just kiss him again. He's not sure if he should, but apparently Billy's mind has gotten there first. He grabs Teddy by his ears, and it's rough and kinda painful, but Teddy doesn't care, because Billy is kissing him crazily and changing the shape of things all over again.
Teddy pulls back slowly, can't resist taking another kiss or two with him as he goes, and rests his forehead against Billy's.
"This," he says. "This is what I want."
Billy grins, blindingly, and says, "Yeah."
Teddy can't see this shape, doesn't know where it's going to go or what it's going to be. But he does know that for once, he won't need to shift to fit it.
~*~fin~*~
AN the 2nd: Title comes from you shall above all things be glad and young by ee cummings. La la I am being pretentious I do not caaaaaaaaaaaaare.
Additionally, the sign on Billy's door in YA Presents #Whatever made me laugh way too hard for way too long not to use it some small way.