One-Upmanship by NV (Challenge #19: Episode Title)
Title: One-Upmanship
Characters: Billy, Don, Charlie (Don/Charlie mentioned briefly)
Rating: R
Warnings: Mention of incest (I cannot escape you, incest)
Spoilers: If you haven't met Billy then spoiler for "Man Hunt"
Challenge: #19 Episode Title ("Bones of Contention")
Word Count: 841
Disclaimer: I don't own, you know who does, and if not: Shazam!
Summary: Don and Billy think they're going to die, so they confess to each other. Could have easily been a kinky story, but I punked.
A/N: My bartender was the first person to read this fic. Then he cut me off. LOL (J/K). Silly bartender, embrace the gay incest. Also, I'm not sure which comedian/actor did the whole "I'm Jewish; there is no hell" line, but if someone finds out, I'll put in the credit.
Don had only told him because they thought they were going to die. Long days together, fighting through the sweat and adrenaline and fear, it made sense for their final confessions to be to each other. And what would it matter what the other thought? They were going to be dead soon, and there would be no opportunity for long-term bitching and awkward looks.
“Unless we end up in hell together,” Coop quipped.
“I’m Jewish; there is no hell.”
So in the cramped confines of a dirty, makeshift holding cell at the back of a meatpacking plant, Coop told him about how he used to be the school bully because it was the only thing that made sense. His dad was a mean drunk and would hit his mom. It was normal for the kids to be beaten with his belt and burned with cigarettes. So when he’d see the kids at school - the smart, tiny kids who had perfect lives and a ticket out of town - he would terrorize them.
“Kids like your brother,” Coop supplied, recalling stories Don had told him about Charlie’s perpetual fight for social survival.
Don had clenched his jaw and fists. The urge to throw a punch was dampened only by the fact that it was Billy. His partner. If they had been anything other than ball-busting, criminal-capturing man’s men, he would call them best friends.
Partners. Partners until the end, which had come a’ knocking. Willing to take a bullet for each other. Or spill their guts before taking two to the head.
“I got you beat,” Don challenged. “You remember Captain Bilkes?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I bombed my entrance exam.” He revised, “Okay, I didn’t bomb, but I didn’t pass.”
“No shit? You’ve always been Mr. Made-For-FBI as far as I’m concerned.”
“It was a technicality. A few. Maybe just flat out zeros. But the tests were brutal.”
“Sure, sure.”
“So I fucked him.”
“What?!”
“And I’ve never given anyone a reason to doubt my acceptance, so it was worth it. Like you said, Mr. FBI.”
“Eppes, man, you fucked your way into the Bureau. Captain Bilkes, no less.”
“What? Are you going to call me a faggot?”
Coop flashed him a dark smile. “Hardly. And I’m sure I suck cock better than you.”
Don thought he felt a heart attack hitting him, but he pushed through it. Damned if he was going to go from heart failure when he was minutes away from going out like a man. Execution-style in the line of duty. Dignified.
“I never pegged you --”
“For what? A fag?” He smiled again. “I’m a ladies man, son; don’t doubt it. But, every once in a while, it’s good to have a man around. None of that Hugh Grant, picking out curtains, talking about our feelings kind of shit.”
“Yeah. I suppose.”
“So I’ll see your homosexual repression and raise you a felony.”
Don cocked an eyebrow. “Felony?”
“Dirty Sean. Detroit ’97.”
“The crossfire killing?”
Coop winked. “Hardly. Put that mother fucker in, saw the son of a bitch out. He killed twelve kids, you know. Drug dealer, gang kingpin, murderer. Saw him across the street when the bullets started flying, took my chance.”
“You intentionally killed him?”
“Hell yes. Never regretted it, either. Miracle they didn’t take my gun and put me with the rest of the bastards.”
Don sat quietly, mauling things over.
“I win, don’t I?” Coop gloated. “We’re gonna die any moment here, and I’m gonna be the winner.”
He let Billy enjoy his self-congratulatory victory for a minute or two, the death-clocking ticking down; a heavy film of sweat covered their foreheads, backs, armpits, thighs, everywhere.
“I fucked my brother,” Don confessed, barely above a whisper. “It fucked him, and it was the best sex of my life.”
That was when backup had arrived, opening unexpected fire on the fugitives that had loaded up their cartel and were on their way to take care of the two agents in the back.
The Captain pat them on the back, telling them how lucky they were to be alive and ordering them both on mandatory two-week vacation.
*********
Now Billy rests against the edge of the desk, watching a quick wrist flicking as a hand draws equations across the board, thick curls bouncing with the velocity of his movements.
“And that’s how you’re going to catch your man,” Charlie says, pointing at the final solution.
Don watches Billy size up his brother, Charlie growing more restless than normal under their gazes. He glances uneasily from Billy to Don.
“What? Is there something I missed?” Charlie motions back to his work, a hand coming up to his face in contemplation.
“No, Charlie, it’s fine,” Don assures quickly, not because he knows the math is right but because he knows the math isn’t the reason for the heady stares.
“Then why are you guys looking at me like that?”
“Because I’m star-struck,” Billy croons in his gravelly bourbon voice. “I’m finally meeting the man behind the mystery.”
Characters: Billy, Don, Charlie (Don/Charlie mentioned briefly)
Rating: R
Warnings: Mention of incest (I cannot escape you, incest)
Spoilers: If you haven't met Billy then spoiler for "Man Hunt"
Challenge: #19 Episode Title ("Bones of Contention")
Word Count: 841
Disclaimer: I don't own, you know who does, and if not: Shazam!
Summary: Don and Billy think they're going to die, so they confess to each other. Could have easily been a kinky story, but I punked.
A/N: My bartender was the first person to read this fic. Then he cut me off. LOL (J/K). Silly bartender, embrace the gay incest. Also, I'm not sure which comedian/actor did the whole "I'm Jewish; there is no hell" line, but if someone finds out, I'll put in the credit.
Don had only told him because they thought they were going to die. Long days together, fighting through the sweat and adrenaline and fear, it made sense for their final confessions to be to each other. And what would it matter what the other thought? They were going to be dead soon, and there would be no opportunity for long-term bitching and awkward looks.
“Unless we end up in hell together,” Coop quipped.
“I’m Jewish; there is no hell.”
So in the cramped confines of a dirty, makeshift holding cell at the back of a meatpacking plant, Coop told him about how he used to be the school bully because it was the only thing that made sense. His dad was a mean drunk and would hit his mom. It was normal for the kids to be beaten with his belt and burned with cigarettes. So when he’d see the kids at school - the smart, tiny kids who had perfect lives and a ticket out of town - he would terrorize them.
“Kids like your brother,” Coop supplied, recalling stories Don had told him about Charlie’s perpetual fight for social survival.
Don had clenched his jaw and fists. The urge to throw a punch was dampened only by the fact that it was Billy. His partner. If they had been anything other than ball-busting, criminal-capturing man’s men, he would call them best friends.
Partners. Partners until the end, which had come a’ knocking. Willing to take a bullet for each other. Or spill their guts before taking two to the head.
“I got you beat,” Don challenged. “You remember Captain Bilkes?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I bombed my entrance exam.” He revised, “Okay, I didn’t bomb, but I didn’t pass.”
“No shit? You’ve always been Mr. Made-For-FBI as far as I’m concerned.”
“It was a technicality. A few. Maybe just flat out zeros. But the tests were brutal.”
“Sure, sure.”
“So I fucked him.”
“What?!”
“And I’ve never given anyone a reason to doubt my acceptance, so it was worth it. Like you said, Mr. FBI.”
“Eppes, man, you fucked your way into the Bureau. Captain Bilkes, no less.”
“What? Are you going to call me a faggot?”
Coop flashed him a dark smile. “Hardly. And I’m sure I suck cock better than you.”
Don thought he felt a heart attack hitting him, but he pushed through it. Damned if he was going to go from heart failure when he was minutes away from going out like a man. Execution-style in the line of duty. Dignified.
“I never pegged you --”
“For what? A fag?” He smiled again. “I’m a ladies man, son; don’t doubt it. But, every once in a while, it’s good to have a man around. None of that Hugh Grant, picking out curtains, talking about our feelings kind of shit.”
“Yeah. I suppose.”
“So I’ll see your homosexual repression and raise you a felony.”
Don cocked an eyebrow. “Felony?”
“Dirty Sean. Detroit ’97.”
“The crossfire killing?”
Coop winked. “Hardly. Put that mother fucker in, saw the son of a bitch out. He killed twelve kids, you know. Drug dealer, gang kingpin, murderer. Saw him across the street when the bullets started flying, took my chance.”
“You intentionally killed him?”
“Hell yes. Never regretted it, either. Miracle they didn’t take my gun and put me with the rest of the bastards.”
Don sat quietly, mauling things over.
“I win, don’t I?” Coop gloated. “We’re gonna die any moment here, and I’m gonna be the winner.”
He let Billy enjoy his self-congratulatory victory for a minute or two, the death-clocking ticking down; a heavy film of sweat covered their foreheads, backs, armpits, thighs, everywhere.
“I fucked my brother,” Don confessed, barely above a whisper. “It fucked him, and it was the best sex of my life.”
That was when backup had arrived, opening unexpected fire on the fugitives that had loaded up their cartel and were on their way to take care of the two agents in the back.
The Captain pat them on the back, telling them how lucky they were to be alive and ordering them both on mandatory two-week vacation.
*********
Now Billy rests against the edge of the desk, watching a quick wrist flicking as a hand draws equations across the board, thick curls bouncing with the velocity of his movements.
“And that’s how you’re going to catch your man,” Charlie says, pointing at the final solution.
Don watches Billy size up his brother, Charlie growing more restless than normal under their gazes. He glances uneasily from Billy to Don.
“What? Is there something I missed?” Charlie motions back to his work, a hand coming up to his face in contemplation.
“No, Charlie, it’s fine,” Don assures quickly, not because he knows the math is right but because he knows the math isn’t the reason for the heady stares.
“Then why are you guys looking at me like that?”
“Because I’m star-struck,” Billy croons in his gravelly bourbon voice. “I’m finally meeting the man behind the mystery.”