ficlet
Title: Swing
Author: Aly
Pairing: Billie/Mike
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 491
Author's Note: I don't know why I keep knocking Mike up. I just tried writing something, and this is what came out.
I sleep on a broken porch swing. I barely remember it being anything but broken, although I do clearly recall the instance which provoked the rusted chains to detach from the roof. We hadn’t been living in the house for more than a week when Beej somehow got it in his head that porch swing sex would be glorious.
He’d obviously never had it.
I gathered all my unfaltering no’s and other wordless, groaning euphemisms for the tiny word, but he flat-out ignored me until a dejected yes passed through my lips. Then, all of a sudden, he was all ears and ready to pound me into oblivion with the raging hard-on I could spot throbbing in his jeans. Funny. I don’t remember actually saying yes, but I must have. I mean, it all happened so fast I hardly had the chance to brace myself.
It only took five minutes for the chains to up and quit, sending the pair of us plummeting to the ground. I screamed, but Billie failed to notice. He thought I’d climaxed and kept plugging away until he was spent. Only when he pulled out and pushed his mangled hair out of his eyes did he notice we were no longer hovering above ground. All he could do was smirk at me. His stupid, sloppy mesh of lips and teeth and sweat sent me to a dark place where I imagined ripping every single one of those misshapen, pearly yellows from his gaping skull. No anesthetic required, baby, that pain just means you’re still alive.
He wanted another go. I shivered and tried to abandon the dark place, but he kept on grinning, and I kept on picturing his teeth in a blender.
I found out I was pregnant three weeks later. I cried. Billie ran a victory lap around the grounded porch swing shouting to anyone within listening distance that we had, and I quote, successfully spawned. Not that anyone needed reminding. Our poor neighbors had been forced into front-row seats of our sickening display of newlywed lust.
Scratch that. Lust isn’t the right word. Love sure as shit doesn’t work either. We were just two dumb kids fucking, in broad daylight, on a moth-eaten porch swing.
Classy.
I tried fixing the swing once. What a fucking horrible idea that was. Beej came bounding out of the house about halfway through my efforts with those fiendish green eyes of his sparkling in impish delight. He took one look at my progress, giggled, and lunged into the stained cushions, simultaneously knocking me flat on my ass. His sudden weight compelled the porch swing to slam right back into the unforgiving concrete below. Two hours of attempted reconstruction was destroyed in five seconds flat.
The Billie Spawn inside me twisted itself into knots as I sat, wide-eyed, waiting for some sort of half-assed apology to come oozing through crooked teeth.
Instead, he grinned and asked, Having flashbacks?
***
Well...I'm back? Sort of. I dunno. I'm not sure how I feel about this one. I'm still trying to get back into the groove of writing XD
As always, this can be interpreted a couple different ways.
Thoughts?
Author: Aly
Pairing: Billie/Mike
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 491
Author's Note: I don't know why I keep knocking Mike up. I just tried writing something, and this is what came out.
I sleep on a broken porch swing. I barely remember it being anything but broken, although I do clearly recall the instance which provoked the rusted chains to detach from the roof. We hadn’t been living in the house for more than a week when Beej somehow got it in his head that porch swing sex would be glorious.
He’d obviously never had it.
I gathered all my unfaltering no’s and other wordless, groaning euphemisms for the tiny word, but he flat-out ignored me until a dejected yes passed through my lips. Then, all of a sudden, he was all ears and ready to pound me into oblivion with the raging hard-on I could spot throbbing in his jeans. Funny. I don’t remember actually saying yes, but I must have. I mean, it all happened so fast I hardly had the chance to brace myself.
It only took five minutes for the chains to up and quit, sending the pair of us plummeting to the ground. I screamed, but Billie failed to notice. He thought I’d climaxed and kept plugging away until he was spent. Only when he pulled out and pushed his mangled hair out of his eyes did he notice we were no longer hovering above ground. All he could do was smirk at me. His stupid, sloppy mesh of lips and teeth and sweat sent me to a dark place where I imagined ripping every single one of those misshapen, pearly yellows from his gaping skull. No anesthetic required, baby, that pain just means you’re still alive.
He wanted another go. I shivered and tried to abandon the dark place, but he kept on grinning, and I kept on picturing his teeth in a blender.
I found out I was pregnant three weeks later. I cried. Billie ran a victory lap around the grounded porch swing shouting to anyone within listening distance that we had, and I quote, successfully spawned. Not that anyone needed reminding. Our poor neighbors had been forced into front-row seats of our sickening display of newlywed lust.
Scratch that. Lust isn’t the right word. Love sure as shit doesn’t work either. We were just two dumb kids fucking, in broad daylight, on a moth-eaten porch swing.
Classy.
I tried fixing the swing once. What a fucking horrible idea that was. Beej came bounding out of the house about halfway through my efforts with those fiendish green eyes of his sparkling in impish delight. He took one look at my progress, giggled, and lunged into the stained cushions, simultaneously knocking me flat on my ass. His sudden weight compelled the porch swing to slam right back into the unforgiving concrete below. Two hours of attempted reconstruction was destroyed in five seconds flat.
The Billie Spawn inside me twisted itself into knots as I sat, wide-eyed, waiting for some sort of half-assed apology to come oozing through crooked teeth.
Instead, he grinned and asked, Having flashbacks?
***
Well...I'm back? Sort of. I dunno. I'm not sure how I feel about this one. I'm still trying to get back into the groove of writing XD
As always, this can be interpreted a couple different ways.
Thoughts?