Animal Mother ficlet. R.
Title: What Is, and What's Not.
Claim: Various Adam Baldwin Characters
Fandom: Full Metal Jacket
Pairing, etc: Animal Mother
Prompt: #42 Relationships for smut_69 (although, this really has no smut so I wonder if it counts)
Word Count: 250
Rating: R for language and adult themes
Disclaimer: So not mine. Although, most of the time I do wish Animal Mother was.
Author's Notes: For fabledfigment
Animal Mother doesn’t do relationships.
But it’s not because he’s fucked in the head like his father is when it comes to interacting with women. He doesn’t see them all as selfish, money-grubbing whores. And, unlike most of his buddies, he has no inherent aversion to becoming attached, to living the American Dream with a wife, a dog and two-point-five kids. If anything he thinks that sometimes, especially when the sex is good and she doesn’t expect him to be something he’s not, doesn’t ask him for more than he is capable of giving, that maybe he gets too attached. But that’s still not the problem.
No, it’s the waking up in a panic, desperately reaching for a gun that’s not there. It’s him frantically wiping the sweat from his eyes as he searches the darkness for something to kill. It’s the sound of exploding mortar shells and the dying cries of the enemy that echo in his brain despite the stillness of a Midwestern summer night’s silence. It’s realizing that he’s not shivering in a filthy foxhole, not surrounded by the snores of bone-weary comrades, but nestled under soft covers in a bed that doesn’t stink of piss.
Mostly, though, it’s him resenting the willing body that snuggles against him for seeing past his faults enough to love him anyway; and it’s him hating himself for the yearning he feels, for the way he sometimes wishes things to be exactly like they were during his hellish days in Vietnam.
Claim: Various Adam Baldwin Characters
Fandom: Full Metal Jacket
Pairing, etc: Animal Mother
Prompt: #42 Relationships for smut_69 (although, this really has no smut so I wonder if it counts)
Word Count: 250
Rating: R for language and adult themes
Disclaimer: So not mine. Although, most of the time I do wish Animal Mother was.
Author's Notes: For fabledfigment
Animal Mother doesn’t do relationships.
But it’s not because he’s fucked in the head like his father is when it comes to interacting with women. He doesn’t see them all as selfish, money-grubbing whores. And, unlike most of his buddies, he has no inherent aversion to becoming attached, to living the American Dream with a wife, a dog and two-point-five kids. If anything he thinks that sometimes, especially when the sex is good and she doesn’t expect him to be something he’s not, doesn’t ask him for more than he is capable of giving, that maybe he gets too attached. But that’s still not the problem.
No, it’s the waking up in a panic, desperately reaching for a gun that’s not there. It’s him frantically wiping the sweat from his eyes as he searches the darkness for something to kill. It’s the sound of exploding mortar shells and the dying cries of the enemy that echo in his brain despite the stillness of a Midwestern summer night’s silence. It’s realizing that he’s not shivering in a filthy foxhole, not surrounded by the snores of bone-weary comrades, but nestled under soft covers in a bed that doesn’t stink of piss.
Mostly, though, it’s him resenting the willing body that snuggles against him for seeing past his faults enough to love him anyway; and it’s him hating himself for the yearning he feels, for the way he sometimes wishes things to be exactly like they were during his hellish days in Vietnam.