Ficlet Round Up | Comics
Title: BILLY IS A BAMF or HOW I STOPPED WORRYING AND LEARNED TO LOVE THE BLUE
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Young Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Billy Kaplan/Teddy Altman
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 600+
Contains: whump...ishness
Prompt: Mici asked for protective!Billy and "tell me what hurts" and I complied
::
Okay. So. That was actually like three walls, not just the one, and, hnnnn that certainly feels like a bus - or maybe a dumptruck? - under his back. Nnng. Teddy will wince, probably. In just a minute, when he can remember how, like, muscles move and stuff. He's pretty sure his face should go like-- Ah okay, no, moving is bad. Moving is really bad.
Teddy looks up, because he's at least mostly confident his eyes don't hurt. And...they don't. Would you look at that?
No, actually, really, look at that. There's a vaguely Billy shaped blur in the sky (and so no, maybe Teddy's aren't actually working totally properly right now, but they really don't hurt) and there's another personish thing dangling from his hands.
Teddy squints at them - ow ow ow bad idea - and before his head drops back against the rubble/bus/truck pile underneath him, Teddy's pretty sure he recognizes the second shape as the asshole who against all odds managed to throw him through the wall (three walls, his brain supplies helpfully) in the first place. Huh, Billy wasn't even around when that happened. How did he--
Suddenly, the sky flares blue, bright enough to make Teddy's eyes hurt if a) he wasn't already hurting worse in a million and four other places and 2) if he weren't not-so-secretly in awe of that paricular color, and how it relates to Billy. He wishes he could smile, because, damn, that's his boyfriend who can do that.
After other colors that are not blue return to the world, Teddy risks a quick scan of the sky. His back wrenches, and something feels like it tears, but he can't tell whether it's inside him or out. He cries out before he can help himself.
The thug is gone, and Billy is suddenly speeding towards him. The wind of his flight actually blows the hair back from Teddy's forehead before he even makes it to the pile. Teddy raises a hand to meet him, even though it feels like the movement ground several large rocks into the joint of his shoulder. His aim is off, he was going for Billy's face, but wound up somewhere near his bicep.
"Oh Jesus, oh fuck, Teddy," Billy's saying. He's hovering over Teddy, moving almost Tommy-fast back and forth over him. It's okay though.
Teddy tries to smile at him. "...g...uy?" he manages.
"Taken care of." Billy's face goes hard, tiny flares of blue flickering out of the corners of his eyes. Teddy loves that so much.
"S...saw. So...b...ass, Billy," Teddy says. More spots of pain are starting to make themselves known.
Billy laughs shakily. "Tell me where it hurts, Teddy."
Teddy's laugh comes out gravelly and rough, and makes it about two beats before it turns into a cough. "E-everywhere?"
"Shit," Billy says. "Want to go pound that guy again."
Teddy tries to touch Billy's face again; this time he makes it and he can even surpress the grimace. Good. Healing factor starting to kick in. "Save some for me...next time."
Billy pauses in pulling off his cape. He likes that cape so much, he must be really worried. Damn. Teddy likes it when he gets angry, not when he gets worried.
"Don't let some weakling take you out next time, and I will," Billy jokes pathetically, and tucks the balled up cape under Teddy's head.
"Billy? I...where'd you..send him?" Teddy says.
Billy shrugs. "Antarctica? Mt. Doom? I'll figure it out later." he smoothes his hands over Teddy's uniform. It feels really nice, even if it doesn't actually help at all.
"Heh, ir-irresponsible," Teddy says. "Even if-- if it did look super cool."
Billy just groans and drops his head lightly in the center of Teddy's chest. Teddy wants to stroke his hair. "Thanks, T," he says exasperatedly.
Teddy finally manages the smile. "Any time."
::fin::
Title:Heat
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Young Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Billy Kaplan/Teddy Altman
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 500+
Contains: 2nd person POV
Prompt: This picture because it is amazeballs.
::
The upholstery on the couch is old, synthetic. Prickly. You twitch your skin away from it, push out with your shoulder blades to arc up above it, to slide down. It's a move that's two parts avoidance to three parts long, languorous scratch, and you can't quite decide which direction you want to go. You slide again, you roll with your shoulders, you dig your head in. The sweat on your back makes the nap of the fabric catch, dragging goosebumps out across your stomach, like you're barely there and the fibers stand up right through you.
You hook your foot over the back of the couch like an anchor, like a statement, and squeeze with your calf i'm here.
The sun is pressing insistently through the blinds to mark out even warmer patches on your chest and thighs. God, it's so hot. The air is syrupy, heavy and wet, and oh so painfully still. You arch up again, again, fighting the weight.
Why did we come here? you try to say, your words scraping at the dryness in your mouth. The air is plump with moisture, fat droplets of it just waiting for a chance to burst, but your mouth is so dry.
To get away from the heat of the city, Teddy says, below you.
He moves forward, up, insinuating himself between your legs, and every place his skin touches yours it burns. Again, you don't know whether to move away or towards.
Your eyes turn towards the ceiling fan, its blades slowly whickering their way through the dust and the humidity and the summer that refuses to be beaten. Great plan, that, you say, and shift again.
Teddy moves with you, ducking and rasping against the heavy upholstery until he's completely tangled in your legs. Maybe you're moving slowly, maybe the heat is exerting so much pressure on you that you can't move your limbs as quicktight as you're used to, maybe it's just Teddy, and the gravitational pull he always exerts on you, but you can barely even react.
Teddy, no, it's too-- you gasp, flinching from the heat, but he silences you with the weight of his head on your ankle, gently knocking against the bone. He looks at you along the line of your own leg, and it's stronger than everything. His gaze is heavier than the air, more immobilizing than the heat, more insistent than the polyester fibers leaving millions of red marks down your spine.
Hey. Hey," he breathes, hey. His arm coils around your legs, an anchor, a statement. His fingers are on your thigh, suddenly, walking in the path of a bead of sweat. Or two. Or three. It's hard to tell with his fingers brushing tingling heat across your skin.
You close your eyes against his, the only control you can take. You make one more attempt at protest Not a piano, T, but your heart's not in it.
Hey, he says again, and his hand curling behind your knee is the only warmth you feel.
::fin::
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Young Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Billy Kaplan/Teddy Altman
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 600+
Contains: whump...ishness
Prompt: Mici asked for protective!Billy and "tell me what hurts" and I complied
::
Okay. So. That was actually like three walls, not just the one, and, hnnnn that certainly feels like a bus - or maybe a dumptruck? - under his back. Nnng. Teddy will wince, probably. In just a minute, when he can remember how, like, muscles move and stuff. He's pretty sure his face should go like-- Ah okay, no, moving is bad. Moving is really bad.
Teddy looks up, because he's at least mostly confident his eyes don't hurt. And...they don't. Would you look at that?
No, actually, really, look at that. There's a vaguely Billy shaped blur in the sky (and so no, maybe Teddy's aren't actually working totally properly right now, but they really don't hurt) and there's another personish thing dangling from his hands.
Teddy squints at them - ow ow ow bad idea - and before his head drops back against the rubble/bus/truck pile underneath him, Teddy's pretty sure he recognizes the second shape as the asshole who against all odds managed to throw him through the wall (three walls, his brain supplies helpfully) in the first place. Huh, Billy wasn't even around when that happened. How did he--
Suddenly, the sky flares blue, bright enough to make Teddy's eyes hurt if a) he wasn't already hurting worse in a million and four other places and 2) if he weren't not-so-secretly in awe of that paricular color, and how it relates to Billy. He wishes he could smile, because, damn, that's his boyfriend who can do that.
After other colors that are not blue return to the world, Teddy risks a quick scan of the sky. His back wrenches, and something feels like it tears, but he can't tell whether it's inside him or out. He cries out before he can help himself.
The thug is gone, and Billy is suddenly speeding towards him. The wind of his flight actually blows the hair back from Teddy's forehead before he even makes it to the pile. Teddy raises a hand to meet him, even though it feels like the movement ground several large rocks into the joint of his shoulder. His aim is off, he was going for Billy's face, but wound up somewhere near his bicep.
"Oh Jesus, oh fuck, Teddy," Billy's saying. He's hovering over Teddy, moving almost Tommy-fast back and forth over him. It's okay though.
Teddy tries to smile at him. "...g...uy?" he manages.
"Taken care of." Billy's face goes hard, tiny flares of blue flickering out of the corners of his eyes. Teddy loves that so much.
"S...saw. So...b...ass, Billy," Teddy says. More spots of pain are starting to make themselves known.
Billy laughs shakily. "Tell me where it hurts, Teddy."
Teddy's laugh comes out gravelly and rough, and makes it about two beats before it turns into a cough. "E-everywhere?"
"Shit," Billy says. "Want to go pound that guy again."
Teddy tries to touch Billy's face again; this time he makes it and he can even surpress the grimace. Good. Healing factor starting to kick in. "Save some for me...next time."
Billy pauses in pulling off his cape. He likes that cape so much, he must be really worried. Damn. Teddy likes it when he gets angry, not when he gets worried.
"Don't let some weakling take you out next time, and I will," Billy jokes pathetically, and tucks the balled up cape under Teddy's head.
"Billy? I...where'd you..send him?" Teddy says.
Billy shrugs. "Antarctica? Mt. Doom? I'll figure it out later." he smoothes his hands over Teddy's uniform. It feels really nice, even if it doesn't actually help at all.
"Heh, ir-irresponsible," Teddy says. "Even if-- if it did look super cool."
Billy just groans and drops his head lightly in the center of Teddy's chest. Teddy wants to stroke his hair. "Thanks, T," he says exasperatedly.
Teddy finally manages the smile. "Any time."
::fin::
Title:Heat
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Young Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Billy Kaplan/Teddy Altman
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 500+
Contains: 2nd person POV
Prompt: This picture because it is amazeballs.
::
The upholstery on the couch is old, synthetic. Prickly. You twitch your skin away from it, push out with your shoulder blades to arc up above it, to slide down. It's a move that's two parts avoidance to three parts long, languorous scratch, and you can't quite decide which direction you want to go. You slide again, you roll with your shoulders, you dig your head in. The sweat on your back makes the nap of the fabric catch, dragging goosebumps out across your stomach, like you're barely there and the fibers stand up right through you.
You hook your foot over the back of the couch like an anchor, like a statement, and squeeze with your calf i'm here.
The sun is pressing insistently through the blinds to mark out even warmer patches on your chest and thighs. God, it's so hot. The air is syrupy, heavy and wet, and oh so painfully still. You arch up again, again, fighting the weight.
Why did we come here? you try to say, your words scraping at the dryness in your mouth. The air is plump with moisture, fat droplets of it just waiting for a chance to burst, but your mouth is so dry.
To get away from the heat of the city, Teddy says, below you.
He moves forward, up, insinuating himself between your legs, and every place his skin touches yours it burns. Again, you don't know whether to move away or towards.
Your eyes turn towards the ceiling fan, its blades slowly whickering their way through the dust and the humidity and the summer that refuses to be beaten. Great plan, that, you say, and shift again.
Teddy moves with you, ducking and rasping against the heavy upholstery until he's completely tangled in your legs. Maybe you're moving slowly, maybe the heat is exerting so much pressure on you that you can't move your limbs as quicktight as you're used to, maybe it's just Teddy, and the gravitational pull he always exerts on you, but you can barely even react.
Teddy, no, it's too-- you gasp, flinching from the heat, but he silences you with the weight of his head on your ankle, gently knocking against the bone. He looks at you along the line of your own leg, and it's stronger than everything. His gaze is heavier than the air, more immobilizing than the heat, more insistent than the polyester fibers leaving millions of red marks down your spine.
Hey. Hey," he breathes, hey. His arm coils around your legs, an anchor, a statement. His fingers are on your thigh, suddenly, walking in the path of a bead of sweat. Or two. Or three. It's hard to tell with his fingers brushing tingling heat across your skin.
You close your eyes against his, the only control you can take. You make one more attempt at protest Not a piano, T, but your heart's not in it.
Hey, he says again, and his hand curling behind your knee is the only warmth you feel.
::fin::