Fic | Meet The Sunrise Out At The Horizon
Title: Meet The Sunrise Out At The Horizon
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Young Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Billy Kaplan/Teddy Altman, Kate Bishop, Eli Bradley, Tommy Shepherd
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~3300
Summary: Billy blows through the door, drops his bag and his helmet to the floor, and tips, board-like, face first over the arm of the sofa. "Is this week over yet?" he mumbles into the cushions.
A/N: riko prompted me with "We're just impatient for Fridays." which turned (as it does) into this, aka Riko gets me to write silly domestic fic, 472nd verse, same as the first, aka Billy Attempts to Smother Himself A Lot And Also Teddy Does It Once, aka WHAT IS THIS EVEN. Fluffier than a Persian cat or a dog dressed as Amaterasu and with less nutritional value than a butter and brown sugar sandwich. APOLOGIES TO EVERYONE FORCED TO SHARE THIS PLANET WITH ME.
Title from Accidntel Deth by Rilo Kiley
::
SUNDAY
Billy flops to the side, gasping, sweaty, and pushes his hair back off his forehead.
"Nng," he pants, "I almost, kind of, want to take up smoking right now. Damn."
Teddy rolls to his side of the bed and gropes for a hastily discarded t-shirt and one of their pillows. The one he uses to wipe down his stomach, the other he smacks down on Billy's face. "You are so dumb," he says as Billy sputters through a mouthful of fabric and feathers.
"And you are such a mood killer," Billy says once he's gotten the pillow rearranged properly under his head.
"Yup, that's me, Teddy Altman, Professional Mood Killer, Esq.," Teddy says, foregoing his own pillows to use Billy's chest as one instead, as he does more often than Billy would really care to think about. (He used to try to get Teddy to stop, but apparently Teddy was hiding the ability to increase his own gravity and Billy was forced to give it up as a lost cause. Now, Billy just sighs pointedly and claims the lion's share of pillow-booty for himself. Teddy's loss is 100% Billy's gain, thank you very much.) Teddy completes his settling in by throwing an arm across Billy's body to pinch lightly along his ribs. "Taking appointments Sunday through Thursday, 8 to 11 pm."
"Urgh, why," is all Billy can come up with, brain still pleasantly mushy and relaxed.
"Shhhh, sleep," Teddy says in reply and kisses Billy's sternum.
"What time's it anyway," Billy says, idly carding his fingers through Teddy's hair. The horrible white noise alarm clock Cassie bought them two years ago for Chanukah-mas is positioned at entirely the wrong angle for him to see like this (semi-on purpose: Billy's griping about the clock apparently annoys Teddy far more than the actual clock), but after a minute or two of wriggling he manages to crane his neck around enough to catch a glimpse of it. He then proceeds to pull the pillow back out from under his head so he can attempt to smother himself with it.
"Mmmmmpf mrrrgle mmmmmmmmmmfffff!" is all he says until Teddy manages to wrestle the pillow away from him, letting in oxygen.
"I have to get up for work in six hours," Billy says and tries to steal the pillow back. "Let me die."
"I prefer you alive, actually," Teddy says. He props himself up, hands bracketing Billy's chest, and kisses Billy on the nose. "So instead of suffocation, let's try sleep."
Billy grabs Teddy's shoulders and looks him dead in the eye with all the solemnity he can muster. "Why do Mondays exist?" he says.
Teddy just rolls his eyes. "Because the universe likes it when you suffer."
"At last, proof!" Billy says, and he knows it hits its mark because Teddy huffs a laugh into the side of his neck.
"Seriously, go to sleep." Teddy manhandles Billy lower on the bed before reaching down to pull the sheet up over them both. "Every minute you're awake now will make it that much worse tomorrow," he says as he settles back into using Billy like a pillow. His breath tickles in an annoying but absolutely essential way.
"Hmph," Billy says as Teddy's breathing evens out, because of course he knows that Teddy's totally right, but he's also got a bit of a nice grouch working up that he doesn't want to lose. Not that it'll be as much fun if Teddy's going to sleep through it. These things are really better with audiences. So in the end, he glares one last dagger at the clock, not really willing it to explode, even though he could. Then he turns away from it, angling his body slightly into Teddy's, and finally closes his eyes.
::
MONDAY
Billy blows through the door, drops his bag and his helmet to the floor, and tips, board-like, face first over the arm of the sofa.
"Is this week over yet?" he mumbles into the cushions.
"Okay, this is going to be a great week," Teddy says. There are some shuffling noises and the sound of a door that are probably Teddy hanging up Billy's bag on the hook Billy rarely remembers to use and tossing his helmet into the closet.
"Don't even trying to tell me you don't want it to be Friday as much as I do," Billy says, heaving himself awkwardly over onto his back so he can kick his shoes off.
"I didn't say I don't," Teddy says, then pauses when Billy raises an eyebrow at him. He just shrugs and picks up Billy's ankles so he can perch where they were on the sofa's arm. "It's just that generally it takes until at least Wednesday morning before I get this particular complaint, usually via text message. The couch cushion delivery system is new."
"Yeah, well, I am especially regretting my choice of career today," Billy says, scrubbing a hand over his face.
"Ah, fanboy's regret," Teddy says, making a tsk noise with his tongue. He folds Billy's legs the rest of the way over so he can slide down on the sofa like a normal person and Billy wedges his socked feet under Teddy's thigh in retaliation. "Living the dream not all it's cracked up to be?"
"It's just," Billy says, hands cutting through the air above his face in a way he couldn't stop even if he wanted to, "I have to listen to these pitch meetings. And I can't say anything. And every meeting I'm like, That's wrong, no, no, inaccurate, no, have you even ever seen someone fly, no, wrong, wrong, wrong." He drops his hands to his face. "And when I do say something about Things Not Working That Way, no one cares, because ha ha intern."
"The irony of them having an actual superhero consultant in their midst and ignoring him because they don't even know it is pretty great, you have to admit," Teddy says, lips quirking.
Billy snorts and stretches his legs out over Teddy's lap. "Ah, the heavy burden of anonymity. Curse Kate and her finally forcing me into a mask! What a terrible plan that was!"
At this Teddy finally starts to laugh, deep and satisfied, shoulders shaking. "Damn her for ruining your dreams by making you make extremely wise life choices."
"Look, if you're going to mock me, I'm not going to share the sushi I brought home," Billy says with his most practiced glare.
"What a shame," Teddy says, leaning into Billy's space, "I guess then I'll have to drink all the beer I brought home."
"I hate your alien metabolism, because you'd actually do that." Billy heaves an overly dramatic sigh. "Fine. Xbox?"
"Sounds good to me."
Billy pushes Teddy back so he can stand. "I'll get the food, you set it up."
He grabs the take-out boxes from his bag, hearing the familiar start-up whssshding in the background, and digs into the fridge for the six-pack. He doesn't bother with chopsticks, deeming them too complicated in conjunction with video games. Fingers'll do, he's not proud.
When he gets back to the sofa, Teddy's ready, offering him a controller in exchange for half the food loot. He shoves Teddy over to get to his favorite cushion and begins the process of juggling food, beverage, and overly-large plastic device without spilling on himself.
Teddy cracks the bottles while he settles in and passes him one once everything's mostly balanced. "Hi," Teddy says and leans over to kiss the corner of Billy's mouth. "Just four more days, right?"
::
TUESDAY
"You know, I am retroactively absurdly grateful for my parents' dishwasher," Billy says as he rinses another plate and places it in the strainer. "I thought doing dishes was bad when I had it. Little did I know."
"Well I'm just grateful my mom instilled in me the value of actually doing dishes every night," Teddy says from where he's sitting on the counter next to the sink, "or else I'm pretty sure we'd be living in a forest of dirty dishes the like of which has never been seen on Earth." He hands Billy a bowl. "The dirty clothes are bad enough."
"Look, okay, dish duty is what younger brothers are for," Billy says. "And anyway, I don't want to hear it, Mr. I Am The Best At Cleaning. I've actually been meaning to say: if jello is going to be a thing that happens? You have to soak that stuff immediately. It seriously turns to glue."
Billy sees Teddy cock his head to the side out of the corner of his eye. He smirks and takes the coffee mug out of Teddy's puzzled fingers.
"I...did not know that," Teddy says finally.
"Neither did I," Billy says. "I had to magic it out."
"Sorry." Teddy ducks his head in a sort of helplessly adorable way.
"Yeah, well, just be glad you make a mean cup of coffee, or I might not be inclined towards forgiveness." Billy flicks a little soapy water at Teddy's hip when Teddy mimes clutching at his heart and swooning. "I'm almost finished here; why don't you go lie down and find something to watch?"
Teddy sketches off a quick salute before hopping off the counter and going off to find the remote.
There really are only a few more dishes, and Billy's just wiped off the last fork and is drying his hands when Teddy calls out, "Mansquito is on?"
Billy turns and tosses the towel at him. "We have literally seen Mansquito four hundred times, how about no."
"Fine," Teddy says, with the pout of a man who really has a need for a half-man, half-mosquito, "you find something then."
Billy crosses over to him, shedding his jeans along the way, and slides onto the couch under Teddy's head. "So gracious," he says, taking the remote.
He flips through the channels for a while, skipping past The Sound of Music (even though they'd be coming in at the best part) out of consideration for Teddy's feelings and out of a profound desire to skip the kvetching. And it's not like it's so bad, just sitting, watching seventeen channels at once and running his fingers through Teddy's fringe.
He's still flipping a few minutes later (deciding whether or not he really wants to watch the Mets get beaten into the ground) when Teddy says from his thigh, "Your pants are buzzing."
"Get it for me," Billy says with a prod at Teddy's head.
"You get it," Teddy replies, "they're your pants."
Billy floats the pants over - because, let's face it, he is way too lazy and way too comfy to try to get up - and digs his phone out of the pocket.
"Hmmm?" Teddy hums in a way that means What is it?
"Text from Kate," he replies. He scrolls down the block of text and -
"Oh no."
"What?"
"Think Kate will know if I claim to have never gotten this text?" Billy says.
Teddy nuzzles his knee. "You are a terrible liar, so yes. Why, what is it?"
"She wants us to escort her to some benefit next week," Billy says.
Billy knows that most people would tear off one of their own limbs in order to get an invite to one of these high society functions. That, or murder someone on the pap line at the entrance. But Billy hates the damn monkey suits a lot and he hates rubbing elbows with the cast of The Real Housewives of New York wannabes even more.
Luckily, Teddy shares these views. He rolls over immediately, mashing his face into Billy's stomach and letting out a gurgle of nonsense syllables.
"Sometimes I worry I'm rubbing off on you in all the wrong ways," Billy mutters.
"Do we have to?" Teddy says, somewhat more intelligibly.
"Do you want to take it up with Kate?"
"It's just," Teddy says, rolling onto his back, "we have so little time during the week as it is. Why can't Eli go? Or Tommy?"
Billy hasn't stopped staring blankly at his phone, hoping that maybe the message has changed. "Well, apparently, last time Eli got into some huge argument-"
Teddy raises both eyebrows to his hairline.
Billy snorts. "Big surprise, right? No, but he started this huge thing at the last one Kate brought him to; apparently he cornered some blue blood and started haranguing him over his corporation's hiring policies and financial, and I quote, 'skullduggery'."
Teddy runs a hand over his face. "You know, he never mentions these things when we get together."
"I'm surprised he doesn't like showing off his ability to use skullduggery in a sentence," Billy says.
"I take it Tommy can't go because he's, well, Tommy?"
Billy says, "Got it in one," and tips his head back against the couch.
Teddy groans again and Billy can't help but echo him.
"What are we going to do?" Teddy says finally, and that's when Billy's phone buzzes again, because Kate seriously must be psychic. Or at least must know them really well.
"What is it?" Teddy says, turning over and propping himself up on his elbow.
"She says there's an open bar," Billy says.
Teddy doesn't say a word, just gets up off the couch and heads over to their closet, burrowing almost all the way to the back.
"What are you doing?" Billy says.
"I'm getting out our tuxedos, obviously," Teddy says, his voice slightly muffled by winter coats. "Ask Kate what time we'll need to be there."
::
WEDNESDAY
Around eleven, Billy's pocket chimes with a new text. It's at about the worst possible time, when Billy is juggling a stack of files larger than his head, someone's portfolio, and his third cup of coffee for the morning. With all that, it takes him a minute to get two fingers into his pocket to tweeze out his phone. It's actually kind of a miracle that he drops neither phone nor files nor portfolio in the process.
i can haz friday?
is all the text says, and Billy would snort if not for the paper cup of scalding coffee clenched between his teeth.
As it is, Billy types back one handed, files wedged under one arm and portfolio balanced between his knees.
Your idiosyncratic conjugation does not amuse
he sends, and blesses the inventor of auto-correct.
He doesn't get a reply for several minutes, which is good because it allows him to dump the files on the admin's desk with an apologetic smile, run the portfolio to the art department, and drink enough of his coffee that the liquid level is no longer in immediate danger of spillage.
This time it's just an image,
annoybilly1.jpg
waiting for him to enlarge it.
When he does, he sits and laughs and bangs his head on the desk, just once.
Just two more days, T. Two
::
THURSDAY
So much for a nice, quiet lunch, Billy thinks, putting down his sandwich and meeting Teddy's eyes across the table.
Not even a minute before, Tommy had come speeding past the deli, yelling "Sorrybrosdatetime'sgottawaitwe'vegotasituation," before taking off down the street and leaving about half the people on the sidewalk coated in a light veneer of summer dust.
Now Billy sees Kate and Vision following in Tommy's direction, and yup, that's the end of this lunch. She looks over at them and tilts her head like Let's go while Teddy drops a couple of twenties on the table and Billy paws around for his phone in hopes he can figure out a way to explain to the office why his half hour lunch may well turn into 'gone for the rest of the day.'
It doesn't take long for either of them to get to an alley and get into their costumes (thank you magic and shapeshifting) and they're up in the air and on their way in about three minutes. They outstrip Kate and Vision along the way, but they know the general direction.
"What do you think it's going to be this time?" Teddy says to cover the sound of his stomach rumbling for his forgotten turkey club. "Hydra? Alien caterpillars? Swarm aga-"
"I think it's that," Billy says, and points.
They might have passed Kate and Vision on the street, but Eli and Tommy have already made it to the scene and are fighting something that looks like it...can't really be fought. It smells overwhelmingly like sewage, even from five stories above, and, well. It's kind of making Billy think of that peculiar cornstarch and water mixture he used to play with as a kid: it pools around Tommy and Eli's feet easily enough, but every time they try to hit it their fists smack off with enough weirdly gelatinous force to send them bouncing backwards. It also keeps sending out gloopy tentacle-blobs to grab erratically at nearby mailboxes and telephone poles and hurl them in seemingly random directions.
"Heh," Teddy says, "it kind of reminds me of Morpha. You know, from the Water Temple."
Billy scowls. "Well, I forgot my hookshot this morning, so we may be kind of screwed."
"If you're finished?" Eli shouts up from- well, not the ground, actually, but from where he's dangling upside down from one of tentacles, goo oozing slowly down his boot.
"I really, really, hate this week," Billy says and flies down there to get Eli out.
In the end, given the way they can't really fight slime, and also the way the thing really does seem to be doing more panicked flailing than actual attacking, the six of them manage to cobble together enough debris to form something that resembles an over-sized petri dish and contain the creature inside it. Surprisingly, this actually seems to calm it down (bubbles do erupt on its surface every so often, but at least they aren't tentacles) and keep it calm long enough for Dr. Strange to arrive and coax it back to whatever dimension it had accidentally slipped out of. It's a nice change of pace to have to deal with something that's just lost and scared rather than intentionally malicious, but they're still all coated with awful smelling slime and when Billy fishes out his phone he's got six missed calls and one incredibly angry sounding email waiting for him.
He is not feeling very positive.
"So, post-monster drink?" Tommy says, and Billy is too frustrated to even laugh at the expression on his face when Kate and Eli each take hold of an arm and drag him away.
"Looks like I have to go back in," Billy says. "Assuming I want to keep this job."
Teddy smiles and wipes a bit of slime out of Billy's eyebrow. "I thought you didn't."
"Yeah well, I am a fan of eating, so." Billy waves a hand over himself to get back to his thankfully slime-less civvies. "Goes without saying I'll be back late."
"I'll keep the bed warm," Teddy says.
"Hrrrghlle," Billy says. He mashes his face against Teddy's shoulder. "I'll be there."
::
FRIDAY
Teddy is already home when Billy gets in, already face down on the couch, bare toes wedged between the cushions. He groans when Billy drapes himself over his back.
"Mmmm, hi," he mumbles into the cushions.
"Hi," Billy says into his hair. He kind of feels like he could just melt right here, fuse with Teddy and the couch and never move again.
"It's finally Friday," Teddy says. Billy nods his agreement against the back of Teddy's neck.
Teddy pulls his feet out of the couch to lock around one of Billy's ankles. "We could go out, catch a show, paint the town red."
Billy grumbles, then grumbles some more when Teddy laughs underneath him, making everything vibrate and disturb his equilibrium.
"We could see our friends," Teddy offers. "See them when not covered in slime, I mean."
As tempting as that is... "Or we could just stay in," Billy says, wriggling his fingers against the cushions until he can wrap an arm around Teddy's middle.
Teddy pauses for a moment, like he's chewing this over. "I think Frankenfish is on," he says finally.
"I'll make the popcorn," Billy says and kisses the back of Teddy's ear.
Teddy shrugs his shoulders back. "You know, you actually have to get up to do that."
"Some people do," Billy mutters, and in a second there's a rattle-clang from the kitchen as a pot thumps itself down on the stove and fills itself with corn kernels.
"Seriously, though," Billy says once the heat is on, "are we the most pathetic people in existence for being too tired to actually do anything when we finally have some free time?"
"Nah," Teddy says and reaches back to tangle his fingers with Billy's. "There's always Saturday."
::fin::
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Young Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Billy Kaplan/Teddy Altman, Kate Bishop, Eli Bradley, Tommy Shepherd
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~3300
Summary: Billy blows through the door, drops his bag and his helmet to the floor, and tips, board-like, face first over the arm of the sofa. "Is this week over yet?" he mumbles into the cushions.
A/N: riko prompted me with "We're just impatient for Fridays." which turned (as it does) into this, aka Riko gets me to write silly domestic fic, 472nd verse, same as the first, aka Billy Attempts to Smother Himself A Lot And Also Teddy Does It Once, aka WHAT IS THIS EVEN. Fluffier than a Persian cat or a dog dressed as Amaterasu and with less nutritional value than a butter and brown sugar sandwich. APOLOGIES TO EVERYONE FORCED TO SHARE THIS PLANET WITH ME.
Title from Accidntel Deth by Rilo Kiley
::
SUNDAY
Billy flops to the side, gasping, sweaty, and pushes his hair back off his forehead.
"Nng," he pants, "I almost, kind of, want to take up smoking right now. Damn."
Teddy rolls to his side of the bed and gropes for a hastily discarded t-shirt and one of their pillows. The one he uses to wipe down his stomach, the other he smacks down on Billy's face. "You are so dumb," he says as Billy sputters through a mouthful of fabric and feathers.
"And you are such a mood killer," Billy says once he's gotten the pillow rearranged properly under his head.
"Yup, that's me, Teddy Altman, Professional Mood Killer, Esq.," Teddy says, foregoing his own pillows to use Billy's chest as one instead, as he does more often than Billy would really care to think about. (He used to try to get Teddy to stop, but apparently Teddy was hiding the ability to increase his own gravity and Billy was forced to give it up as a lost cause. Now, Billy just sighs pointedly and claims the lion's share of pillow-booty for himself. Teddy's loss is 100% Billy's gain, thank you very much.) Teddy completes his settling in by throwing an arm across Billy's body to pinch lightly along his ribs. "Taking appointments Sunday through Thursday, 8 to 11 pm."
"Urgh, why," is all Billy can come up with, brain still pleasantly mushy and relaxed.
"Shhhh, sleep," Teddy says in reply and kisses Billy's sternum.
"What time's it anyway," Billy says, idly carding his fingers through Teddy's hair. The horrible white noise alarm clock Cassie bought them two years ago for Chanukah-mas is positioned at entirely the wrong angle for him to see like this (semi-on purpose: Billy's griping about the clock apparently annoys Teddy far more than the actual clock), but after a minute or two of wriggling he manages to crane his neck around enough to catch a glimpse of it. He then proceeds to pull the pillow back out from under his head so he can attempt to smother himself with it.
"Mmmmmpf mrrrgle mmmmmmmmmmfffff!" is all he says until Teddy manages to wrestle the pillow away from him, letting in oxygen.
"I have to get up for work in six hours," Billy says and tries to steal the pillow back. "Let me die."
"I prefer you alive, actually," Teddy says. He props himself up, hands bracketing Billy's chest, and kisses Billy on the nose. "So instead of suffocation, let's try sleep."
Billy grabs Teddy's shoulders and looks him dead in the eye with all the solemnity he can muster. "Why do Mondays exist?" he says.
Teddy just rolls his eyes. "Because the universe likes it when you suffer."
"At last, proof!" Billy says, and he knows it hits its mark because Teddy huffs a laugh into the side of his neck.
"Seriously, go to sleep." Teddy manhandles Billy lower on the bed before reaching down to pull the sheet up over them both. "Every minute you're awake now will make it that much worse tomorrow," he says as he settles back into using Billy like a pillow. His breath tickles in an annoying but absolutely essential way.
"Hmph," Billy says as Teddy's breathing evens out, because of course he knows that Teddy's totally right, but he's also got a bit of a nice grouch working up that he doesn't want to lose. Not that it'll be as much fun if Teddy's going to sleep through it. These things are really better with audiences. So in the end, he glares one last dagger at the clock, not really willing it to explode, even though he could. Then he turns away from it, angling his body slightly into Teddy's, and finally closes his eyes.
::
MONDAY
Billy blows through the door, drops his bag and his helmet to the floor, and tips, board-like, face first over the arm of the sofa.
"Is this week over yet?" he mumbles into the cushions.
"Okay, this is going to be a great week," Teddy says. There are some shuffling noises and the sound of a door that are probably Teddy hanging up Billy's bag on the hook Billy rarely remembers to use and tossing his helmet into the closet.
"Don't even trying to tell me you don't want it to be Friday as much as I do," Billy says, heaving himself awkwardly over onto his back so he can kick his shoes off.
"I didn't say I don't," Teddy says, then pauses when Billy raises an eyebrow at him. He just shrugs and picks up Billy's ankles so he can perch where they were on the sofa's arm. "It's just that generally it takes until at least Wednesday morning before I get this particular complaint, usually via text message. The couch cushion delivery system is new."
"Yeah, well, I am especially regretting my choice of career today," Billy says, scrubbing a hand over his face.
"Ah, fanboy's regret," Teddy says, making a tsk noise with his tongue. He folds Billy's legs the rest of the way over so he can slide down on the sofa like a normal person and Billy wedges his socked feet under Teddy's thigh in retaliation. "Living the dream not all it's cracked up to be?"
"It's just," Billy says, hands cutting through the air above his face in a way he couldn't stop even if he wanted to, "I have to listen to these pitch meetings. And I can't say anything. And every meeting I'm like, That's wrong, no, no, inaccurate, no, have you even ever seen someone fly, no, wrong, wrong, wrong." He drops his hands to his face. "And when I do say something about Things Not Working That Way, no one cares, because ha ha intern."
"The irony of them having an actual superhero consultant in their midst and ignoring him because they don't even know it is pretty great, you have to admit," Teddy says, lips quirking.
Billy snorts and stretches his legs out over Teddy's lap. "Ah, the heavy burden of anonymity. Curse Kate and her finally forcing me into a mask! What a terrible plan that was!"
At this Teddy finally starts to laugh, deep and satisfied, shoulders shaking. "Damn her for ruining your dreams by making you make extremely wise life choices."
"Look, if you're going to mock me, I'm not going to share the sushi I brought home," Billy says with his most practiced glare.
"What a shame," Teddy says, leaning into Billy's space, "I guess then I'll have to drink all the beer I brought home."
"I hate your alien metabolism, because you'd actually do that." Billy heaves an overly dramatic sigh. "Fine. Xbox?"
"Sounds good to me."
Billy pushes Teddy back so he can stand. "I'll get the food, you set it up."
He grabs the take-out boxes from his bag, hearing the familiar start-up whssshding in the background, and digs into the fridge for the six-pack. He doesn't bother with chopsticks, deeming them too complicated in conjunction with video games. Fingers'll do, he's not proud.
When he gets back to the sofa, Teddy's ready, offering him a controller in exchange for half the food loot. He shoves Teddy over to get to his favorite cushion and begins the process of juggling food, beverage, and overly-large plastic device without spilling on himself.
Teddy cracks the bottles while he settles in and passes him one once everything's mostly balanced. "Hi," Teddy says and leans over to kiss the corner of Billy's mouth. "Just four more days, right?"
::
TUESDAY
"You know, I am retroactively absurdly grateful for my parents' dishwasher," Billy says as he rinses another plate and places it in the strainer. "I thought doing dishes was bad when I had it. Little did I know."
"Well I'm just grateful my mom instilled in me the value of actually doing dishes every night," Teddy says from where he's sitting on the counter next to the sink, "or else I'm pretty sure we'd be living in a forest of dirty dishes the like of which has never been seen on Earth." He hands Billy a bowl. "The dirty clothes are bad enough."
"Look, okay, dish duty is what younger brothers are for," Billy says. "And anyway, I don't want to hear it, Mr. I Am The Best At Cleaning. I've actually been meaning to say: if jello is going to be a thing that happens? You have to soak that stuff immediately. It seriously turns to glue."
Billy sees Teddy cock his head to the side out of the corner of his eye. He smirks and takes the coffee mug out of Teddy's puzzled fingers.
"I...did not know that," Teddy says finally.
"Neither did I," Billy says. "I had to magic it out."
"Sorry." Teddy ducks his head in a sort of helplessly adorable way.
"Yeah, well, just be glad you make a mean cup of coffee, or I might not be inclined towards forgiveness." Billy flicks a little soapy water at Teddy's hip when Teddy mimes clutching at his heart and swooning. "I'm almost finished here; why don't you go lie down and find something to watch?"
Teddy sketches off a quick salute before hopping off the counter and going off to find the remote.
There really are only a few more dishes, and Billy's just wiped off the last fork and is drying his hands when Teddy calls out, "Mansquito is on?"
Billy turns and tosses the towel at him. "We have literally seen Mansquito four hundred times, how about no."
"Fine," Teddy says, with the pout of a man who really has a need for a half-man, half-mosquito, "you find something then."
Billy crosses over to him, shedding his jeans along the way, and slides onto the couch under Teddy's head. "So gracious," he says, taking the remote.
He flips through the channels for a while, skipping past The Sound of Music (even though they'd be coming in at the best part) out of consideration for Teddy's feelings and out of a profound desire to skip the kvetching. And it's not like it's so bad, just sitting, watching seventeen channels at once and running his fingers through Teddy's fringe.
He's still flipping a few minutes later (deciding whether or not he really wants to watch the Mets get beaten into the ground) when Teddy says from his thigh, "Your pants are buzzing."
"Get it for me," Billy says with a prod at Teddy's head.
"You get it," Teddy replies, "they're your pants."
Billy floats the pants over - because, let's face it, he is way too lazy and way too comfy to try to get up - and digs his phone out of the pocket.
"Hmmm?" Teddy hums in a way that means What is it?
"Text from Kate," he replies. He scrolls down the block of text and -
"Oh no."
"What?"
"Think Kate will know if I claim to have never gotten this text?" Billy says.
Teddy nuzzles his knee. "You are a terrible liar, so yes. Why, what is it?"
"She wants us to escort her to some benefit next week," Billy says.
Billy knows that most people would tear off one of their own limbs in order to get an invite to one of these high society functions. That, or murder someone on the pap line at the entrance. But Billy hates the damn monkey suits a lot and he hates rubbing elbows with the cast of The Real Housewives of New York wannabes even more.
Luckily, Teddy shares these views. He rolls over immediately, mashing his face into Billy's stomach and letting out a gurgle of nonsense syllables.
"Sometimes I worry I'm rubbing off on you in all the wrong ways," Billy mutters.
"Do we have to?" Teddy says, somewhat more intelligibly.
"Do you want to take it up with Kate?"
"It's just," Teddy says, rolling onto his back, "we have so little time during the week as it is. Why can't Eli go? Or Tommy?"
Billy hasn't stopped staring blankly at his phone, hoping that maybe the message has changed. "Well, apparently, last time Eli got into some huge argument-"
Teddy raises both eyebrows to his hairline.
Billy snorts. "Big surprise, right? No, but he started this huge thing at the last one Kate brought him to; apparently he cornered some blue blood and started haranguing him over his corporation's hiring policies and financial, and I quote, 'skullduggery'."
Teddy runs a hand over his face. "You know, he never mentions these things when we get together."
"I'm surprised he doesn't like showing off his ability to use skullduggery in a sentence," Billy says.
"I take it Tommy can't go because he's, well, Tommy?"
Billy says, "Got it in one," and tips his head back against the couch.
Teddy groans again and Billy can't help but echo him.
"What are we going to do?" Teddy says finally, and that's when Billy's phone buzzes again, because Kate seriously must be psychic. Or at least must know them really well.
"What is it?" Teddy says, turning over and propping himself up on his elbow.
"She says there's an open bar," Billy says.
Teddy doesn't say a word, just gets up off the couch and heads over to their closet, burrowing almost all the way to the back.
"What are you doing?" Billy says.
"I'm getting out our tuxedos, obviously," Teddy says, his voice slightly muffled by winter coats. "Ask Kate what time we'll need to be there."
::
WEDNESDAY
Around eleven, Billy's pocket chimes with a new text. It's at about the worst possible time, when Billy is juggling a stack of files larger than his head, someone's portfolio, and his third cup of coffee for the morning. With all that, it takes him a minute to get two fingers into his pocket to tweeze out his phone. It's actually kind of a miracle that he drops neither phone nor files nor portfolio in the process.
i can haz friday?
is all the text says, and Billy would snort if not for the paper cup of scalding coffee clenched between his teeth.
As it is, Billy types back one handed, files wedged under one arm and portfolio balanced between his knees.
Your idiosyncratic conjugation does not amuse
he sends, and blesses the inventor of auto-correct.
He doesn't get a reply for several minutes, which is good because it allows him to dump the files on the admin's desk with an apologetic smile, run the portfolio to the art department, and drink enough of his coffee that the liquid level is no longer in immediate danger of spillage.
This time it's just an image,
annoybilly1.jpg
waiting for him to enlarge it.
When he does, he sits and laughs and bangs his head on the desk, just once.
Just two more days, T. Two
::
THURSDAY
So much for a nice, quiet lunch, Billy thinks, putting down his sandwich and meeting Teddy's eyes across the table.
Not even a minute before, Tommy had come speeding past the deli, yelling "Sorrybrosdatetime'sgottawaitwe'vegotasituation," before taking off down the street and leaving about half the people on the sidewalk coated in a light veneer of summer dust.
Now Billy sees Kate and Vision following in Tommy's direction, and yup, that's the end of this lunch. She looks over at them and tilts her head like Let's go while Teddy drops a couple of twenties on the table and Billy paws around for his phone in hopes he can figure out a way to explain to the office why his half hour lunch may well turn into 'gone for the rest of the day.'
It doesn't take long for either of them to get to an alley and get into their costumes (thank you magic and shapeshifting) and they're up in the air and on their way in about three minutes. They outstrip Kate and Vision along the way, but they know the general direction.
"What do you think it's going to be this time?" Teddy says to cover the sound of his stomach rumbling for his forgotten turkey club. "Hydra? Alien caterpillars? Swarm aga-"
"I think it's that," Billy says, and points.
They might have passed Kate and Vision on the street, but Eli and Tommy have already made it to the scene and are fighting something that looks like it...can't really be fought. It smells overwhelmingly like sewage, even from five stories above, and, well. It's kind of making Billy think of that peculiar cornstarch and water mixture he used to play with as a kid: it pools around Tommy and Eli's feet easily enough, but every time they try to hit it their fists smack off with enough weirdly gelatinous force to send them bouncing backwards. It also keeps sending out gloopy tentacle-blobs to grab erratically at nearby mailboxes and telephone poles and hurl them in seemingly random directions.
"Heh," Teddy says, "it kind of reminds me of Morpha. You know, from the Water Temple."
Billy scowls. "Well, I forgot my hookshot this morning, so we may be kind of screwed."
"If you're finished?" Eli shouts up from- well, not the ground, actually, but from where he's dangling upside down from one of tentacles, goo oozing slowly down his boot.
"I really, really, hate this week," Billy says and flies down there to get Eli out.
In the end, given the way they can't really fight slime, and also the way the thing really does seem to be doing more panicked flailing than actual attacking, the six of them manage to cobble together enough debris to form something that resembles an over-sized petri dish and contain the creature inside it. Surprisingly, this actually seems to calm it down (bubbles do erupt on its surface every so often, but at least they aren't tentacles) and keep it calm long enough for Dr. Strange to arrive and coax it back to whatever dimension it had accidentally slipped out of. It's a nice change of pace to have to deal with something that's just lost and scared rather than intentionally malicious, but they're still all coated with awful smelling slime and when Billy fishes out his phone he's got six missed calls and one incredibly angry sounding email waiting for him.
He is not feeling very positive.
"So, post-monster drink?" Tommy says, and Billy is too frustrated to even laugh at the expression on his face when Kate and Eli each take hold of an arm and drag him away.
"Looks like I have to go back in," Billy says. "Assuming I want to keep this job."
Teddy smiles and wipes a bit of slime out of Billy's eyebrow. "I thought you didn't."
"Yeah well, I am a fan of eating, so." Billy waves a hand over himself to get back to his thankfully slime-less civvies. "Goes without saying I'll be back late."
"I'll keep the bed warm," Teddy says.
"Hrrrghlle," Billy says. He mashes his face against Teddy's shoulder. "I'll be there."
::
FRIDAY
Teddy is already home when Billy gets in, already face down on the couch, bare toes wedged between the cushions. He groans when Billy drapes himself over his back.
"Mmmm, hi," he mumbles into the cushions.
"Hi," Billy says into his hair. He kind of feels like he could just melt right here, fuse with Teddy and the couch and never move again.
"It's finally Friday," Teddy says. Billy nods his agreement against the back of Teddy's neck.
Teddy pulls his feet out of the couch to lock around one of Billy's ankles. "We could go out, catch a show, paint the town red."
Billy grumbles, then grumbles some more when Teddy laughs underneath him, making everything vibrate and disturb his equilibrium.
"We could see our friends," Teddy offers. "See them when not covered in slime, I mean."
As tempting as that is... "Or we could just stay in," Billy says, wriggling his fingers against the cushions until he can wrap an arm around Teddy's middle.
Teddy pauses for a moment, like he's chewing this over. "I think Frankenfish is on," he says finally.
"I'll make the popcorn," Billy says and kisses the back of Teddy's ear.
Teddy shrugs his shoulders back. "You know, you actually have to get up to do that."
"Some people do," Billy mutters, and in a second there's a rattle-clang from the kitchen as a pot thumps itself down on the stove and fills itself with corn kernels.
"Seriously, though," Billy says once the heat is on, "are we the most pathetic people in existence for being too tired to actually do anything when we finally have some free time?"
"Nah," Teddy says and reaches back to tangle his fingers with Billy's. "There's always Saturday."
::fin::