Fic, Reservoir Dogs, Breakfast [english]
Crosspost with orange_white
Titre : Breakfast
Author : Mélie, akka gribouille
Fandom : Reservoir Dogs
Pairing : White/Orange *o*
Rating : PG-13 (words, words, words…)
Disclaimer : Both White and Orange are Quentin Tarantino's exclusive property…
Many thanks to fitz_carraldo for the beta-reading.
"So…what do you want for breakfast ?"
We're both in the bathroom. He, in the bath; me, in front of the mirror, brushing my hair with his comb.
"Orange."
"Very funny." I say.
"You think I’m kidding? That's what I want for breakfast."
"We start messing around, I’m going to be late." I lean my hands on the sides of the sink and stare blankly at my reflection. "I’ve still got to get back to my place and pick up the suit, remember?"
"We’re meeting at that café first. You’ve got plenty of time."
"Yeah, well...there’s some stuff I’ve got to take care of."
Like calling Holdaway. To betray you. To betray everyone, but especially you.
What else can I do anyway?
I already tried talking you out of it. I tried telling you I had a bad feeling about the whole thing. You shrugged it off, told me it was just nerves.
So we're going through with it, business as usual. You don’t know that my business is betrayal.
"Where are my clothes?" I ask, turning from the sink.
"All over the place."
Yes, they are. With yours.
I put them on, saying nothing.
Thinking.
There’s still a way. I figured it out. In a couple of hours, we could both be out of this mess. If you still trust me, that is. I doubt you will… but I can still try.
It's me, or jail. I'll tell you. Me, or jail. Please pick me.
"Hey, what's that look?"
You seem suddenly pissed off. You're still in the bath.
"What?"
"That look that my Orange-that-I-won't-have-for-breakfast just gave me. Get rid of it."
I sigh. I didn't realize I was looking at him. At you.
"Listen to me, kid. You've got nothing to worry about. You’re gonna do fine."
I don’t say anything as I pull my shirt down over my head.
"You got that? You got that, Mr. Orange?"
"Freddy."
I don't know why I tell you my name. But now there's this strange silence and I feel like shit.
"Well then, listen, Freddy. You’re gonna be okay. Now, I want to hear you say it: you're gonna be okay."
"I'm gonna be okay."
"Good. That's my boy. And you know why you're gonna be okay? Because I’m gonna take care of you."
No, Larry. I need to take care of you.
"Come over here."
I do and you kiss me. It's probably the last time, so I don't care if my T-shirt is wet after you grab it with your hand. I don't fucking care.
"See you later then."
"See you, Freddy."
You seem to like it. My name.
I'm glad you do.
"You'll have your breakfast tomorrow."
"Or maybe tonight", you say with a smile.
"Yeah. Maybe tonight."
THE END.
Titre : Breakfast
Author : Mélie, akka gribouille
Fandom : Reservoir Dogs
Pairing : White/Orange *o*
Rating : PG-13 (words, words, words…)
Disclaimer : Both White and Orange are Quentin Tarantino's exclusive property…
Many thanks to fitz_carraldo for the beta-reading.
"So…what do you want for breakfast ?"
We're both in the bathroom. He, in the bath; me, in front of the mirror, brushing my hair with his comb.
"Orange."
"Very funny." I say.
"You think I’m kidding? That's what I want for breakfast."
"We start messing around, I’m going to be late." I lean my hands on the sides of the sink and stare blankly at my reflection. "I’ve still got to get back to my place and pick up the suit, remember?"
"We’re meeting at that café first. You’ve got plenty of time."
"Yeah, well...there’s some stuff I’ve got to take care of."
Like calling Holdaway. To betray you. To betray everyone, but especially you.
What else can I do anyway?
I already tried talking you out of it. I tried telling you I had a bad feeling about the whole thing. You shrugged it off, told me it was just nerves.
So we're going through with it, business as usual. You don’t know that my business is betrayal.
"Where are my clothes?" I ask, turning from the sink.
"All over the place."
Yes, they are. With yours.
I put them on, saying nothing.
Thinking.
There’s still a way. I figured it out. In a couple of hours, we could both be out of this mess. If you still trust me, that is. I doubt you will… but I can still try.
It's me, or jail. I'll tell you. Me, or jail. Please pick me.
"Hey, what's that look?"
You seem suddenly pissed off. You're still in the bath.
"What?"
"That look that my Orange-that-I-won't-have-for-breakfast just gave me. Get rid of it."
I sigh. I didn't realize I was looking at him. At you.
"Listen to me, kid. You've got nothing to worry about. You’re gonna do fine."
I don’t say anything as I pull my shirt down over my head.
"You got that? You got that, Mr. Orange?"
"Freddy."
I don't know why I tell you my name. But now there's this strange silence and I feel like shit.
"Well then, listen, Freddy. You’re gonna be okay. Now, I want to hear you say it: you're gonna be okay."
"I'm gonna be okay."
"Good. That's my boy. And you know why you're gonna be okay? Because I’m gonna take care of you."
No, Larry. I need to take care of you.
"Come over here."
I do and you kiss me. It's probably the last time, so I don't care if my T-shirt is wet after you grab it with your hand. I don't fucking care.
"See you later then."
"See you, Freddy."
You seem to like it. My name.
I'm glad you do.
"You'll have your breakfast tomorrow."
"Or maybe tonight", you say with a smile.
"Yeah. Maybe tonight."
THE END.