Happy (belated) birthday Shanachie_quill!!
Happy birthday, shanachie_quill! I hope you enjoy them, and that this next year is better than the last. :)
The usual song and dance - prompt and rating/warnings in the cuts.
Love Song/Rescue 77, Billy/Wick, singing in the rain:
"I could do that," Wick murmurs against Billy's shoulder, eyes glued to Donald O'Connor despite the fact that he's already falling asleep.
"Goober," Billy says matter of factly, his fingers tracing nonsense patterns on the palm of Wick's hand. "You'd maybe manage half, then bash your face in, or worse, and I happen to take exception to you coming to any more harm."
RPS, Steve/Chris, (waiter 'verse) 'lemme show you a real southern bbq':
"I know, I know," Steve says with feigned agitation, gesturing at the buffet selection of proteins buried in supposedly exotic sauces, "it's not real barbecue, but it's delicious so you're gonna eat it anyway."
"You should lemme show you a proper southern barbecue," Christian says, not quite looking at him, his grip a little tight on his plate. "My mama makes a mean brisket, and um, I'm going next month to visit and if you wanted you could go with, I mean, if you wanted, if it's not too late to get off work or whatever..."
Love Song/Rescue 77, Billy/Wick, the call he didn't want:
Billy nearly drops the phone and the world tips just a little, just enough, his ears so full of the blood rushing through him it makes his fingers numb; he says something mechanical, some deeper, smarter part of him knowing that it's necessary, that it's information he needs, that it's information that will take him from here --he can't remember where that is but it doesn't matter, not right now, maybe not every again, and his chest closes around that thought, holding it in-- to where Wick is.
He doesn't remember driving to the hospital.
They don't let him in at first but Mike and Ryan nearly put some doctor's face in, so Billy is sitting beside him, almost afraid to touch him, to even hold his hand --Billy's still holding his breath-- and the time passes slow, so slow, before those blue eyes flutter open.
Love Song/Rescue 77, Billy/Wick, shower:
Hands slip against skin, against tile, soap slick and Wick's too needy to bother with pausing long enough to let the water wash it away, too busy pushing and pressing until Billy has to give in, barely braced with one hand on the soap jut and the other reaching up for the curtain rod. Wick smirks against his skin --cos honestly, whoever heard of moaning in key?-- before chasing droplets and rivulets of water along Billy's neck with his tongue.
Idly he wonders if he takes his time, if he works Billy over so slow and sweet, if he could make it last until the water runs cold, but Billy lifts his hips just so, looking for friction and something more, and who is Wick to say no to that?
Supernatural, Dean, Dean's first gun:
Dean thinks it's gonna be like Dad's gun, big and heavy, and no joke to look at, but it isn't, and Dad glares at him when he starts to complain (it isn't whining, it isn't). It's small, by comparison, but it fits Dean's small hand, and Dad shows him how to shoot it, how to aim it, how to take it apart and clean it.
And if Dean hears him whisper God forgive me, Dean pretends he doesn't, because he knows as well as anybody there ain't such a thing as God and angels.
Supernatural, wee!chesters, first horror movie:
Dean turns it on cos Sammy's annoying him --kid's supposed to be in bed asleep but he won't, just won't, those big round eyes and pouty lip sticking out until Dean feels downright guilty for wanting some time alone in front of the tv-- and he hopes that maybe, just maybe, if he shows him his first actual scary movie, Sammy won't want to be out here with him anymore.
Instead Sammy's all but in his lap, leaning hard against him and covering his eyes, fingers split apart just enough for him to watch the screen. And then it occurs to Dean, with a sudden and dreadful realization -- his little brother will likely have nightmares for he next week...
Leverage, Eliot and Parker (no pairing), 'I can be subtle if I need to':
Eliot grits his teeth, biting down both the urge to growl and the urge to rub his temple, and somehow (long experience, maybe) manages to calmly point out, "Subtle for normal people, Parker, ain't talkin' about sneaking around in ventilation shafts." She pouts at him, already opening her mouth to argue. "No, playin' dead doesn't count!"
Leverage, team, family feelings:
Parker knows she's weird, but she's not stupid; she chooses Nate instead of Archie not just because he's a better leader, but because he's a better patriarch, and the hiccups of dysfunction in the team aside (hey, it made sense to her he'd be willing to sacrifice himself, whatever Sophie said about selfish) it's the closest thing she has to the kind of family that people always talk about. Though she's not sure she hasn't got it wrong again, on account of how Nate's not their dad and it'd be strange even for her to call Sophie mom, and she's pretty sure you're not allowed to kiss your younger brother even if it's pretend, though ok, Eliot's probably the best big brother she's ever met, even after being in the foster system and seeing lots and lots of them.
She's pretty sure she likes her way of thinking about it anyway.
Love Song/Rescue 77, Billy/Wick, coming home after a long shift:
Billy's just about ready to punch someone in the face; as if going in to the garage early to cover someone's sick day wasn't bad enough, every douchebag and their dick cousin had to come in and treat him like shit, like he's the one that's going to try and lie, over charge, or other wise screw them over.
Crossing the threshold, though, it all melts off him like so much hot slag, leaving him more exhausted than anything else, though the smell of fresh pizza makes his stomach rumble loudly. Of course it's that, not the door closing, that brings Wick out of the kitchen, pushing a beer into his hand, pushing him down onto the couch and kissing him soundly like it'll keep him there.
Love Song/Rescue 77, Billy/Wick, dinner for two:
Wick tells him about that one time with Mike and the nurse, the table set up outside the garage, about his atrocious French accent, and then thinks no more of it; it's a passing joke, and Billy calls him a goober with all due prejudice. He doesn't expect the ping pong table with the net taken off and a cloth draped over it, or the bottle of bona fide sparkling grape juice, or the whole room rearranged to resemble something close to intimate with candles settled here and there. All he can do is grin and duck his head, and hope to god the only one that sees how red he's turning --or how big he's grinning, so much his cheeks hurt-- is Billy.
The usual song and dance - prompt and rating/warnings in the cuts.
Love Song/Rescue 77, Billy/Wick, singing in the rain:
"I could do that," Wick murmurs against Billy's shoulder, eyes glued to Donald O'Connor despite the fact that he's already falling asleep.
"Goober," Billy says matter of factly, his fingers tracing nonsense patterns on the palm of Wick's hand. "You'd maybe manage half, then bash your face in, or worse, and I happen to take exception to you coming to any more harm."
RPS, Steve/Chris, (waiter 'verse) 'lemme show you a real southern bbq':
"I know, I know," Steve says with feigned agitation, gesturing at the buffet selection of proteins buried in supposedly exotic sauces, "it's not real barbecue, but it's delicious so you're gonna eat it anyway."
"You should lemme show you a proper southern barbecue," Christian says, not quite looking at him, his grip a little tight on his plate. "My mama makes a mean brisket, and um, I'm going next month to visit and if you wanted you could go with, I mean, if you wanted, if it's not too late to get off work or whatever..."
Love Song/Rescue 77, Billy/Wick, the call he didn't want:
Billy nearly drops the phone and the world tips just a little, just enough, his ears so full of the blood rushing through him it makes his fingers numb; he says something mechanical, some deeper, smarter part of him knowing that it's necessary, that it's information he needs, that it's information that will take him from here --he can't remember where that is but it doesn't matter, not right now, maybe not every again, and his chest closes around that thought, holding it in-- to where Wick is.
He doesn't remember driving to the hospital.
They don't let him in at first but Mike and Ryan nearly put some doctor's face in, so Billy is sitting beside him, almost afraid to touch him, to even hold his hand --Billy's still holding his breath-- and the time passes slow, so slow, before those blue eyes flutter open.
Love Song/Rescue 77, Billy/Wick, shower:
Hands slip against skin, against tile, soap slick and Wick's too needy to bother with pausing long enough to let the water wash it away, too busy pushing and pressing until Billy has to give in, barely braced with one hand on the soap jut and the other reaching up for the curtain rod. Wick smirks against his skin --cos honestly, whoever heard of moaning in key?-- before chasing droplets and rivulets of water along Billy's neck with his tongue.
Idly he wonders if he takes his time, if he works Billy over so slow and sweet, if he could make it last until the water runs cold, but Billy lifts his hips just so, looking for friction and something more, and who is Wick to say no to that?
Supernatural, Dean, Dean's first gun:
Dean thinks it's gonna be like Dad's gun, big and heavy, and no joke to look at, but it isn't, and Dad glares at him when he starts to complain (it isn't whining, it isn't). It's small, by comparison, but it fits Dean's small hand, and Dad shows him how to shoot it, how to aim it, how to take it apart and clean it.
And if Dean hears him whisper God forgive me, Dean pretends he doesn't, because he knows as well as anybody there ain't such a thing as God and angels.
Supernatural, wee!chesters, first horror movie:
Dean turns it on cos Sammy's annoying him --kid's supposed to be in bed asleep but he won't, just won't, those big round eyes and pouty lip sticking out until Dean feels downright guilty for wanting some time alone in front of the tv-- and he hopes that maybe, just maybe, if he shows him his first actual scary movie, Sammy won't want to be out here with him anymore.
Instead Sammy's all but in his lap, leaning hard against him and covering his eyes, fingers split apart just enough for him to watch the screen. And then it occurs to Dean, with a sudden and dreadful realization -- his little brother will likely have nightmares for he next week...
Leverage, Eliot and Parker (no pairing), 'I can be subtle if I need to':
Eliot grits his teeth, biting down both the urge to growl and the urge to rub his temple, and somehow (long experience, maybe) manages to calmly point out, "Subtle for normal people, Parker, ain't talkin' about sneaking around in ventilation shafts." She pouts at him, already opening her mouth to argue. "No, playin' dead doesn't count!"
Leverage, team, family feelings:
Parker knows she's weird, but she's not stupid; she chooses Nate instead of Archie not just because he's a better leader, but because he's a better patriarch, and the hiccups of dysfunction in the team aside (hey, it made sense to her he'd be willing to sacrifice himself, whatever Sophie said about selfish) it's the closest thing she has to the kind of family that people always talk about. Though she's not sure she hasn't got it wrong again, on account of how Nate's not their dad and it'd be strange even for her to call Sophie mom, and she's pretty sure you're not allowed to kiss your younger brother even if it's pretend, though ok, Eliot's probably the best big brother she's ever met, even after being in the foster system and seeing lots and lots of them.
She's pretty sure she likes her way of thinking about it anyway.
Love Song/Rescue 77, Billy/Wick, coming home after a long shift:
Billy's just about ready to punch someone in the face; as if going in to the garage early to cover someone's sick day wasn't bad enough, every douchebag and their dick cousin had to come in and treat him like shit, like he's the one that's going to try and lie, over charge, or other wise screw them over.
Crossing the threshold, though, it all melts off him like so much hot slag, leaving him more exhausted than anything else, though the smell of fresh pizza makes his stomach rumble loudly. Of course it's that, not the door closing, that brings Wick out of the kitchen, pushing a beer into his hand, pushing him down onto the couch and kissing him soundly like it'll keep him there.
Love Song/Rescue 77, Billy/Wick, dinner for two:
Wick tells him about that one time with Mike and the nurse, the table set up outside the garage, about his atrocious French accent, and then thinks no more of it; it's a passing joke, and Billy calls him a goober with all due prejudice. He doesn't expect the ping pong table with the net taken off and a cloth draped over it, or the bottle of bona fide sparkling grape juice, or the whole room rearranged to resemble something close to intimate with candles settled here and there. All he can do is grin and duck his head, and hope to god the only one that sees how red he's turning --or how big he's grinning, so much his cheeks hurt-- is Billy.