Baccano!: Some Kinda Monster (Luck/Claire)
Title: Some Kinda Monster
Fandom: Baccano!
Rating: Soft R
Pairing: Claire/Luck
Summary: Claire comes home for the first time; Luck sees him bloodied and brilliant, and there's fear in his stomach, and anger.
Warnings: I make up timelines like I make up excuses. :D Written for Kinkfest over at IJ, and I will pretend that it is already the 3rd of July, because if Claire can do it, so can I.
547 words and some serious Brotherly Business.
When he first saw him again, the first thought in his mind was that Claire was some sort of monster, had to be, no other human could move like that, could come at him that way, could scare the living hell out of Luck and yet have him stay so fucking still and he could smell Claire, smell him from four paces off, now three, now two, 'Oh, God,' he said.
And that was what Claire looked like, that night: it was blood, blood, blood all neat down the front of Claire's white shirt and underneath his jacket, it was a brother gone bloodied after three years come back to haunt Luck from out of the grave. Fuck, Claire was alive.
'You look like you've seen a ghost,' Claire said, stepping forward again, and his smile was almost cruel, except that it turned upwards with a sort of delight that Luck was afraid to name.
Claire was close enough that Luck could see where the splatter-spray of someone else's insides ended and where the tidy, familiar fall of Claire's pressed clothing began. 'What happened?' Luck asked. It was only bright enough for him to see the low pleasure in Claire's eyes highlighted by the streetlights outside; nothing else, nothing else. 'It's three in the morning,' he pointed out. There was copper in the air. Luck's mouth watered. He swallowed and said, trying to turn his voice cold, 'I haven't seen you since you left. Now you're here. Filthy. What did you expect me to say?'
Claire smiled, and took that last step inward. Luck's back hit the wall, and he flinched once, then flinched again when Claire slipped an arm around his waist and put the sticky heat of drying haemoglobin between them. 'Little brother's being rude,' he murmured into Luck's ear.
Luck scrabbled to put a hand on the flat of Claire's stomach. Made a small noise when his hand touched wetness, and then scrabbled again to drag his palm up underneath Claire's undershirt. There was skin there, smooth and whole. 'What have you been doing,' Luck snarled, with the kind of quiet worry he'd learnt from Keith.
Claire propped one hand up on the wall besides Luck's head and leaned in. 'Heard of Vino?' he asked. 'The assassin?'
There was a beat before Luck's fingers dug into Claire's side, hard enough to bruise and then harder, hard enough to break skin. 'Are you insane?' Luck hissed. 'Do you think you're invincible? You're not, Claire,' and he pressed his fingers in, in, in to prove the point.
'Little brother talks back and draws blood.' Claire raised his eyebrows and put his forehead against Luck's, no sign of pain written anywhere across his face. 'You've grown up.' He sounded proud, whimsical.
'Claire,' Luck snapped, honestly angry, and sickened by the smell.
'I'm letting you bleed me because it's you, Luck,' Claire sighed, like Luck was ten years old again and nervous. 'Because we're family.' And he tugged Luck hard against his waist, and felt it even as Luck felt it, and grinned, then turned them both around and put his own messy back to Luck's white, white walls and said, 'Now how about you bleed me a little more, and show me how much you really care?'
[and equal marriage still wants YOU for their fundraising army!]
Fandom: Baccano!
Rating: Soft R
Pairing: Claire/Luck
Summary: Claire comes home for the first time; Luck sees him bloodied and brilliant, and there's fear in his stomach, and anger.
Warnings: I make up timelines like I make up excuses. :D Written for Kinkfest over at IJ, and I will pretend that it is already the 3rd of July, because if Claire can do it, so can I.
547 words and some serious Brotherly Business.
When he first saw him again, the first thought in his mind was that Claire was some sort of monster, had to be, no other human could move like that, could come at him that way, could scare the living hell out of Luck and yet have him stay so fucking still and he could smell Claire, smell him from four paces off, now three, now two, 'Oh, God,' he said.
And that was what Claire looked like, that night: it was blood, blood, blood all neat down the front of Claire's white shirt and underneath his jacket, it was a brother gone bloodied after three years come back to haunt Luck from out of the grave. Fuck, Claire was alive.
'You look like you've seen a ghost,' Claire said, stepping forward again, and his smile was almost cruel, except that it turned upwards with a sort of delight that Luck was afraid to name.
Claire was close enough that Luck could see where the splatter-spray of someone else's insides ended and where the tidy, familiar fall of Claire's pressed clothing began. 'What happened?' Luck asked. It was only bright enough for him to see the low pleasure in Claire's eyes highlighted by the streetlights outside; nothing else, nothing else. 'It's three in the morning,' he pointed out. There was copper in the air. Luck's mouth watered. He swallowed and said, trying to turn his voice cold, 'I haven't seen you since you left. Now you're here. Filthy. What did you expect me to say?'
Claire smiled, and took that last step inward. Luck's back hit the wall, and he flinched once, then flinched again when Claire slipped an arm around his waist and put the sticky heat of drying haemoglobin between them. 'Little brother's being rude,' he murmured into Luck's ear.
Luck scrabbled to put a hand on the flat of Claire's stomach. Made a small noise when his hand touched wetness, and then scrabbled again to drag his palm up underneath Claire's undershirt. There was skin there, smooth and whole. 'What have you been doing,' Luck snarled, with the kind of quiet worry he'd learnt from Keith.
Claire propped one hand up on the wall besides Luck's head and leaned in. 'Heard of Vino?' he asked. 'The assassin?'
There was a beat before Luck's fingers dug into Claire's side, hard enough to bruise and then harder, hard enough to break skin. 'Are you insane?' Luck hissed. 'Do you think you're invincible? You're not, Claire,' and he pressed his fingers in, in, in to prove the point.
'Little brother talks back and draws blood.' Claire raised his eyebrows and put his forehead against Luck's, no sign of pain written anywhere across his face. 'You've grown up.' He sounded proud, whimsical.
'Claire,' Luck snapped, honestly angry, and sickened by the smell.
'I'm letting you bleed me because it's you, Luck,' Claire sighed, like Luck was ten years old again and nervous. 'Because we're family.' And he tugged Luck hard against his waist, and felt it even as Luck felt it, and grinned, then turned them both around and put his own messy back to Luck's white, white walls and said, 'Now how about you bleed me a little more, and show me how much you really care?'
[and equal marriage still wants YOU for their fundraising army!]