Drabble: Après
Title: Après
Fandom: Young Avengers
Pairing: Billy/Teddy
Rating: G
Warning(s): None
Summary: After a battle there's only one thing that matters.
On AO3 or below
He lets himself thump to the ground, allowing gravity to take him the last few feet instead of landing softly on the concrete as normal. Spandex doesn't provide much cushion, but the blunt, bruising pain on the bottoms of his feet is welcome. It matches the rest of his body, now beginning to weaken as adrenaline fades and his enemies are taken away. He would collapse, except for one worry, the same worry that has him only a few moments away from tears mixing with the blood on his cheeks and stinging his cuts. He wants to scream out, but lacks the energy, the strength, the breath. He lacks the right; every person he fights with looks, and must feel the same as he. He stands on the spot, not noticing as he sways slightly, turning only his head to search for him. For comfort, for safety. He has to know.
Then he sees him, a figure of green. One of his wings is bent as if it’s broken, but he will heal, the cut across his left brow already closing.
The bruised pads of his feet thump against the ground, pain shooting through with each step but he doesn't care, he’s focused on only one person, desperate to reach him.
His object of focus sees him coming and starts running too, matching his speed.
He flies into the other’s arms, crushing himself against his chest and gripping around his neck with all the strength he has left.
“Billy, Billy, Billy, Billy,” the other whispers against the side of his head. One of his hands rests across Billy’s shoulder blades, the other on the small of his back, holding him easily. “You’re bleeding, are you okay?”
The tears have finally come, mixing with blood and surely looking gruesome, not that anyone can see what with Billy’s face buried in his neck, smearing the mess against the other boy’s skin. “I’m fine, Teddy.”
“You’re shaking.”
“Am I?” He can’t really tell; he’s only aware of Teddy’s body against his and the air beneath his feet as he dangles.
“Do you need a hospital?”
“No, just you. And a nap.”
“Mmm,” Teddy hums. “Home, then?”
Billy nods into Teddy’s shoulder and he feels the other body shifting against his. “Is your wing okay? It looked broken earlier.”
“I’ve healed.”
There’s the sound of flapping, then the brush of wind and the weightless sensation of flying. Billy relaxes in Teddy’s arms, which is apparently the wrong move.
“Billy? Bee? Still with me?”
Billy kisses the point where neck meets shoulder. “Just out of juice, m’tired.”
“I’ve got you,” Teddy promises.
“I know.” He lets himself relax and fall gently to sleep, safe.
Fandom: Young Avengers
Pairing: Billy/Teddy
Rating: G
Warning(s): None
Summary: After a battle there's only one thing that matters.
On AO3 or below
He lets himself thump to the ground, allowing gravity to take him the last few feet instead of landing softly on the concrete as normal. Spandex doesn't provide much cushion, but the blunt, bruising pain on the bottoms of his feet is welcome. It matches the rest of his body, now beginning to weaken as adrenaline fades and his enemies are taken away. He would collapse, except for one worry, the same worry that has him only a few moments away from tears mixing with the blood on his cheeks and stinging his cuts. He wants to scream out, but lacks the energy, the strength, the breath. He lacks the right; every person he fights with looks, and must feel the same as he. He stands on the spot, not noticing as he sways slightly, turning only his head to search for him. For comfort, for safety. He has to know.
Then he sees him, a figure of green. One of his wings is bent as if it’s broken, but he will heal, the cut across his left brow already closing.
The bruised pads of his feet thump against the ground, pain shooting through with each step but he doesn't care, he’s focused on only one person, desperate to reach him.
His object of focus sees him coming and starts running too, matching his speed.
He flies into the other’s arms, crushing himself against his chest and gripping around his neck with all the strength he has left.
“Billy, Billy, Billy, Billy,” the other whispers against the side of his head. One of his hands rests across Billy’s shoulder blades, the other on the small of his back, holding him easily. “You’re bleeding, are you okay?”
The tears have finally come, mixing with blood and surely looking gruesome, not that anyone can see what with Billy’s face buried in his neck, smearing the mess against the other boy’s skin. “I’m fine, Teddy.”
“You’re shaking.”
“Am I?” He can’t really tell; he’s only aware of Teddy’s body against his and the air beneath his feet as he dangles.
“Do you need a hospital?”
“No, just you. And a nap.”
“Mmm,” Teddy hums. “Home, then?”
Billy nods into Teddy’s shoulder and he feels the other body shifting against his. “Is your wing okay? It looked broken earlier.”
“I’ve healed.”
There’s the sound of flapping, then the brush of wind and the weightless sensation of flying. Billy relaxes in Teddy’s arms, which is apparently the wrong move.
“Billy? Bee? Still with me?”
Billy kisses the point where neck meets shoulder. “Just out of juice, m’tired.”
“I’ve got you,” Teddy promises.
“I know.” He lets himself relax and fall gently to sleep, safe.