FIC: tear your castles down, billy/teddy, NC-17
Series: Young Avengers
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,291
Notes: Billy/Teddy. Spoilers for Children's Crusade #3. Doomed to be jossed and jossed hard. As I said when I put this up on treeing, there are some arguments I am not willing to wait until January to resolve. (As I also said on treeing, oh ffff i wrote a sex scene whut.) Oh dear, this is so gratuitous.
Summary: Billy gets that he's probably owed a few We told you so's over this whole mess.
They don't see the betrayal coming but with the way their lives work, they usually don't see stuff like that coming anyway, no matter how obvious in hindsight. It's practically expected at this point. Still, Billy has the hazy sense that at least some of the others are thinking "We told you so" whenever they glance in his direction. And to be fair, Billy gets that he's probably owed a few We told you so's over this whole mess. Probably.
After the fighting's stopped, they stand on the overhanging cliff for a while, looking out at the flaming wreckage of Doom's castle in silence. Every few minutes, a Doombot that escaped Magneto's vortex of magnetic destruction crawls its way out from under the rubble, wobbles a few steps, and then falls over. And then usually catches on fire. It's kind of depressing but at the same time, there's a peaceful sense of a job well done hanging in the air.
Eventually, Billy gets the feeling that someone needs to say something to mark the occasion, another win for Team Young Avenger, so he says, "I think it's important to keep in mind that I managed not to end the world or accidentally give us all moustaches or anything like that."
The others all look at each other and then all look at Teddy, who is ominously silent and looking fixedly out at the sky. It eventually falls to Tommy to sling his arm over Billy's shoulders, hold his hand up near Billy's mouth, snapping his fingers shut, and say, "Bro, I think I speak for all of us when I say, you? No talking. For at least an hour. Cool?"
It's, of course, not cool at all, but Billy dutifully shuts his mouth anyway.
---
No one is really surprised when they get back to the old inn to find no traces of anyone. Magneto and Quicksilver have cleared out so efficiently and quickly that it's like they were never there. Which is something you learn when you are ex-master super villains, Billy guesses. It's still kind of a letdown as far as denouements go, though.
The idea of going right back to New York gets raised and then tiredly waved away. Cassie wants a shower to get the bits of castle out of her hair, and no one's looking forward to the official Avengers dressing-down that will probably be waiting for them stateside. Nothing, they all agree with weary head nods, will really be hurt if they take just one night to recuperate first.
Dinner is whatever they can scrounge up that looks edible. There's still some bread from their first night, and Teddy goes off for a bit, looks at someone in the kitchen with his big blue eyes (or so Billy figures), and manages to come back with a hunk of cheese. It's very rustic Wundagore dining, and Tommy keeps talking about how great a hot dog would be right now until Eli tries to shove a towel in his mouth, but they don't go to bed hungry, at least.
When the food's gone and they all start packing up to go back to their own rooms, sweeping crumbs off Eli's bed and putting books-slash-makeshift dishes back on their shelves, Teddy doesn't wait around for him, and that's when the first little siren of worry goes off in Billy's head.
The second goes off when Kate finishes folding up the blanket she and Cassie were sitting on, catches his arm right above the elbow, and purses her lips at him. She says, "Good luck, Kaplan."
Billy furrows his eyebrows back at her and says, "Yeah. Right. Uh, thanks?"
Their room is down the hall and to the left. Billy makes the trip quietly, hunching his shoulders and trying to look as harmless and - more importantly - as apologetic as possible. When he gets there, Teddy's already sitting on the bed, pulling off his shoes and socks. He doesn't say anything as Billy scoots in and shuts the door behind him. He doesn't even look up. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck forever, Billy thinks, feeling the tiredness in his muscles drain out only to be immediately replaced by buzzing nervous energy.
It isn't until Billy has lingered by the edge of the bed for three awkward minutes, trying to decide if he should be going to do the Wundagorian version of sleeping on the couch, that Teddy finally speaks. He doesn't actually turn in Billy's direction, but he does speak.
"You get that I'm mad at you, right?"
"Yeah, Teddy, I-" Billy begins, but he comes to an abrupt, stumbling halt when Teddy turns just a bit and holds up his hand.
"And you get that what you did was pretty frigging stupid, right? And selfish?" He twists his hand about as if to say Now it's your turn.
"Yes," Billy says immediately, and it comes out breathless in a way that he hadn't intended but won't let stop him. He drops one knee down on the bed. "Yes, I'm an idiot, and you are totally right to be mad at me, and I'm not saying I probably wouldn't do it again - because I'm an idiot - but I'd probably find a less stupid way, and I'm really sorry anyway, Ted."
Teddy's eyebrows draw together for a second but only for a second. They smooth back out again, and Teddy stays silent for long enough that Billy's brain starts scrambling for other, better ways to apologize. He doesn't get much beyond Crap, maybe if I grovel? before Teddy lets out a long exhale and pulls his legs up onto the bed and stretches them out in front of him.
"Okay," he says.
To Billy's ears, it doesn't sound like a very enthusiastic okay. It sounds grudging and tired and now that he is well past the original post-battle joy of victory, Billy can clearly see the restrained irritation along Teddy's shoulders, the way his hands are fisted in the bed covers rather than just pressing into them. Still angry, Teddy's body language says, and Billy bites down very firmly on the impulse to babble at him again in the hopes of fumbling his way to forgiveness. Instead, he pulls his other knee up onto the bed so that he's sitting on the edge, a little ways away from Teddy, hands awkwardly resting on his knees, resisting the urge to pick at the inner seam on his right pant leg.
"What kind of okay?" he asks.
Teddy shuts his eyes tightly closed for a moment and then opens them and looks levelly at Billy. Most of the time, most seconds of most days, Billy can read Teddy pretty well. But when Teddy wants to close himself off, he's good at it. And right now, he's being really good at it. The silence is not, objectively speaking, that long, but it's long enough that Billy can feel himself getting tenser too with each passing second. When Teddy finally shifts to speak again, Billy literally twitches in response.
"It's the kind of okay," Teddy says, and he still sounds tired but not quite so grudging, at least, "where I'm still really mad at you. But if you give me some time to get over it, I'll get over it."
"Ah," says Billy, managing to be both deflated and still tense at the same time. Had he hoped for instant forgiveness? Sure. Obviously. Deep down, who wouldn't? But the part of his brain that sometimes manages to be adult about things understands that maybe, in this situation, he doesn't deserve. Maybe, in this situation, Teddy really does have a point. So he says, judiciously, "Yeah. Of course. Whatever time you need."
At some point, he's started picking at the seam of his pants anyway, and he looks down at his fingernails now and watches them try to get a solid grip on the sliver of fabric and mostly fail. Billy is feeling almost self-indulgently tragic enough to think of it as a metaphor. Then he looks up again and blurts out, "If you want, I can kick Tommy out of his room for the night and sleep there. I mean. If you want."
One of the surprising things about Teddy is that he can be pretty graceful when he wants to be, even if his build doesn't make him look capable of it. It's a shapeshifter thing, Billy figures; Teddy knows how every inch of his own body works better than just about anyone else ever will. When he needs to move with precision, he can, and it sometimes makes up for the fact that he'll never be particularly fast.
Especially when the person he's moving toward is Billy who will never manage to be fast or graceful. When Teddy moves suddenly, pressing himself away from the mattress and up to his knees, leaning in toward Billy, Billy responds by nearly losing his balance and falling over. But by then, Teddy's hand has already made it around the back of his neck, holding him firmly, and Teddy's managed to crowd into his personal space so that his knees bracket Billy's. He doesn't fall. He looks up at Teddy and swallows dryly instead.
"I don't want," Teddy says, sounding kind of hoarse.
"Oh, good," Billy says and wraps his hands up in the collar of Teddy's uniform and kisses him before he even realizes that's what he's planning to do.
They've been together long enough that there's not much purpose in being coy about any of this, and Teddy doesn't seem in the mood anyway. His fingers dig into Billy's neck hard, and his other hand finds its way around Billy's back, gripping onto the waistband of Billy's pants and dragging him forward. Billy does his best not to crack their knees together as he scrambles up to straddle Teddy's knees and then bites at Teddy's lower lip in a mix of frustration and desire that he doesn't have the attention span to dissect right now.
Teddy kisses him hard, his tongue against Billy's and then against the back of Billy's teeth, barely a chance to breath at all. It's like it always is when something's gone wrong, when one of them was nearly hurt, nearly killed, when things in the universe conspire to find a way to keep them apart. And it's probably the stab of guilt in Billy's stomach that he was one of those things this time that has him grasping at Teddy's jaw and Teddy's hair a little harder than he should.
Teddy doesn't seem to mind. Teddy bucks up against him, hard against the inside of Billy's thigh, and breaks the kiss. But it's like he can't get very far away. Their foreheads rest together, and their noses keep touching. When Billy strains for another kiss, he gets a slight brush of Teddy's mouth, a warm tease of breath over his lips, for his trouble.
"You seriously scared me," Teddy says. His voice rumbles in his chest, and Billy can feel the vibrations where they're pressed together.
"I know," Billy says. "I'm sorry." But being sorry - and he really is - doesn't stop him from shifting his weight, using his lack of grace to his advantage, so he can throw them both off balance and push Teddy back onto the bed. Teddy doesn't fight it. He flops back against the pillows, sending up little motes that are extra visible in the yellow lamp light. Billy squeezes his legs against Teddy's hips to stay upright, taking a moment to sit back and just look down, admiring the curve of Teddy's bare arms, the redness of his mouth, and the way he sprawls back, anything but relaxed, ready to sit up again in a second if Billy doesn't get on with it.
Billy's fingers find the hoop of Teddy's zipper and slip through it to give one short, sharp, mostly ineffective tug down. Teddy follows his gaze down with mild interest and then looks back up again. He's still being so hard to read that Billy almost lets go. Only the twitch of the corner of Teddy's mouth, a faint curve upward, stops him.
"Next time you're going to do something suicidally stupid," Teddy says, putting his hands on Billy's hips, "you wake me up and take me with you."
"Okay," Billy agrees and bends over and presses his mouth against the place behind Teddy's ear, just at the curve of his jawbone. Teddy makes a quiet noise in his throat, lifts his chin, and Billy drags his teeth over this exposed stretch of skin because it's the only thing he can do to stop the possessive growl that wells up in his throat. It says I wanted to keep you safe better than he'll ever know how.
From this angle, it's easier to pull the stupid zipper down. It slides smoothly, only catching once around Teddy's belly-button. Billy pulls slowly anyway, lets his knuckles brush against Teddy's chest as it appears a little at a time, enjoying every moment of it until Teddy's squirming and rubbing up against him in a way that makes it unclear whether he likes it or wants to beat Billy with his pillow to get him to speed up. Then Teddy gasps, "God, Billy, seriously" from between gritted teeth, which makes it a little clearer.
So Billy sits up, unable to resist the urge to put his hands on Teddy's stomach for a second and feel it twitch, a little dazed as always by the fact of all of this bare skin under his hands and that he has complete permission to touch it all. He observes, "You're having that problem with not talking."
Teddy's laugh is mostly a thick huff of air. It makes his stomach contract, like it's trying to pull away from the tips of Billy's fingers, and Billy decides that the most logical thing to do in response is hunch over and chase his stomach with his mouth instead. Which only makes Teddy suck in a deeper breath. He tastes salty like drying sweat and smells mostly like smoke and motor oil. Billy sucks skin into his mouth, wanting to keep the taste there to roll it around over his tongue later, and mouths his way lower.
"Usually that's you," Teddy manages in a thin voice, after a long pause where he seems to mostly be holding his breath.
"Usually that's me," Billy agrees quietly. And honesty makes him pause, fingers now curled under the waist of Teddy's pants and nose pressed against the rise of his hips. Honesty makes him consider telling Teddy that he isn't talkative right now because he really scared himself as well. That he didn't think he was capable of betraying Teddy's trust so casually and now that he has, he doesn't know what that means. He doesn't want to have to think about what that means.
But the heat of Teddy's skin and the heavy way he's breathing and the fact that Billy is so beyond half-hard now leads him to decide that this is not the time for serious conversation. This is really not the time. So he kisses Teddy's hipbone one last time, lingering, like a bookmark, a promise for later, and says, "We are both shutting up now, okay?"
It takes both of them to get Teddy's pants off, sweat making the fabric slip and cling unpredictably. Billy abandons the task when they get them down to Teddy's ankles because he feels like he's been waiting forever to get his mouth on Teddy's cock at this point. This is a feeling he's well acquainted with, honestly, but he's just not that patient in the end and as soon as he has the chance, he's scrambling at Teddy's underwear and taking the heavy weight of his dick in his hands. Teddy groans loudly and presses his head back into the pillow when Billy licks up along the underside the first time.
When Billy actually gets around to wrapping his lips around Teddy's cock - and it doesn't take long because, again, no patience - Teddy barks out a sharp "Fuck yes," and his hands grip onto the sheets out what is definitely not anger now. His hips jerk up, and his whole body arches in a way that Billy imagines would be a little breathtaking if he was at an angle to appreciate it more. Billy doesn't bother to brace a hand on Teddy's hips to keep them down because experience and super-strength leads him to believe there's no real point. And besides, it leaves him free to shove a hand into his own pants and underwear, shivering too hard at first to get a proper grip and then jerking himself off as well as he can manage. His fingers are too dry at first, but the tip of his cock is already wet, so that doesn't last very long.
It feels better than it should, given that it's just his own hand on his own dick, but there's not much that Billy likes more, that makes Billy's blood run hotter, than having Teddy's taste in his mouth and his weight against Billy's tongue, than the moment where Teddy gives up on the sheets and winds his hands into Billy's hair instead, blunt fingernails scrapping once against his scalp before Teddy remembers to try to be gentle. "Shit," Teddy whimpers and then "Billy" and then back and forth between those two for a while. Billy curls his toes against the fabric of his socks and takes Teddy down as far as he can, sucks greedily and rubs with the flat of his tongue, lets his nose get tickled by Teddy's pubic hairs and doesn't even fucking care a bit.
It's over sooner than he'd like - not that Billy is someone who will ever actually complain about having an orgasm. He hears the familiar hitch in Teddy's breath and presses his knee down harder into the bed to brace himself and swallows as best as he can when Teddy comes a second later. After that it only takes a little more pressure, a few quick jerks of his wrist, and Billy comes too, hot over his own hand, the room going a little fuzzy at the edges as he gasps into the inside of Teddy's thigh.
Teddy's looking down over his chest at him when Billy finally looks up, and his expression is finally entirely open, completely readable. He smiles, makes a little motion with his hand like Come here, and Billy, instead of doing what he's asked, turns his face against Teddy's knee to disguise wiping his mouth off as a kiss.
And Teddy pauses for a moment, then wrinkles his nose and laughs, not fooled at all.
---
They rock-paper-scissors to see who's actually going to get up to turn off the light. Teddy wins because winning rock-paper-scissors is like his second or third super power. Billy doesn't exactly curve around him when he crawls back into bed, but he lets his hand fall on the pillows between them, close enough that he could flick one of Teddy's earrings if he wanted to.
"You're going to have to apologize to the others too." Teddy's voice is already thick with sleep, and his eyes are closed when he says this, but he cracks one open to peer at Billy right after. His look is incongruously serious. "Especially to Tommy," he adds. "He was really pissed."
"I will in the morning," Billy promises and means it.
And it's not forgiveness exactly, but Teddy turns his face towards Billy and shifts forward to bump his forehead against the back of Billy's knuckles before closing both his eyes to sleep again.