Drink on Me-Chapter One
Pairing: Haddock/Tintin
Rating: T
Genre: Romance,Drama
Summary: Tintin is upset because the Captain's addiction to alcohol. Will Haddock notice it and change for him?
I wrote that fic as a fill for that prompt some months ago but it resulted more dramatic than what was prompted. I changed the title too.
Haddock searched over and over again.
Where the hell was his whiskey?
And the worst of all, this was his last bottle.
“Thundering Typhoons! Where´s the damn thing! It was always here!”
“Is something wrong, Mister?”
Nestor appeared behind him.
“It´s my Loch Lomond! The damn bottle has disappeared! “
“Maybe you kept it somewhere else”? The good butler suggested.
“Of course not, blistering barnacles! I always keep my bottles here!”
Nestor stayed calm as always.
“I don´t see how it could have vanished Mister, unless someone had taken the bottle away.”
“What? But who would do such a thing? I´m the only one here who drinks it!”
Nestor shrugged.
“Bottles have no legs or wings, Mister.”
Cursing, Haddock approached the window. The night has long fallen; all the shops should be all closed.
“In fact, where´s Tintin?”
“Oh…he´s out since an hour ago. I believe he took Milou on a walk.”
“Thundering Typhoons, at a time like this?”
He looked back again at the window. Maybe he could get some company from Tintin at the pub…
Sighing, he sat at the couch. His throat felt dry. What in heavens he would drink now?
“Hello.”
The young reporter had just returned from the walk.
“Tintin, finally!” The Captain rose from the couch.
“Hello, Captain. Feeling good?”
“Not so well, lad, my Loch Lomond has disappeared and I´m thirsty as hell.”
“Oh…I see. Can´t you drink another thing?”
“No, blistering barnacles, that was my last bottle!”
“Captain…can you please try water…just once?”
“Are you kidding me boy, water is poison!”
Tintin frowned.
“Are you too tired to offer me some company in a pub, Tintin? I really need a drink.”
The young man stared at him for some seconds.
“Hu…sorry, but I´m not feeling well. You know…the night´s cold. Good night.”
Before Haddock could react, Tintin went upstairs to his room.
Tintin undressed, frustrated.
He wasn´t really ill.
He just wanted to avoid the Captain´s visit to the pub.
But…
What if he´s gone to the pub, without him?
Haddock´s alcohol addiction was stronger than him.
He slipped between the warm covers, feeling tears in his eyes.
So all his efforts would be in vain.
Tintin swallowed the tears, trying to get some sleep.
“Sorry Captain. It´s for your own good".
Suddenly, he frowned.
Footsteps approached his room.
“Tintin?”
It was the Captain.
“Are you all right in there, lad?”
The door opened.
Tintin closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep.
He felt his friend approaching the bed. It was quiet for a moment.
The covers were pulled up to his neck and he felt hands tucking it around him. A hand rested for a moment on his forehead, pushing out gently his quiff and caressing his hair.
To his astonishment, rough lips rested on his forehead.
“Sleep well, my dear boy.” The Captain whispered.
The door closed behind him. Seconds later the door to the room next to his closed as well.
Tintin opened his eyes in the darkness, heat spreading in his face.
Now he really couldn´t sleep.
This entry was originally posted at http://slashgoddess80.dreamwidth.org/12735.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
Rating: T
Genre: Romance,Drama
Summary: Tintin is upset because the Captain's addiction to alcohol. Will Haddock notice it and change for him?
I wrote that fic as a fill for that prompt some months ago but it resulted more dramatic than what was prompted. I changed the title too.
Haddock searched over and over again.
Where the hell was his whiskey?
And the worst of all, this was his last bottle.
“Thundering Typhoons! Where´s the damn thing! It was always here!”
“Is something wrong, Mister?”
Nestor appeared behind him.
“It´s my Loch Lomond! The damn bottle has disappeared! “
“Maybe you kept it somewhere else”? The good butler suggested.
“Of course not, blistering barnacles! I always keep my bottles here!”
Nestor stayed calm as always.
“I don´t see how it could have vanished Mister, unless someone had taken the bottle away.”
“What? But who would do such a thing? I´m the only one here who drinks it!”
Nestor shrugged.
“Bottles have no legs or wings, Mister.”
Cursing, Haddock approached the window. The night has long fallen; all the shops should be all closed.
“In fact, where´s Tintin?”
“Oh…he´s out since an hour ago. I believe he took Milou on a walk.”
“Thundering Typhoons, at a time like this?”
He looked back again at the window. Maybe he could get some company from Tintin at the pub…
Sighing, he sat at the couch. His throat felt dry. What in heavens he would drink now?
“Hello.”
The young reporter had just returned from the walk.
“Tintin, finally!” The Captain rose from the couch.
“Hello, Captain. Feeling good?”
“Not so well, lad, my Loch Lomond has disappeared and I´m thirsty as hell.”
“Oh…I see. Can´t you drink another thing?”
“No, blistering barnacles, that was my last bottle!”
“Captain…can you please try water…just once?”
“Are you kidding me boy, water is poison!”
Tintin frowned.
“Are you too tired to offer me some company in a pub, Tintin? I really need a drink.”
The young man stared at him for some seconds.
“Hu…sorry, but I´m not feeling well. You know…the night´s cold. Good night.”
Before Haddock could react, Tintin went upstairs to his room.
Tintin undressed, frustrated.
He wasn´t really ill.
He just wanted to avoid the Captain´s visit to the pub.
But…
What if he´s gone to the pub, without him?
Haddock´s alcohol addiction was stronger than him.
He slipped between the warm covers, feeling tears in his eyes.
So all his efforts would be in vain.
Tintin swallowed the tears, trying to get some sleep.
“Sorry Captain. It´s for your own good".
Suddenly, he frowned.
Footsteps approached his room.
“Tintin?”
It was the Captain.
“Are you all right in there, lad?”
The door opened.
Tintin closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep.
He felt his friend approaching the bed. It was quiet for a moment.
The covers were pulled up to his neck and he felt hands tucking it around him. A hand rested for a moment on his forehead, pushing out gently his quiff and caressing his hair.
To his astonishment, rough lips rested on his forehead.
“Sleep well, my dear boy.” The Captain whispered.
The door closed behind him. Seconds later the door to the room next to his closed as well.
Tintin opened his eyes in the darkness, heat spreading in his face.
Now he really couldn´t sleep.
This entry was originally posted at http://slashgoddess80.dreamwidth.org/12735.html. Please comment there using OpenID.