(no subject)
Billy'd been feeling a little twitchy. It had started days ago, right after he'd walked into that fight between Logan and Neil, when Logan had brought up all that shit he had no business bringing up. Since then, Billy'd done his best to forget about it, to leave it buried in the past where it belonged, but that never worked for very long. Because now it was out there again, at the surface of Billy's thoughts, colouring everything with anger, bitterness, and uncertainty. And it wasn't like Billy could talk about it - not with Joe, not with anybody. Hell, especially not with Joe.
So Billy just stewed and festered, feeling the resentment build up without a damn thing he could do to stop it. And there Joe was, sitting on the couch in the rec room next to him, looking stupid and unaware. It made Billy even pissier. He reached over and whacked Joe on the back of the head with his hand. "Fucker."
"Jesus, what the fuck, Billiam?" Joe asked, jumping when he felt Billy smack him. He turned on the couch, his forehead creased as he frowned in annoyance and rubbed his hand over the place Billy had hit him. "Not very fucking Christmassey of you, motherfucker," he grumbled. Over the past few days Billy had seemed kind of weird and Joe was seriously going to kick both Neil and Logan in the fucking balls if their fight had anything to do with it. He was still sort of annoyed himself; annoyed that they'd used him as an excuse to fight, annoyed at some of the things they'd both said, but mostly he'd be annoyed if they said something to Billy.
"Fuck you," Billy scowled, his arms crossed tensely over his chest. "Fucking ... " Billy paused, searching for something, anything, before finally settling on, "you always keep your shit all over the place."
"What?" Joe asked, turning to look at Billy, his forehead creased in confusion. "What the fuck are you talking about?" He kept his shit all over the place? Billy sounded like his fucking mother. Or his wife.
It was probably very good for Joe that he had kept that last thought to himself. Billy's fingers drummed tensely on the arm of the couch, his eyes darting around the rec room, looking everywhere but at Joe. "Yeah, you're a goddamn fucking slob, Joe. I nearly broke my neck this morning tripping over your guitar."
"The baby manages to step around it," Joe pointed out, his eyebrows raised as he watched Billy. He looked like it was in one of those moods, those tense Billy Tallent caged animal, muscles humming with the energy for a fight kind of moods. Knowing the two of them, this shit was going to come to blows before it got any better.
"Oh fuck you, Joe," Billy snapped, and because Joe was such a punk sometimes, Billy punched Joe in the arm. Hard.
Joe almost laughed at that because it was really hard not to think of a hundred times before when Billy had punched him in the arm for taking his guitar pick or drinking his last beer or something as fucking stupid as that. Instead of laughing, he raised his hand to rub his shoulder, then reached out and shoved Billy. "Fucker, that hurt."
"Well that was the goddamn point, you stupid fuck." Billy shoved Joe back, nearly taking him off the couch.
Joe got to his feet at that, getting pissed now, because if they were going to fucking fight over his fucking guitar being on the fucking ground, he figured they could at least wait until a week had gone by since Christmas.
"Fuck you," he snapped, then punched Billy's arm in return. "It's not like you don't leave your shit lying around everywhere."
Billy got to his feet as well, glaring hard at Joe. "I do not. I actually know how to fucking pick up after myself. And as long as we're comparing each other to Stewie, he's cleaner than you, too, and he fucking shits in a diaper!"
"What the fuck is your fucking problem?" Joe asked, then shoved Billy hard again. "Two fucking days ago you're like a kid with the dog and now you're the crankiest motherfucker I've seen all goddamn month."
"You!" Billy yelled. "YOU'RE MY PROBLEM!"
And with that, Billy tackled Joe to the ground.
[Apparently Joe and Billy are learning from Logan and Neil. Unfortunately, they can't promise they won't punch anyone else. Break 'em up or laugh at 'em. Order will be your pup, Billy, Joe.]
So Billy just stewed and festered, feeling the resentment build up without a damn thing he could do to stop it. And there Joe was, sitting on the couch in the rec room next to him, looking stupid and unaware. It made Billy even pissier. He reached over and whacked Joe on the back of the head with his hand. "Fucker."
"Jesus, what the fuck, Billiam?" Joe asked, jumping when he felt Billy smack him. He turned on the couch, his forehead creased as he frowned in annoyance and rubbed his hand over the place Billy had hit him. "Not very fucking Christmassey of you, motherfucker," he grumbled. Over the past few days Billy had seemed kind of weird and Joe was seriously going to kick both Neil and Logan in the fucking balls if their fight had anything to do with it. He was still sort of annoyed himself; annoyed that they'd used him as an excuse to fight, annoyed at some of the things they'd both said, but mostly he'd be annoyed if they said something to Billy.
"Fuck you," Billy scowled, his arms crossed tensely over his chest. "Fucking ... " Billy paused, searching for something, anything, before finally settling on, "you always keep your shit all over the place."
"What?" Joe asked, turning to look at Billy, his forehead creased in confusion. "What the fuck are you talking about?" He kept his shit all over the place? Billy sounded like his fucking mother. Or his wife.
It was probably very good for Joe that he had kept that last thought to himself. Billy's fingers drummed tensely on the arm of the couch, his eyes darting around the rec room, looking everywhere but at Joe. "Yeah, you're a goddamn fucking slob, Joe. I nearly broke my neck this morning tripping over your guitar."
"The baby manages to step around it," Joe pointed out, his eyebrows raised as he watched Billy. He looked like it was in one of those moods, those tense Billy Tallent caged animal, muscles humming with the energy for a fight kind of moods. Knowing the two of them, this shit was going to come to blows before it got any better.
"Oh fuck you, Joe," Billy snapped, and because Joe was such a punk sometimes, Billy punched Joe in the arm. Hard.
Joe almost laughed at that because it was really hard not to think of a hundred times before when Billy had punched him in the arm for taking his guitar pick or drinking his last beer or something as fucking stupid as that. Instead of laughing, he raised his hand to rub his shoulder, then reached out and shoved Billy. "Fucker, that hurt."
"Well that was the goddamn point, you stupid fuck." Billy shoved Joe back, nearly taking him off the couch.
Joe got to his feet at that, getting pissed now, because if they were going to fucking fight over his fucking guitar being on the fucking ground, he figured they could at least wait until a week had gone by since Christmas.
"Fuck you," he snapped, then punched Billy's arm in return. "It's not like you don't leave your shit lying around everywhere."
Billy got to his feet as well, glaring hard at Joe. "I do not. I actually know how to fucking pick up after myself. And as long as we're comparing each other to Stewie, he's cleaner than you, too, and he fucking shits in a diaper!"
"What the fuck is your fucking problem?" Joe asked, then shoved Billy hard again. "Two fucking days ago you're like a kid with the dog and now you're the crankiest motherfucker I've seen all goddamn month."
"You!" Billy yelled. "YOU'RE MY PROBLEM!"
And with that, Billy tackled Joe to the ground.
[Apparently Joe and Billy are learning from Logan and Neil. Unfortunately, they can't promise they won't punch anyone else. Break 'em up or laugh at 'em. Order will be your pup, Billy, Joe.]