New The Black Donnellys fic - Tommy/Kevin - flick of the wrist
Hey Black Donnellys people! Head over to tbd_stpaddys for a TBD - St. Patricks comm! All fic, icons, etc are due next Sunday, 3/18, the day AFTER the holiday to allow for any and all drunken hangovers, lol. It's going to be fun!
And, you know, maybe I wrote another fic. *koff* WHAT? :D
Thanks to Allie for the beta - MWAH!!
Title - flick of the wrist
Pairing - Tommy/Kevin
Rating - R
Spoilers - through 1.02.
Word Count - 1240
flick of the wrist
Kevin sits at the kitchen table and waits for Tommy to come home. He plays Solitaire until he owes himself four hundred bucks, then tosses the cards back in the kitchen drawer and drinks half a gallon of milk straight from the carton.
When Tommy finally shows up he has his head down and is shuffling his feet. Kevin watches him from the other side of the kitchen. He can smell Jenny's perfume on Tommy's clothes from across the room.
"Long night?" Kevin loves Jenny like a sister, but part of him wants to kill her for whatever she did to make Tommy look so tired, so beat down.
"Yeah." Tommy rubs a hand over his mouth. "Where's Ma?"
"Hospital."
"Any news on Sean?"
Kevin shrugs. "Same, I think."
A truck rolls down the street outside the front of the house. Kevin wonders what happened to the van. What happened to the gun. What happened to Tommy since they split up, Kevin heading home, Tommy heading to Jenny's even though he never said that was where he was going.
Tommy starts to walk away. "So where were you?" Kevin calls, and Tommy stops.
Kevin can see him breathe deep, before saying, "Out."
"With Jenny?"
Tommy slants him a look. "Drop it, Kevin."
"Because that's a good way to spend your time. Not like you got one brother practically dying and another in jail."
Tommy stares at him and Kevin almost backs down. Almost. But then Tommy smiles a little, his mouth curving up on one side. "Is that sarcasm?"
Kevin shrugs, tries to play it off, but part of him means what he said. Don't they have enough shit going on without Tommy adding crap with Jenny into it? Jesus. "I'm just saying, Tommy-"
"And I'm saying shut up, Kevin."
Kevin's about to argue back, but the look Tommy's giving him has him snapping his mouth shut. Tommy doesn't want to talk about Jenny? Fine. Kevin doesn't need to waste his time talking about the two of them either.
He grabs his jacket from the back of the chair and shoves his arms in the sleeves. "I'm gonna go see Jimmy."
"You can't bail him out," Tommy reminds him, which Kevin knows because Tommy took all the goddamn money. Does he think Kevin forgot?
"Whatever. I'll see you later," Kevin says, and then he's slamming the front door shut and walking out into the cold morning air.
*
Kevin's twitching in is seat, the phone receiver sweating in his hand. Every time the buzzer sounds or one of the doors slams closed, Kevin jumps. Goddamned Jimmy in goddamned jail again. If only Tommy let him put half that fucking money on the horses, he could have had Jimmy out of here and then he wouldn't need to be spending his morning talking to his brother through a pane of bulletproof glass.
The buzzer blares and the door crashes open across the room. There's a guard at Jimmy's back, shoving him forward by the neck. Jimmy's handcuffed and his left eye is black. He needs a shave and a shower from the looks of him, and when the guard shoves him down into the seat and hands him the phone, he gives Kevin the scariest look he's seen in a damn long time.
Kevin swallows. "Hey, Jimmy."
"The fuck didn't you bail me out?"
Great. Kevin thought he could maybe talk to his brother for a minute before getting to that.
"I don't have any money, Jimmy."
Jimmy glares. "I told you where the fucking money was. You tell me you lost it and I'll climb over this wall and kill you right here."
Kevin can see the way Jimmy's shaking and sweating. His eyes are red-rimmed and glassy. He keeps clenching and unclenching his hands in fists. Two days withdrawal and his brother looks like a strong wind could take him down and fuck. Maybe Tommy was right.
"I didn't lose it, Jimmy, I swear," Kevin explains. "Tommy saw it and-"
"I didn't tell you where it was so you could tell Tommy, Kevin. I told you so you could fucking-"
"I couldn't help it! He saw the money and thought it'd be better if he-"
Kevin stops. He should shut up the hell up already.
Jimmy's caught him, though, and he narrows his eyes. "Tommy thought what?"
Kevin doesn't say anything. He's not going to sell out one brother for the other. If there's one thing he's learned in his life, it's that that is never a good plan.
The problem is, Jimmy's not as dumb as he looks. It takes only a few seconds for him to piece together what happened to the money, and when he does, he shouts,"Fuck!" loud enough to alert every guard in the room.
The receiver falls from Jimmy's hand and he stands up fast enough that the chair goes flying behind him. "He fucking gave it back, didn't he? Didn't he, Kevin?"
Kevin puts the phone back and stands up. Jimmy's cursing and flailing, banging his fists and handcuffs against the glass, but it doesn't matter, not really. There's nothing Kevin can do.
There are three guards yanking Jimmy away, hauling him back to his cell, and all Kevin can do is stand there and watch him go.
*
When Kevin gets home, Tommy's sleeping. He could have sworn Tommy had class today, but maybe he's skipping again. Maybe he's giving it up all together. Kevin doesn't know how he feels about that.
He stands in the doorway to watch his brother breathe. Sun is shining through the windows and Tommy's passed out face down on the mattress. The skin on his back is pink from scrubbing down last night. Kevin stares at the curve of muscle and bone, watches Tommy's chest rise and fall, and then he's yanking his shirt over his head and kicking his sneakers and jeans off.
Tommy barely moves when Kevin slips into the bed behind him.
"Hey," Tommy mumbles. "You see Jimmy?"
"Yeah." He curves his hand on Tommy's hip above the waist of his sweatpants. Tommy shifts back a little, moving slow and sleepy, and Kevin curls his fingers tighter. "He's pissed off you gave the money back."
Tommy shrugs one shoulder. "Jimmy's always pissed about something."
From this close Kevin can see faint scratches on Tommy's shoulders. A few down the middle of his back. They're scratches from fingernails, and Kevin doesn't have to ask to know who they're from or when he got them. The skin around the edges is still pink and puffy, only a few hours old, a drop of blood dried in the middle of one of the deeper ones in a clump.
Kevin drops his head and kisses the spot between Tommy's shoulders. He waits to see if Tommy's going to pull away, but instead he shudders and moves closer, one hand reaching around to grab onto Kevin's hip.
"Jimmy's in jail. Sean's in the hospital. We spent the night chopping and dumping a body, and you and me…" Tommy trails off, his face burrowing deeper into the pillow. "Why are we so fucked up, Kev?"
Kevin doesn't think Tommy's really asking, though. He's pretty sure Tommy already knows. He shakes his head and says, "Just lucky, I guess?"
Tommy laughs quietly. "That sarcasm again?"
"Yeah," Kevin tells him. "Maybe it is."
-end-
And, you know, maybe I wrote another fic. *koff* WHAT? :D
Thanks to Allie for the beta - MWAH!!
Title - flick of the wrist
Pairing - Tommy/Kevin
Rating - R
Spoilers - through 1.02.
Word Count - 1240
flick of the wrist
Kevin sits at the kitchen table and waits for Tommy to come home. He plays Solitaire until he owes himself four hundred bucks, then tosses the cards back in the kitchen drawer and drinks half a gallon of milk straight from the carton.
When Tommy finally shows up he has his head down and is shuffling his feet. Kevin watches him from the other side of the kitchen. He can smell Jenny's perfume on Tommy's clothes from across the room.
"Long night?" Kevin loves Jenny like a sister, but part of him wants to kill her for whatever she did to make Tommy look so tired, so beat down.
"Yeah." Tommy rubs a hand over his mouth. "Where's Ma?"
"Hospital."
"Any news on Sean?"
Kevin shrugs. "Same, I think."
A truck rolls down the street outside the front of the house. Kevin wonders what happened to the van. What happened to the gun. What happened to Tommy since they split up, Kevin heading home, Tommy heading to Jenny's even though he never said that was where he was going.
Tommy starts to walk away. "So where were you?" Kevin calls, and Tommy stops.
Kevin can see him breathe deep, before saying, "Out."
"With Jenny?"
Tommy slants him a look. "Drop it, Kevin."
"Because that's a good way to spend your time. Not like you got one brother practically dying and another in jail."
Tommy stares at him and Kevin almost backs down. Almost. But then Tommy smiles a little, his mouth curving up on one side. "Is that sarcasm?"
Kevin shrugs, tries to play it off, but part of him means what he said. Don't they have enough shit going on without Tommy adding crap with Jenny into it? Jesus. "I'm just saying, Tommy-"
"And I'm saying shut up, Kevin."
Kevin's about to argue back, but the look Tommy's giving him has him snapping his mouth shut. Tommy doesn't want to talk about Jenny? Fine. Kevin doesn't need to waste his time talking about the two of them either.
He grabs his jacket from the back of the chair and shoves his arms in the sleeves. "I'm gonna go see Jimmy."
"You can't bail him out," Tommy reminds him, which Kevin knows because Tommy took all the goddamn money. Does he think Kevin forgot?
"Whatever. I'll see you later," Kevin says, and then he's slamming the front door shut and walking out into the cold morning air.
*
Kevin's twitching in is seat, the phone receiver sweating in his hand. Every time the buzzer sounds or one of the doors slams closed, Kevin jumps. Goddamned Jimmy in goddamned jail again. If only Tommy let him put half that fucking money on the horses, he could have had Jimmy out of here and then he wouldn't need to be spending his morning talking to his brother through a pane of bulletproof glass.
The buzzer blares and the door crashes open across the room. There's a guard at Jimmy's back, shoving him forward by the neck. Jimmy's handcuffed and his left eye is black. He needs a shave and a shower from the looks of him, and when the guard shoves him down into the seat and hands him the phone, he gives Kevin the scariest look he's seen in a damn long time.
Kevin swallows. "Hey, Jimmy."
"The fuck didn't you bail me out?"
Great. Kevin thought he could maybe talk to his brother for a minute before getting to that.
"I don't have any money, Jimmy."
Jimmy glares. "I told you where the fucking money was. You tell me you lost it and I'll climb over this wall and kill you right here."
Kevin can see the way Jimmy's shaking and sweating. His eyes are red-rimmed and glassy. He keeps clenching and unclenching his hands in fists. Two days withdrawal and his brother looks like a strong wind could take him down and fuck. Maybe Tommy was right.
"I didn't lose it, Jimmy, I swear," Kevin explains. "Tommy saw it and-"
"I didn't tell you where it was so you could tell Tommy, Kevin. I told you so you could fucking-"
"I couldn't help it! He saw the money and thought it'd be better if he-"
Kevin stops. He should shut up the hell up already.
Jimmy's caught him, though, and he narrows his eyes. "Tommy thought what?"
Kevin doesn't say anything. He's not going to sell out one brother for the other. If there's one thing he's learned in his life, it's that that is never a good plan.
The problem is, Jimmy's not as dumb as he looks. It takes only a few seconds for him to piece together what happened to the money, and when he does, he shouts,"Fuck!" loud enough to alert every guard in the room.
The receiver falls from Jimmy's hand and he stands up fast enough that the chair goes flying behind him. "He fucking gave it back, didn't he? Didn't he, Kevin?"
Kevin puts the phone back and stands up. Jimmy's cursing and flailing, banging his fists and handcuffs against the glass, but it doesn't matter, not really. There's nothing Kevin can do.
There are three guards yanking Jimmy away, hauling him back to his cell, and all Kevin can do is stand there and watch him go.
*
When Kevin gets home, Tommy's sleeping. He could have sworn Tommy had class today, but maybe he's skipping again. Maybe he's giving it up all together. Kevin doesn't know how he feels about that.
He stands in the doorway to watch his brother breathe. Sun is shining through the windows and Tommy's passed out face down on the mattress. The skin on his back is pink from scrubbing down last night. Kevin stares at the curve of muscle and bone, watches Tommy's chest rise and fall, and then he's yanking his shirt over his head and kicking his sneakers and jeans off.
Tommy barely moves when Kevin slips into the bed behind him.
"Hey," Tommy mumbles. "You see Jimmy?"
"Yeah." He curves his hand on Tommy's hip above the waist of his sweatpants. Tommy shifts back a little, moving slow and sleepy, and Kevin curls his fingers tighter. "He's pissed off you gave the money back."
Tommy shrugs one shoulder. "Jimmy's always pissed about something."
From this close Kevin can see faint scratches on Tommy's shoulders. A few down the middle of his back. They're scratches from fingernails, and Kevin doesn't have to ask to know who they're from or when he got them. The skin around the edges is still pink and puffy, only a few hours old, a drop of blood dried in the middle of one of the deeper ones in a clump.
Kevin drops his head and kisses the spot between Tommy's shoulders. He waits to see if Tommy's going to pull away, but instead he shudders and moves closer, one hand reaching around to grab onto Kevin's hip.
"Jimmy's in jail. Sean's in the hospital. We spent the night chopping and dumping a body, and you and me…" Tommy trails off, his face burrowing deeper into the pillow. "Why are we so fucked up, Kev?"
Kevin doesn't think Tommy's really asking, though. He's pretty sure Tommy already knows. He shakes his head and says, "Just lucky, I guess?"
Tommy laughs quietly. "That sarcasm again?"
"Yeah," Kevin tells him. "Maybe it is."
-end-