so, this happened...
OH GOD WHAT HAVE I WRITTEN WHY IS THIS HELLBOY FIC WHO AM I WHAT'S GOING ON. *hides*
ETA: Hey, also, tomorrow is my one-year fandom anniversary! I shall try to have this month's holiday fic up for you all then as a present. Except, y'know, I'd try to have it posted then for you anyway, so it's not really a present, or it is, but one you'd be getting regardless...never mind. There will be fic. And maybe pineapple ice cream.
Title: It’s Cold Out, But Hold Out (It’s Only A Heartbeat Away)
Rating: PG-13 for implied sex?
Word Count: 649
Disclaimers: characters are not mine, only doing this out of affection; title from Barry Manilow’s “When I Need You” (come on, it had to be Manilow, right?)
Notes/Summary: written for a prompt at the Porn Battle General Amnesty: Hellboy/John Myers: past, sent away, tangible, come back. Lots of vaguely sarcastic dialogue, memories, Antarctica being cold. And then there’s a happy ending, ’cause I can’t resist happy endings. There's also not enough porn, because I fail at writing things related to the actual overall theme of this challenge.
“You told Liz you had me transferred to Antarctica.”
“I did have you transferred to Antarctica. Where you are. Right now.”
“Yes, I am.”
“So…how’s that, then?”
“Well, I’ve learned to make really good coffee and I fought off a pack of undead sled dogs with an empty pistol and my own sleeping kit. Keeping busy.”
“…really good coffee, huh?”
“Yeah.”
A pause, creaking tension like the endless ice.
“Heard about the Snow Queen. Not pretty. You doin’ okay?”
“…oh. That’s why you called.”
“That’s-yeah, but I-”
“We’re all right. The team’s taking it hard. They’re all young, they’ve never lost anyone before, and everyone liked Steve. But they’ll be fine.”
“Will you?”
“I’m…I think Spook misses you. She’s not used to being an only kitten.”
“She wanted to go with you.”
Another pause. Less brittle than the first. Full of memories.
“You scared, Myers?”
“…no?”
“Yeah, you are. It’s okay, last new guy ran screaming ten minutes in. Never did figure out what’s so scary ’bout me eating salami.”
“I’m not going to scream.”
A look, speculative. “Bet you will.”
“Are you busy?”
“More or less. In New York, got a nest of naga to take care of, but that’s not urgent, they’re only scarin’ people in the sewers. I hate sewers. Why’s it always underground?”
“Because the secret paranormal grapevine’s told every single person in the seven underworlds that you hate sewers.”
“Very funny, Myers. Were you always this full of charm and wit, or am I remembering you wrong?”
“You remember me?”
Bare skin and exhilaration and post-combat adrenaline. Blood in dark hair and surprisingly gentle hands, or one hand, cleaning the wounds, shaking slightly with unvoiced relief, words neither of them will say: it could’ve been worse and it isn’t and we’re here and we’re fine. Washing dirt and exhaustion away with firewarmed touches and cool water. Eyes meeting. Scents like cigar smoke and exotic spices and cheap beer, cinnamon and desert heat and brimstone. Fingertips and tongue like flame, licking over each sensitive inch.
“Told you you’d scream.”
“Didn’t.”
“You-”
“Not YET.”
Now. There’s a lot of ice, now.
“Liz and me…we called it off.”
“She had your babies, Hellboy.”
“Yeah…and that’s…that’s something. I mean. Babies. I love the hell out of those little guys. Pun not intended, don’t say it.”
“Wasn’t going to.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re a terrible liar?”
“You, all the time.”
“Yeah…about why I called. You takin’ on a pissed-off Snow Queen alone was every kind of stupid-”
“You called to lecture me about how to do my job? Which is the same as your job? Except colder, now?”
“You with the sarcasm, again, since when are you this cynical, I always kinda thought you were the good one-”
“You know when. And you’re always the good one.”
“I’m not sayin’ I don’t like it. And you and I both know that ain’t true.”
“I’m sorry about Liz.”
“I know you are.”
There’s still a lot of ice, but the sky is clear. Bright blue, crystalline blue, the blue that’ll ring like a bell if tapped by a fingernail, arching overhead.
“Liz ain’t you.”
“No one else is me, you dumbass.”
“Might have a new mission. Maybe. Just came up. More urgent than the naga.”
“Of course you do. Do you need to go?”
“Oh, I’m thinkin’ I definitely need to go.”
“…then…all right, then, I’ll let you-”
“And by go I mean someplace kinda cold. Bottom of the world cold. Antarctica. Maybe. If there might be somethin’ I could do there.”
“…something you could do?”
“Myers-”
“There…might be. Yes. Something. Someone. If you’re coming all the way here.”
“I’ll bring you salami from New York.”
“I’ll start the coffee.”
“…really good coffee, you said. I’m expectin’ this to be amazing, Myers.”
“Yeah. I know. I’m expecting this to be amazing, too.”
ETA: Hey, also, tomorrow is my one-year fandom anniversary! I shall try to have this month's holiday fic up for you all then as a present. Except, y'know, I'd try to have it posted then for you anyway, so it's not really a present, or it is, but one you'd be getting regardless...never mind. There will be fic. And maybe pineapple ice cream.
Title: It’s Cold Out, But Hold Out (It’s Only A Heartbeat Away)
Rating: PG-13 for implied sex?
Word Count: 649
Disclaimers: characters are not mine, only doing this out of affection; title from Barry Manilow’s “When I Need You” (come on, it had to be Manilow, right?)
Notes/Summary: written for a prompt at the Porn Battle General Amnesty: Hellboy/John Myers: past, sent away, tangible, come back. Lots of vaguely sarcastic dialogue, memories, Antarctica being cold. And then there’s a happy ending, ’cause I can’t resist happy endings. There's also not enough porn, because I fail at writing things related to the actual overall theme of this challenge.
“You told Liz you had me transferred to Antarctica.”
“I did have you transferred to Antarctica. Where you are. Right now.”
“Yes, I am.”
“So…how’s that, then?”
“Well, I’ve learned to make really good coffee and I fought off a pack of undead sled dogs with an empty pistol and my own sleeping kit. Keeping busy.”
“…really good coffee, huh?”
“Yeah.”
A pause, creaking tension like the endless ice.
“Heard about the Snow Queen. Not pretty. You doin’ okay?”
“…oh. That’s why you called.”
“That’s-yeah, but I-”
“We’re all right. The team’s taking it hard. They’re all young, they’ve never lost anyone before, and everyone liked Steve. But they’ll be fine.”
“Will you?”
“I’m…I think Spook misses you. She’s not used to being an only kitten.”
“She wanted to go with you.”
Another pause. Less brittle than the first. Full of memories.
“You scared, Myers?”
“…no?”
“Yeah, you are. It’s okay, last new guy ran screaming ten minutes in. Never did figure out what’s so scary ’bout me eating salami.”
“I’m not going to scream.”
A look, speculative. “Bet you will.”
“Are you busy?”
“More or less. In New York, got a nest of naga to take care of, but that’s not urgent, they’re only scarin’ people in the sewers. I hate sewers. Why’s it always underground?”
“Because the secret paranormal grapevine’s told every single person in the seven underworlds that you hate sewers.”
“Very funny, Myers. Were you always this full of charm and wit, or am I remembering you wrong?”
“You remember me?”
Bare skin and exhilaration and post-combat adrenaline. Blood in dark hair and surprisingly gentle hands, or one hand, cleaning the wounds, shaking slightly with unvoiced relief, words neither of them will say: it could’ve been worse and it isn’t and we’re here and we’re fine. Washing dirt and exhaustion away with firewarmed touches and cool water. Eyes meeting. Scents like cigar smoke and exotic spices and cheap beer, cinnamon and desert heat and brimstone. Fingertips and tongue like flame, licking over each sensitive inch.
“Told you you’d scream.”
“Didn’t.”
“You-”
“Not YET.”
Now. There’s a lot of ice, now.
“Liz and me…we called it off.”
“She had your babies, Hellboy.”
“Yeah…and that’s…that’s something. I mean. Babies. I love the hell out of those little guys. Pun not intended, don’t say it.”
“Wasn’t going to.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re a terrible liar?”
“You, all the time.”
“Yeah…about why I called. You takin’ on a pissed-off Snow Queen alone was every kind of stupid-”
“You called to lecture me about how to do my job? Which is the same as your job? Except colder, now?”
“You with the sarcasm, again, since when are you this cynical, I always kinda thought you were the good one-”
“You know when. And you’re always the good one.”
“I’m not sayin’ I don’t like it. And you and I both know that ain’t true.”
“I’m sorry about Liz.”
“I know you are.”
There’s still a lot of ice, but the sky is clear. Bright blue, crystalline blue, the blue that’ll ring like a bell if tapped by a fingernail, arching overhead.
“Liz ain’t you.”
“No one else is me, you dumbass.”
“Might have a new mission. Maybe. Just came up. More urgent than the naga.”
“Of course you do. Do you need to go?”
“Oh, I’m thinkin’ I definitely need to go.”
“…then…all right, then, I’ll let you-”
“And by go I mean someplace kinda cold. Bottom of the world cold. Antarctica. Maybe. If there might be somethin’ I could do there.”
“…something you could do?”
“Myers-”
“There…might be. Yes. Something. Someone. If you’re coming all the way here.”
“I’ll bring you salami from New York.”
“I’ll start the coffee.”
“…really good coffee, you said. I’m expectin’ this to be amazing, Myers.”
“Yeah. I know. I’m expecting this to be amazing, too.”