Watchmen: Bill/Byron, PG-13
Title: Public Relations
Fandom: Watchmen
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Bill/Byron
Warnings: none
Summary: Whereas Byron encountered any kind of positive attention with nervous half-grins, equally as nervous laughs and few words, Bill seemed to just soak it all up and turn it into something warm.
Public Relations
The publicity stunt had been Schexnayder’s idea to improve the, in his opinion flagging, interest in the Minutemen’s activities. So the plan was to show up at a busy public place at one of the busiest times of day in full costume, letting the public know that the Minutemen were still there and still protecting them. In the end, following a meeting during which Nelson and Sally had argued and everyone else had watched on in varying degrees of amusement or annoyance, Time Square had been chosen for the appearance.
Byron hated this kind of spectacle and, taking in the enormous crowd of people surrounding their small group, was reminded why: The jostling, the noise, the sheer amount of people that made him feel claustrophobic. And he was kept constantly busy with no chance to step away discreetly to take a few moments and a few sips from his flask. Byron was just thankful that he hadn’t neglected to do exactly that on the way to their destination.
It was one of the only ways he could tolerate this: People squeezing around him, the incessant chatter of the woman that was currently hanging off his arm and her two kids clinging to him, tugging at the leg straps of his costume for stories. It wasn’t that Byron didn’t appreciate the attention. He did, on some level. But mostly, he just didn’t know what to do with it.
And that is where his second venue of distraction came in handy. Watching Bill, well, it was… like poetry. Then, to Byron, watching Bill was always like poetry. Poetry, and a calm in the eye of the storm.
Whereas Byron encountered any kind of positive attention with nervous half-grins, equally as nervous laughs and few words, Bill seemed to just soak it all up and turn it into something warm. Bill would smile freely and laugh affectionately, he’d take his time with everyone, exhibiting the patience of a saint and he was good with the children. And for all that, Bill was still nothing but absolutely humble and, sometimes, even a little bashful. The girls, of course, loved Bill. The women loved Bill, no matter what age they were. And once in a while, when Byron looked over, he’d feel that tiny bit of irrational jealousy well up. And then Bill would look over and give Byron a huge smile that spoke volumes to none other but him, and Byron would twitch an answering smile and mentally chide himself for being silly.
Bill was usually the last one to escape the dispersing crowd, this time together with Sally and Schexnayder. Byron had left early, in a car together with Nelson and HJ. That alone was enough reason to break out the drink, as the strangely charged silence reigning seemed to be comfortable for anyone but Byron. He didn’t realise how tense, exactly, he had been until he shut the door to his office from the inside, his shoulders slumping. From there on, however, Byron could calmly go about stripping out of his wings and the mask before refilling his flask in his own space. Byron’s eyes fell on the clock and it was telling him that it was just about time to saunter over to Bill’s office to wait for the other man there.
Having done so, Byron grabbed a book from Bill’s shelf and made himself comfortable on the couch, the one that had seen more of the two of them than Byron could think about without feeling a familiar heat nestle at the base of his stomach.
Bill turned up half an hour later, calling his goodbyes to Sally on the way in. He was in the middle of the room before he turned and noticed Byron. Their eyes met across the short distance of the room and both of them grinned. Then Byron got up, leaving his opened flask on the table, and went to snake his arms around Bill’s waist. Byron leant up for a kiss.
“You looked good out there,” he murmured against Bill’s lips.
“So did you,” Bill countered, giving Byron one of those smiles that always made Byron think he might melt from the inside out. He chuckled, shaking his head in amused disbelief. Byron knew that he’d probably looked every bit as uncomfortable as he’d felt, but Bill was just too damn nice to even acknowledge that.
“No. But you did,” Byron said smiling. He buried his face in Bill’s chest, pulling the taller man close. “My Billy’s the girls’ favourite.”
Bill chuckled and the sound vibrated in his chest and against Byron’s cheek.
“Oh, shut up,” Bill mumbled, looking abashed, his cheeks a little reddened, even as he wrapped his arms around Byron, securely, pulling him into another kiss. As they parted, only slightly, a slow, less than innocent smirk crept across Byron’s lips:
“Make me.”
A/N: *looks for the angst* Uh... there is none? *shocked* lol Yep, I wrote fluff. Reviews would be lovely. :)
Fandom: Watchmen
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Bill/Byron
Warnings: none
Summary: Whereas Byron encountered any kind of positive attention with nervous half-grins, equally as nervous laughs and few words, Bill seemed to just soak it all up and turn it into something warm.
Public Relations
The publicity stunt had been Schexnayder’s idea to improve the, in his opinion flagging, interest in the Minutemen’s activities. So the plan was to show up at a busy public place at one of the busiest times of day in full costume, letting the public know that the Minutemen were still there and still protecting them. In the end, following a meeting during which Nelson and Sally had argued and everyone else had watched on in varying degrees of amusement or annoyance, Time Square had been chosen for the appearance.
Byron hated this kind of spectacle and, taking in the enormous crowd of people surrounding their small group, was reminded why: The jostling, the noise, the sheer amount of people that made him feel claustrophobic. And he was kept constantly busy with no chance to step away discreetly to take a few moments and a few sips from his flask. Byron was just thankful that he hadn’t neglected to do exactly that on the way to their destination.
It was one of the only ways he could tolerate this: People squeezing around him, the incessant chatter of the woman that was currently hanging off his arm and her two kids clinging to him, tugging at the leg straps of his costume for stories. It wasn’t that Byron didn’t appreciate the attention. He did, on some level. But mostly, he just didn’t know what to do with it.
And that is where his second venue of distraction came in handy. Watching Bill, well, it was… like poetry. Then, to Byron, watching Bill was always like poetry. Poetry, and a calm in the eye of the storm.
Whereas Byron encountered any kind of positive attention with nervous half-grins, equally as nervous laughs and few words, Bill seemed to just soak it all up and turn it into something warm. Bill would smile freely and laugh affectionately, he’d take his time with everyone, exhibiting the patience of a saint and he was good with the children. And for all that, Bill was still nothing but absolutely humble and, sometimes, even a little bashful. The girls, of course, loved Bill. The women loved Bill, no matter what age they were. And once in a while, when Byron looked over, he’d feel that tiny bit of irrational jealousy well up. And then Bill would look over and give Byron a huge smile that spoke volumes to none other but him, and Byron would twitch an answering smile and mentally chide himself for being silly.
Bill was usually the last one to escape the dispersing crowd, this time together with Sally and Schexnayder. Byron had left early, in a car together with Nelson and HJ. That alone was enough reason to break out the drink, as the strangely charged silence reigning seemed to be comfortable for anyone but Byron. He didn’t realise how tense, exactly, he had been until he shut the door to his office from the inside, his shoulders slumping. From there on, however, Byron could calmly go about stripping out of his wings and the mask before refilling his flask in his own space. Byron’s eyes fell on the clock and it was telling him that it was just about time to saunter over to Bill’s office to wait for the other man there.
Having done so, Byron grabbed a book from Bill’s shelf and made himself comfortable on the couch, the one that had seen more of the two of them than Byron could think about without feeling a familiar heat nestle at the base of his stomach.
Bill turned up half an hour later, calling his goodbyes to Sally on the way in. He was in the middle of the room before he turned and noticed Byron. Their eyes met across the short distance of the room and both of them grinned. Then Byron got up, leaving his opened flask on the table, and went to snake his arms around Bill’s waist. Byron leant up for a kiss.
“You looked good out there,” he murmured against Bill’s lips.
“So did you,” Bill countered, giving Byron one of those smiles that always made Byron think he might melt from the inside out. He chuckled, shaking his head in amused disbelief. Byron knew that he’d probably looked every bit as uncomfortable as he’d felt, but Bill was just too damn nice to even acknowledge that.
“No. But you did,” Byron said smiling. He buried his face in Bill’s chest, pulling the taller man close. “My Billy’s the girls’ favourite.”
Bill chuckled and the sound vibrated in his chest and against Byron’s cheek.
“Oh, shut up,” Bill mumbled, looking abashed, his cheeks a little reddened, even as he wrapped his arms around Byron, securely, pulling him into another kiss. As they parted, only slightly, a slow, less than innocent smirk crept across Byron’s lips:
“Make me.”
A/N: *looks for the angst* Uh... there is none? *shocked* lol Yep, I wrote fluff. Reviews would be lovely. :)