Two Hard Core Logo shorts

[exeterlinden]

Two HCL stories that I wrote in a frenzy for pacifi_cant  a little while back. They've been cleaned up a little since then, but are still unbetaed.

Title: Too Drunk
Pairing: Joe/Billy pre-slash
Rating: PG
Notes: Written for idreamedmusic  - thank you for the prompt!


"It seemed like only yesterday
you found that golden stick
but self-love's a bad addiction
it's a habit you can't kick"

Joe snorts even though all sound is drowned out by the noise from the stage, then turns around to push out of the half-heartedly moshing crowd, and towards the bar at the back of the venue.

"And now you're ALWAYS at it
you fuckin' ORGASM ADDICT"

It's a shitty song. Joe was never a fan of Cockbuzz, and fuck the local hype. Billy and him came to see the opening act, The Shits, and the only reason he's still here is because they've paid eight dollars to get in. Besides that, beer's only a dollar a bottle, and no one’s asking for ID.

He finds Billy at the bar, slouched down low in a bar stool. There are several empty bottles in front of him and when he turns towards Joe, his eyes are half closed, a dopey smile on his sweaty face. So fucking drunk, far beyond the ability to speak.

Billy'd been leaning on Joe through most of the Shits' concert, with his hot face pressed against Joe's shoulder. He's had at least a couple of beers since then, by the looks of it.

"You should take your girl home, Joseph," Tom shouts from behind the bar.

"Fuck you, Tom, fuck you!" Joe shouts over the din of the music, meaning it with all his heart - but at the same time he's grabbing Billy by the shoulders and pulling him towards the exit.

Billy's lost his coat somewhere, and ends up stumbling along in his shirt sleeves to the bus stop three blocks down. He doesn't even seem to notice the cold, taking big careful steps and occasionally grabbing Joe for balance.

He doubles over retching without warning right next to the bus sign, and for a while Joe's worried if the driver's gonna let them get on the bus.

Once they're safely on board, Joe makes sure to sit them right at the back. Bill's sitting with his legs open, elbows on his knees, hands dangling. Joe's surprised to see that he's smiling to himself. He looks up at Joe, friendly and benevolent like he rarely is.

"Good night, huh?" he says. His voice is slurred and raw.

"Yeah." Joe answers, at a loss.

He's not even going to try to get Billy to his own place, and either Bill doesn't notice that they pass his stop, or he doesn't care. 

At the Mulgrew residence everything's dark and quiet, Joe's parents are gone to bed a long time ago. Joe drags Billy up the driveway and up the stairs to his room.

Billy stands mutely in the middle of Joe's room while Joe fumbles for the switch to his bedside lamp.

When Joe finally gets the switch and turns back around, Billy's just standing there, watching. Joe swallows.

"You've puke on your shirt, you retard," he says.

Billy blinks slowly.

Joe walks up to him, reaches over and starts pulling at his ratty shirt, avoiding the dark stains. Billy goes along with it without protest, even lifting his arms to let Joe roll the damp shirt up over his head. Blonde strands of hair are plastered to the pale skin of his armpits. When he stretches, his ribs are visible underneath his skin.

Joe throws the shirt on the floor.

Billy sways dangerously, and Joe puts a palm against his sternum, steadying him. 

"I think you've got a drinking problem, William Boisy," he mumbles, out of habit.

"Yeah, problem is I've got nothing to drink," Billy answers by rote. It's an old joke.

Joe moves his hand away when Billy's found his balance. In the silence he can hear the blood rushing in his ears, the resonant ringing from amplified guitars.

He takes a deep breath, "Okay, pants." He reaches for Billy's belt, business-like, but Billy bats his hands away.

"I'm not that drunk, you ass," he says, laughing, and Joe retreats quickly.

It's a small bed. Hard for both of them to fit in. Joe climbs in first, Billy follows.

Joe lies on his back for a while, before turning onto his side behind Billy. The bed dips and suddenly Billy's skinny ass is touching Joe's stomach, the boney juts of his spine lined up against his underarm. Joe stills.

"Smooth, Joe, smooth." Billy says, sounding half asleep.

"Fuck you."

Billy snorts, but doesn't move away. "... It's all I need right now, oh baby, I'm melting like an ice cream bar, oh baby... " he sings tunelessly into the pillow, and Joe relaxes slightly.

He hesitates and then slings the arm trapped between them over Billy's hip.

"Shut your fucking mouth and go to sleep."

Billy does.

It's harder for Joe.

During the night, he wakes up a couple of times with his open mouth pressed against Billy's neck and shoulders, the distinct, salty-sour taste of his skin on his lips.


Title: A Spoonful of Sugar
Pairing: Joe/Billy implied
Rating: PG
Notes: Written for umbrella_half  - thank you for the prompt!


When he wakes up, Billy's gone. Joe's confused for a second, but then he realises that it's fucking Sunday. Groaning, he rolls out of bed and looks for his clothes. His trousers are still wet from yesterday - beer spills or sweat, or both. His shirt's gone. Billy's is lying where Joe threw it after he peeled it off him last night.

"Son of a fucking bitch."

Joe steps over it to get to his closet.

Downstairs all is quiet. No sign of Mr. and Mrs. Mulgrew. Probably need the sleep. Bill and him must have woken them up last night, coming in - not that Joe's ever going to hear anything for it. Just another thing to add to the list of Stuff We Ignore To Avoid Confrontation.

Joe goes outside and heads down the street. It's a three mile walk to the Tri-County Truck Stop where Billiam earns four point ninety-nine taxable dollars an hour, selling porn mags and serving coffee every Sunday.

When he gets there, Joe walks up to the dirty glass front and peers in. There he is. Billy. Behind the counter, in Joe's Chicks with Crabs band shirt, and his employee cap and apron.

"Billayh!" Joe bellows, pushing through the double doors, and Billy looks up from the magazine he's reading and grins. He looks surprisingly chipper, considering how trashed he was last night.

Joe strides over to throw himself down into a chair by the greasy tables lined up at the back. There're magazines on the table - all glitted images of cars or chicks, or cars and chicks.

"Bring me coffee, Bills!" he shouts in the direction of the counter.

He gets out a pen from his coat pocket, and settles in with one of the skin mags. A little while later Billy comes to the table with a holder carrying two cups of coffee.

"Your coffee's the one with sugar."

"That's a good girl, Billy."

Joe finishes an elaborate goatee on the center fold, and absently reaches out for the cup with an 'X' written in with a permanent marker in the little box on the lid that says "sugar".

He lifts the cup to his lips, but something about William's silence on the other side of the table makes him stop.

Arching an eyebrow at Billy, he lifts the lid and peers into the Styrofoam cup. Sure enough, there it is. A big ole' gob of spit, floating around sluggishly on top of his lukewarm, bottom-of-the-pot cup of piss poor coffee.

"William, you are too good to me."

Joe makes sure to look Billy in the eye while he lifts the cup to his lips and takes a drink, anyway. He smiles through his teeth.

Billy laughs. He puts his plastic spoon in his mouth, chews on it.

"If I'd had more time, I would have rubbed one out for you," he says around the white plastic handle. He reaches beneath the table between his own legs to grab his junk. And even though Joe can't even see it, it still does something to him.

He shifts in his seat.

"You are such a dick," he says.

"Best you've ever had, honey," Billy agrees, moving around the plastic spoon his mouth and leaning back in his chair.

And the fucking bitch of it is, of course, that he's right.


 

Comments

[velvetcure.livejournal.com]

i love these both, so much. just one right after another. there are a lot of subtle things in both, that i think really sum up their relationship. i really wish i had time to leave you a more in detail comment but i have to catch a bus to work in 2 minutes. regardless, i enjoy your writing style. i've been on the cusp of this fandom but good writing like this just makes me want to watch the movie/read the book again and start writing.

okay, seriously, i have a bus to catch. :)

[exeterlinden.livejournal.com]

Yay! Thank you. I am thrilled that you liked these - and if I have in any way helped to lure you into this tiny but wonderful fandom, I'll be well pleased with myself :)

[imaginethetruth.livejournal.com]

Ah! So fantastic. A very realistic snap shot of young Billy and Joe. Before they got totally lost in each other...

[exeterlinden.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I am so happy you enjoyed these :) For some reason I find young!Joe/Billy weirdly... sweet? In a fucked up sort of way *g*