Bunstitutions, if you will.

[Icons] Pet Avengers, Burn Notice (quotes)

Mon, 17 Aug 2009 15:47:15 GMT

WHAT WHAT WHAT

WHERE DID THESE COME FROM

[41] Lockjaw and The Pet Avengers (Issues 3 and 4)
[6] Burn Notice (Quotes: Fiona, Michael, Sam)

PREVIEW

~*~

::Lockjaw and The Pet Avengers::

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Created with angelamaria's Icon Table Generator @ Bauble

I WOULD SAY I LOVE THIS SERIES A LEETLE TOO MUCH BUT I AM PRETTY SURE THAT IS UNPOSSIBLE.

::Burn Notice::

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Created with angelamaria's Icon Table Generator @ Bauble

I am planning to make more of these ~some day~ but each one apparently takes me, no lie, 3-4 times as long as non-textual icons. And also BN quotes really tend to be more of like, paragraphs than snappy one-liners. STILL! I will persevere.

Comment and credit is ♥
Credit attilatehbun

Drabble Roundup :: Meme, Comics

Sat, 01 Aug 2009 00:09:41 GMT

Title: Communication
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Young Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Billy Kaplan/Teddy Altman
Rating: R
Word Count: 300+
Prompt: Meme!fic ala There’s a price, for sex. by vpshinra

~*~

"There’s a price, for sex." Teddy's voice breaks in the middle of this, his teasing smile cracking around a gasp as Billy twists his fingers just so.

Billy's mouth is a little occupied, a little messy and rushed, so he doesn't (can't) say much of anything, not in words, but the high, defiant, climb of his eyebrow gets the message of oh there is, is there across just as well as Billy's normal brand of sarcasm, so impossibly deadpan.

Teddy runs a thumb along the curve of Billy's mouth. "Get with the- nng - get with the program, B," he says, laughing and shuddering both as Billy makes a scoffing noise, deep in his throat - Teddy has to curl into it.

Billy pinches lightly along the jut of Teddy's hipbone, the code in his fingers clearly you were saying?. They stutter and skip and slide, like a live wire or skittish bird, as Teddy struggles to find his breath again. Billy's impatience is always trembling beneath his skin and now Teddy can feel it sinking into his own, all sparks and power and drive, and Teddy wants that, he wants it so much, but first--

"Don't think you can distract me, Kaplan," Teddy tries again, fighting against the shifting of Billy's weight and the smooth lunge that is all skin and heat, the lunge that all but screams I beg to differ.

Teddy arches, muttering, "Hnn, bastard, no fair," tangling his fingers in Billy's hair and pulling him back enough to find some air. Billy's mouth is free now, and his lips quirk in a smirk that is all question. Because for all his rush, for all his nervous tremors and impatience and his messy beautiful mouth, Billy knows what it is to want, and that more than anything else makes Teddy press his face into the side of Billy's neck and whisper.

And because it's Teddy's mouth that's occupied now, it is Billy's turn to say - without any of the edge of his body language - to say, "Anything."

~*~fin~*~

Title: Light
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Runaways
Pairing/Characters: Old Lace, Gert Yorkes
Rating: PG
Word Count: <500
Prompt: Meme!fic ala this sketch (here) by ormery
Contains: Implied character death, spoilers of most recent Runaways arc

~*~

Old Lace blinks her eyes, trying to shake the harsh stabs of light trying to bore their way into her skull. She shakes her head a few times, for good measure, and raises one stunted forearm to her head, rubbing at it, as if the light was a creature she could pull off and bite until it stopped hurting her.

She likes to bite, biting makes sense, and this doesn't, all this blinding white light when the last thing she remembers is dusky shadows and screeching noise and the small warm weight of another beneath her. The necessity of protectprotectprotect. She doesn't feel that here, the little one is gone and the noise is gone and the pain is gone, save for the pain in her eyes, but even that's fading now, and when she opens her eyes, there's nothing but nothing and light, and Lace wants to bite.

Rrrr? The noise slips out of her, head cocked, eyes wary, and it dies way too fast with no one there to hear it. Lace wants to be angry about that, and so she is, simple. This time it's grrrrrrrr that comes out, head lowered, teeth bared.

But even that dies away, and Lace doesn't know what noise to make that won't.

So she walks, for what should be forever but somehow isn't, and she doesn't understand. With every step that seems to get her nowhere, she hunches in more on herself, more on guard, teeth more and more prominent until every step is a snarl in the shape of her body.

And then. And then. After too long (or no time at all), there is another noise through the light. Lace turns, Sssssssss between her teeth, legs taut and claws ready. But she pauses before she can pounce, before she can bite and rend and tear to find an answer. Because. Because what she's seeing couldn't be and yet somehow is.

Gert is standing there. And Lace knows it's her because she can feel her, feel the bond that vanished so long ago. Feels the Gertness of her, feels her own startling happiness reflected back towards her mixed with something else even more confusing than the vast emptiness.

Gert has water in her eyes and this gives Lace pause; she wants to duck her head down and forward, push her nose against Gert's neck, lick her because she missed her, but Gert seems almost sad, and Lace doesn't know what to do.

Gert says something, and Lace can feel I'm sorry, girl, and she doesn't really know what that means, but Gert is smiling again, and then throwing her arms around Lace's neck in that way that humans do, and Lace figures it must be mostly okay. She nudges at Gert with her nose and gives her a happy rrrrr, the one that's almost a purr, and when she feels Gert's laugh, inside and out, the need to bite fades away entirely.

~*~fin~*~

Drabble Roundup :: Meme, HP

Fri, 31 Jul 2009 23:56:54 GMT

Title: Lie-in
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing/Characters: Luna Lovegood, Dean Thomas
Rating: PG
Word Count: 500+
Prompt: Meme!fic ala It's a miserable, wet beginning to September. by shiiki

~*~

t's a miserable, wet beginning to September. Dean's roll out of bed makes it about halfway, right up until his eyes make it level with the window and he glimpses the grey skies and the smacking of raindrops on the leaves for the third bloody day in a row and all in a rush his breath leaves him and he flops back down onto the bed, thinking Oh just bugger this.

No, Dean decides, it is the perfect morning for a good long lie-in, and then maybe a cup of tea all cozy in the covers, and then perhaps a quick nap, after. And he won't even have to get out of bed for the tea, just a quick Scourgify on his tea cup from last night, a simple conjuring spell, and, Bob's your uncle. Brilliant, he thinks, and settles back against the pillows and shuts his eyes.

When he opens them again several hours later, the light has changed but not much else; the window pane is still streaky with rain and the clouds are still lending a certain "End of Days" atmosphere to everything outside from the neighbors walking their dog to the elderly wizard down the lane casting an Impervious on himself to keep the rain off. Dean shifts his focus, prepared to go back to sleep, when he spots the one other change in his immediate circumstances.

Luna is perched on a chair at the foot of his bed, sucking distractingly on the end of a quill in her right hand as she scratches a few quick lines with the quill in her left hand onto the pad balanced on her knee.

"Lu?" he asks, voice still heavy with sleep. "When'd you get here?"

Luna looks up and grins at him, before swapping the right quill for the left one in her mouth and sweeping a few curves onto the page with her new (moist) quill. "I let myself in," she says. "You looked so serene; I thought I'd sketch you down so I could keep a bit of you this way forever."

Dean can feel the heat rising to his cheeks and it makes him squirm, uncomfortable, under the sheets. "Luna," he says, coughing a bit to break the tension of her scrutiny, "that is not the appropriate response."

"It isn't?" Luna says, tucking both quills up into her mass of hair.

"No," Dean replies, sitting up and catching the delicate bones of her wrist. "If you come in while I'm still having a lie-in, you're supposed to join me, Lu." He tugs, gently but insistently, at her wrist until she topples forward, laughing, and nicks his pillow before he can get at it.

"Oi!" He says, without much heat behind it.

"So I'm to get in bed with you, am I?" Luna says with a far-too-innocent smile. "Seems a bit small, for two."

Dean sweeps the sheet over the both of them, over their heads, forming a private dome where the light through the rain diffuses and paints gentle patterns on Luna's cheeks. She raises an eyebrow and scoots closer, tucking herself under the side of his chest. The quills tickle under his chin.

"Nah," Dean says, grinning, "I think it's just perfect."

~*~fin~*~

Title: Cheery
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing/Characters: Mundungus Fletcher, Arabella Figg
Rating: G
Word Count: <300
Prompt: Meme!fic ala It was cheery, there was no doubt of that. by willow_wand

~*~

It was cheery, there was no doubt of that. Cheery, and bright, and right close to disgusting, really. What with the doilies and the sunflowers and the doilies shaped like sunflowers. And all the cats. Weren't nothin' worth nickin' neither, and that was really what was making Dung's skin crawl.

Oh yeah, them cats was doing that too, all big eyes, watching him.

For someone who could be quite the duffer, Ol' Figgy certainly had a dead creepy house. Dung wanted to leave right about the first second he stepped into the place, but Dumbledore's orders is Dumbledore's orders, and Dung might be a sneak and a coward but he never was no fool. Dumbledore's bad side is not a place he wants to be, right. Just too bad his good side comes with a mess of guard duty and a house that reeks of cat. Could've at least thrown in a couple of dodgy substances, or a few non-Ministry inspected owls. Dung could certainly have done with a nice spot of gold, these days in particular.

But no, Dung got the cheery house. Still, he's convinced it could have been worse, right up until Figgy trundles out of the kitchen with a tray (cups and saucers patterned with cats and sunflowers) full of stale biscuits and weak, reboiled tea, and asks him, without preamble, if he'd "Mind ever so much looking in on Mr. Tibbles in between guard shifts?"

Dung, upon spurting his tea all over her hideous (cheery) rug, finds there are worse places to be than on Dumbledore's bad side. Figgy's, for one.

~*~fin~*~

Title: Nightmares
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing/Characters: Ron Weasley, Rose Weasley
Rating: G
Word Count: 300+
Prompt: Meme!fic ala One last sigh and he closed his eyes, ready to go back to sleep. by birdseyeview

~*~

One last sigh and he closed his eyes, ready to go back to sleep. Of course, not everyone was in on this particular plan of his, and as usual, interrupted it before it even got started. In the beat between one breath and the next, a hard plastic cup was smacked straight into Ron's nose.

"I drank all my water, Daddy," said a tiny, feminine voice. The voice was accompanied by another insistent prod at his nose with the cup.

"Tha's lovely, Rosie," Ron slurred, not quite willing to open his eyes again and give up on the promise of sleep. "That's why I got it for you."

"I know," Rose said, the tremble in her voice still present no matter how much she tried to hide it in bravado. "I thought I wouldn't be scared from the nightmare any more. After I finished my drink. But--"

And Ron sat up, blearily yes, but up, and with his eyes open and everything. He hoisted Rosie up and situated her in his lap. "But you still are, yeah?"

Rose gave a shaky nod, that turned into a sniffle, that turned into tears and a near-wail of, "I tried to be brave, Daddy, I really did, I don't want to be scared, but I just keep seeing it when I close my eyes and-- and--"

Ron gave her a squeeze. "It's alright, Rosie, you don't have to explain anything to me. I've had quite a few nightmares about spiders over the years myself. Nasty creepy things, they are." He grinned and ran his fingers up her arm. "Too many legs."

Rose let out a watery giggle and squirmed, ticklish. "Daddy, stop."

"You want to sleep with me and your Mum tonight? Will that make it better?" Ron said, kissing her on the forehead.

Rose nodded again, serious and pale, but yawning.

"Good," Ron said, settling them both back in the bed. "Just...don't tell your Mum why, yeah? She'll think I'm putting bad ideas into your head. Merlin forbid she has to kill spiders for two of us now."

~*~fin~*~

Fic | The Problem With Planning

Fri, 05 Jun 2009 20:41:15 GMT

Title: The Problem with Planning
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Young Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Billy Kaplan/Teddy Altman
Rating: R/NC-17
Word Count: 2200+
Prompt: Billy/Teddy, the second time, a million times more neurotic & awkward (in a slight combination with [difficulty having sex b/c the lair is not so private], though I may revisit that one separately, eventually) from riko
Author's Notes: Remember how with these I was like, "MAYBE I WILL DO ONE A DAY"? pfffff. LOL, GOOD JOB, ME. (Also, again! Boxers! I think I have a condition.)

~*~

The first time wasn't planned so much as it was, well, completely unplanned.

Yeah, sure, they'd talked about it. Done the reading, done the shopping, it was on their minds. But really in more of a yeah, okay, we'll be ready, be prepared, when we want it to happen sort of a way. They certainly didn't do anything like, set aside a time or anything, didn't make arrangements.

Billy has spent a lot of his life in plans and schedules, and one of the (many) things he likes about Teddy is that none of that is really necessary with him.

So yeah, they'd talked about it without the specifics and with none of the pressure. That suited Billy just fine. And it's not like they didn't have plenty else to do.

And then. Then one day, Billy's parents were out of the house, and he and Teddy were halfway to naked and Teddy was saying Billy, please in this sort of hitch-y voice and suddenly-- suddenly using his fingers wasn't enough for Billy anymore. So he kissed Teddy, he kissed him and he kissed him and Teddy whispered please again, and then they were both all the way to naked and there was fumbling for a condom and Teddy's hot breath in his ear as Billy bit his lip and tried not to come, tried to give Teddy time to adjust.

It was amazing and bone-melting and there was no time for Billy to let his nerves overwhelm anything, as per the usual course of events, because it was all over in about a minute.

So it was unplanned and imperfectly perfect, and now that they'd done it, they both agreed that it needed to happen again, right away. And it probably would have happened again immediately - in fact, Billy had been in the process of getting right on that - and then his parents had come home and there was more frantic grabbing for clothes, only this time in reverse.

(Billy actually ended up wearing Teddy's boxers, and yeah, he has no plans on giving those back.)

The trouble is, trouble is, now that they've done it once, almost accidentally, suddenly planning is involved. They got lucky (heh) the first time, privacy sort of just fell into their laps, and so they sort of just fell into each other's laps. But now that they actively want to have sex, Billy is discovering all sorts of new obstacles. Yeah, okay, there is the possibility that some of them were there before and they were just too wrapped up in other things to notice. Sure. But Billy is starting to feel like new things are popping out of the margins on all sides, dead space is throwing up issues that apparently have to be dealt with.

Like the fact that Billy's brothers apparently live under his feet now. He could swear they were not this persistent about pestering him before, and he is way way too close to actually enchanting his door to keep them out. And his mom. If it didn't make him feel completely and utterly paranoid every time he thought it, Billy would be sure that she knows. Because she probably does. She's his mom, and she just. She just knows stuff. And whenever Teddy comes over she's barging in after thirty seconds with snacks or invitations to board games that Billy knows better than to refuse, and she looks at him, looks at him like she is three seconds away from instituting a "three-out-of-four-feet on the ground at all times" policy.

So Billy's apartment is right out.

And...that didn't use to be a problem. Not really. Because Teddy lives at the lair now, and yeah, usually at least one of their teammates is there (because they've all have something to get away from, Billy knows that), but they never seemed so much in the way before. Teddy has his own room, and the pair of them could usually hide out in there. Easy privacy. But now there's Kate trying to 'improve his fashion sense' every time he turns around, or Eli bugging Teddy for another round of the game Billy only thinks of as Chainsaw In The Face. And Tommy, being, well, Tommy, and pretty much deliberately interrupting them.

And yes, Billy knows that it's deliberate, because Tommy has the worse fake-innocent face in the history of really horrible lying faces. He doesn't even have to be the son of a woman who knows everything in order to be able to tell that.

Billy really doesn't want to hate his friends, he loves his friends, but he wishes that for once, just once when he and Teddy shut Teddy's door it wasn't banging open again before they'd even crossed to Teddy's narrow bed. He'd love them a whole lot more easily if they could understand the concept of 'personal time'.

Which is how he finds himself scratching his neck and blushing furiously, stammering a little as he awkwardly asks Kate if 'Please, for the love of god please, could she take Cassie out for coffee or take Eli on a date or something, just get them out of here. For one hour. Please' (and steadfastly refusing to think about the fact that Teddy is having a very similar conversation with Tommy, only one with a lot of angry-not-awkward gesturing and very possibly promises of money). And of course, Kate (he loves her, he does he does he does) is not making this easy on him, smirking just a little as she taps her chin with one perfectly manicured fingernail.

"Just an hour?" she says, and Billy, if possible, blushes even harder. "Are you sure you don't want me to keep everyone busy for longer than that?"

"Katie," Billy groans, beyond pathetic, apparently, as Kate smiles a genuine smile and pats his cheek.

"All right, Billy, you win," she says. "New York's a big city; I'm sure I can find some kind of crime going on, even in the absence of mad space invaders, to keep us all busy--"

Billy starts to grin at her.

"--Long enough for you and Teddy to get busy," she finishes, and the horrible horrible blushing is back.

Kate laughs sweetly, and kisses his cheek. "Have a good time."

Billy wants to fall through a hole in the floor, but he manages to keep it in check long enough for Kate to saunter out and begin calling for Eli. Then he slides down the wall and crumples himself into the smallest ball possible, torn between groans and thinly-veiled hysterical laughter. When Teddy finds him a little while later, he still hasn't emerged and even Teddy poking him in his most ticklish areas won't get him to raise his head.

"Go away," he says to his knees. "I'm trying to unmake myself."

Billy knows Teddy is rolling his eyes, and sure enough, half a second later he hears Teddy huff a short laugh before attempting to pry Billy's hands off his head.

"It can't have gone that bad," Teddy says. "I mean, they all left, right?"

"Was mortifying," Billy grumbles.

Teddy snorts. "C'mon. Kate could not possibly have been as bad as Tommy. I had to wonder, loudly, if I was strong enough to throw him into space before he'd give up."

At that, Billy tries to burrow deeper into his own knees. He hears Teddy stand, then fingers are plucking at an exposed ear.

"Look," Teddy says from somewhere above him, "we can either sit around and be humiliated, and waste the time, and then have to do it all over again, or..." He trails off significantly.

In spite of everything, Teddy's voice - pitched like that - sets a slow warmth blooming in Billy's belly, and it's enough to make him raise his head. The blush is still there, he can feel it, but now it's got its roots in something besides embarrassment. Teddy holds out a hand and Billy takes it, letting himself be pulled to his feet.

Still, by the time Teddy's door is clicking shut behind them, Billy can feel his nerves rising in his throat again. He chews on a fingernail and his eyes won't settle anywhere in the room. He wants this, he wants, and yet-- It feels so strange, planning this, kicking everyone out, everyone knowing what they're doing. Instead of feeling the freedom of letting it happen, of feeling Teddy's hips hard under his hands without knowing what they'll do next, Billy feels trapped into thinking about it, trapped in his own thoughts, a tight knot of awkwardness settling in his chest and dragging him down.

Teddy moves behind him, warm but tentative as he presses soft kisses along the back of Billy's neck. He stutters a gasp, then turns to face Teddy and tries-- tries to let himself breathe.

Luckily, that's easy when Teddy's fingers are fumbling the hem of his t-shirt a little, brushing the skin in the small of his back, and Billy suddenly finds himself hiccuping a laugh. Teddy's lips find his jaw, teeth scraping along the jut of bone by his ear, and Billy skims a hand along the back of his head, keeping him there.

"I feel kind of ridiculous," Billy says, words catching around the strangeness in his chest.

Teddy pulls back. "Do you not want--" he says. Teddy's too good of a shape-shifter for his face to actually drop, for his hesitation to show, but Billy's gotten pretty good at reading his face, especially when he's being careful.

Billy leans in and kisses him, quick, but thorough for all that. "No, no, I do," he says, rolling his hips forward and letting Teddy feel the bulge in his jeans. "You have no idea."

Teddy's eyes crinkle around the corners as he leans forward to touch his nose to Billy's. "No, believe me, I do," he says. His hands are at the button of Billy's fly, but they're shaking, just a little.

"It's just--" Billy breaks off, distracted by kissing Teddy and all of the skin he's exposed by tugging Teddy's shirt over his head. "It's just, it feels weird, is all. It was easier before."

"Well," Teddy says, sliding a hand underneath Billy's boxers, and Billy has to close his eyes against the overwhelming yes of the scratch of Teddy's nails, "we don't--" he says, kissing Billy, "we don't--" he says, "always get 'easy', Billy."

Billy laughs and tugs at Teddy's hair and wants his own shirt away. "Gee, wow, thanks, Ted, I'll be sure to write that down. I'll mark it under Really Obvious Wisdom For The Ages, As Described By Theodore Altman."

Teddy doesn't say anything in response to that, just nudges at Billy with his head, nudges him again and again, like a cat, gentle pushes at his neck, his chest, his shoulders, until Billy is laughing, falling backwards on the bed in a sprawl of elbows and knees and half-open jeans. Teddy crawls on top of him, grinning. "We'll just--" he says, "I guess we just have to, y'know, try not to think about it too much."

Billy rolls his eyes, because yeah, like that's ever going to happen, but then he rolls Teddy over instead, and jerks off his jeans, and discovers that it isn't so hard after all, to let things just happen, just like he wants.

Times like: when he's sliding two fingers inside Teddy, and Teddy groans out More, fuck, more, because, yeah, now Teddy knows what more feels like, and doesn't that send a thrill racing down Billy's spine.

Or when Teddy's rolling up, nose tight against Billy's sternum, flushed and shaking, yet still insistently batting Billy's hands away. Let me, he says, and rolls the condom down Billy's cock himself, then looks up at Billy with eyes impossibly dark. Times when Billy's heart seizes and all he can think is Yes, this.

And it's easiest of all when he has his face crushed into Teddy's neck, panting, still shuddering with the force of his own orgasm, but determined. Determined and reaching down between their sweat-slick bodies to tangle his fingers with Teddy's around Teddy's cock, the two of them crying out together as Teddy comes.

After, as they lie side by side, still panting a little, Billy lets his fingers brush over Teddy's face, down over the marks Billy has left along his neck. He can feel nerves and awkwardness and every tiny thing that makes his muscles tight and his hands a flurry of motion creeping back under his skin, but he wants to keep it at bay for just a little longer. Just one more moment of letting things be.

Teddy smiles, slow and lazy. "Feel better now?"

"Mmm, yeah," he says, bringing their foreheads together. "Definitely worth the embarrassment."

And that, predictably, is when Tommy decides to burst into the room.

Several horrified screams, one hastily thrown book, a near-apoplectic laughing fit, (and possibly a lightning bolt or two) later, Billy realizes that although he is red-faced and ranting like a maniac, swearing about not putting up with this and spelling them all, dammit, Teddy is still holding his hand, thumb rubbing gently over his knuckles, and he's not even laughing that much. Billy looks at him, at the way Teddy is still beaming stupidly, even through his smirk, and he decides, give me all the mortification in the world. still worth it.

~*~fin~*~

If anyone has any suggestions for not shitty titles I am literally made of ears.

Ficlet | Seeing, Suddenly

Fri, 22 May 2009 02:44:07 GMT

Title: Seeing, Suddenly
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Young Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Billy Kaplan/Teddy Altman
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: <800
Prompt: i like him when he's angry
Author's Notes: From hiruko_undead's prompt at the Billy/Teddy PDA fest
I actually kind of like this one, I should poke it some more.

~*~

Billy had tried to be patient. He had tried to wait it out, he had tried to sit there and quietly drink his coffee and pretend to do the crossword puzzle while he waited for Teddy to escape from his walking shitstain of a former 'best friend'. He had tried. Really.

But every time he flicks his eyes over to the counter, that prick's smug grin gets wider and wider, and Teddy seems almost to be shrinking, ducking his head and picking nervously at a loose thread on his shirt, and Billy can feel the air around him growing thick and heavy. He looks down at his arms; all the hairs are standing on end, he can literally feel his hackles raise, and everything is starting to feel crackly around the edges. He knows that if he doesn't do something, get himself under control right now, he is going to have a lightning attack of rage in the middle of a New York coffee shop, and the bad press alone will get him grounded for a month.

He stands up as calmly as he can, folds up the half-filled in crossword puzzle (he blinks at it for a second and the words shimmer blue and then suddenly the whole thing is in Russian, he thinks, and that's just weird because he doesn't know a word in Russian besides da, so where did his subconscious drag that up from?) and goes to collect Teddy.

Teddy, at this point, has actually torn a rather sizable hole in the bottom of his shirt from worrying at it with too-strong fingers, and he doesn't seem to have noticed, because the prick, Greg, is sneering openly now. Billy takes note of this, and the faint flush at the tips of Teddy's ears and only barely manages not to fry the asshole making Teddy look like that on the spot.

He wants to say a million cutting things to this kid, from how dare you to so insignificant that you can only get your rocks off by standing in the shadow of someone truly great but he doesn't actually trust words to come out of his mouth, it might be all lightning, so he keeps his mouth shut, for once, and grabs Teddy's wrist. Teddy gasps, Billy can feel a bit of electricity arcing from his skin to Teddy's, and they have to leave, now.

Billy glares at Greg, who is apparently too stupid to realize he should be scared, and wants to punch him in the gut so badly that he has to close his eyes against the magic flaring behind them. Greg doubles over coughing all the same, and Billy drags Teddy out of the coffee shop without a single glance back.

They get about half a block down before Teddy tugs him into an alley and corners him against the wall.

What the hell was that? he's saying, but everything's still blue and Billy has to discharge some of the lightning just so he can think again.

(He hopes there weren't any rats in that trash can.)

Then Teddy is touching his face, gentle, running one large thumb over Billy's lower lip. Hey, he says, hey, come back. And Billy does, he takes a deep breath and feels the magic and the power fade out of his skin.

"Sorry," Billy says, voice rough and full of sparks. "I couldn't-- Watching him, you, it was making me so angry, I just--"

"It's okay," Teddy says, a grin spreading across his face. His hand slides into Billy's hair and he brings their foreheads together. "I'm glad you did."

"Yeah?" Billy breathes the last of the magic out and leans into Teddy's hand.

"Actually, I kind of liked it." Teddy's lips quirk and his eyes narrow, and Billy can see, suddenly, Teddy's pupils are huge. "It's hot, the way the magic picks you out and leaves everyone else dark." He abruptly leans in the rest of the way and kisses Billy, and there must be a little magic left in him, because he can feel the power arcing across the distance between them. He grips Teddy's hips and angles against him for just a moment before pulling back.

He looks down. "I. It's not good, me losing control like that."

"I know," Teddy says, and resumes rubbing his thumb over Billy's lower lip. "But. I'm here to talk you down. Or at least," he pauses, eyes narrowing dangerously again, "at least find a better use for the excess."

Billy catches Teddy's thumb between his lips and a bit of something, anger, power, magic, anticipation, sparks from his eyes. He bites down gently; Teddy groans, eyes closing, and Billy smiles, just a little. "Yeah, okay," he says, and lets the magic swell around them both.

~*~fin~*~

Drabble Clean-up :: Young Avengers

Fri, 22 May 2009 02:24:34 GMT

Title: Repeats and Regular Occurrences
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Young Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Billy Kaplan/Teddy Altman
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~430
Prompt: movie theater making-out
Author's Notes: From riko's prompt at the Billy/Teddy PDA fest

~*~

"Billy, you've seen it three times," Teddy mumbles, nipping at Billy's earlobe before drifting downwards. Billy's gaze is still riveted to the screen, despite Teddy's wandering mouth, and it would be annoying if Billy's hand weren't also sliding up under Teddy's shirt to hook his waistband.

That level of multitasking would almost be impressive if it wasn't so frustrating.

"I-I don't see -oh- I don't see your point," Billy says, gasp hidden beneath the noise of the fire-fight onscreen. Of course, the overall effect of his griping is somewhat diminished by the way he angles his head back under Teddy's mouth to expose more of his neck. "You pick up more details on repeated viewing and- ohmygod right there."

Teddy bites down on Billy's collarbone, which serves the dual purpose of quieting his chatter and leaving a very satisfying mark on his pale skin. Teddy's contented groan turns into a hiss of discomfort as Billy suddenly jerks him closer and his ribs collide sharply with the armrest, but it gets lost as Billy fumbles him into a kiss. He's about to break away, find a more comfortable position, when he feels the slightly disconcerting sensation of the armrest melting away into nothingness between them and then Billy's warmth is pressed up against his side.

"Don't forget to put that back," Teddy whispers. It's too dark to see very well, but he can feel Billy rolling his eyes in response all the same. Then Billy's licking at the seam of his lips again, and Teddy really can't find it in himself to care about anything but this. The universe could be ending around them (and it kind of is, a small, fictional part of it, anyway) but that's nothing when Billy's tangling his fingers in his hair and tugging at his waistband until he has no choice but to slide one leg over Billy's lap and-- and--

And then Billy is turning back to the screen and swearing at it, despite the fact that he should really be over this whole 'black holes do not work that way' thing by now, but his hand is sliding into Teddy's back pocket even as he's muttering and Teddy really has no one to blame but himself for having the most confusing boyfriend ever.

So he settles for leaning in to lick at Billy's neck again, and it's a good thing he doesn't really mind doing that, because Teddy has a feeling that this is probably going to be a regular occurrence and he wants to test the limits of Billy's multitasking while he can.

He's got ideas for it, for later.

~*~fin~*~

Title: Melting
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Young Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Billy Kaplan/Teddy Altman
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~400
Prompt: ice cream shenanigans
Author's Notes: From kotojedi_amaya's prompt at the Billy/Teddy PDA fest

~*~

There is a dab of fudge sauce on Teddy's nose, but Billy can't even see it because of what Teddy is doing. Namely, something extremely obscene to his ice cream cone. Billy can't take his eyes off him; he swallows hard against the sudden dryness in his throat. He licks his lips in reflex.

Teddy's tongue pokes out of his mouth again, pink and pointed for just a moment before it touches the chocolate scoop. Then it flattens into a long, swirling lap around the ice cream, smoothing any drips threatening to spill down the sides. A bit catches on the edge of his lower lip, and once Teddy's finished this slow sweep, his tongue darts out again to lick at it before it can melt down his chin.

Melting. Billy's own ice cream is melting all over his hand, cool and sticky and forgotten as Billy stares. As Billy melts a little bit himself. He makes a quiet involuntary noise, a soft nngh that's as warm and liquid as he himself feels. Teddy licks at the ice cream again.

Teddy's eyes are softly closed; completely unaware, Billy thinks, of the tantalizing movement of his tongue as he licks the dripping ice cream into a wet peak at the top. Then he closes his lips around that peak, slides them down over the cone to suck some up into his mouth. He releases it with a gentle slurping noise, and Billy is done.

His own cone falls from his limp hand. Cool, Billy thinks, the inside of his mouth must be cool and Billy is so warm, every inch of him sensitive and sweaty. His clothes chafe at his skin as Teddy leans in for another lap at the ice cream, he's hot everywhere and the remains of his own ice cream trickling down his wrist does nothing to cool him off.

Cool, Billy thinks again, the only thought left in his brain as he reaches out and grabs Teddy's wrist, moving the ice cream away. Cool, he thinks, and then slides his tongue into Teddy's mouth, reaching for anything to regulate his own temperature.

And as Teddy's sticky lips move against his own, and Teddy's ice cream slick fingers slide lightly across the small of his back, beneath his shirt, and he slips across Teddy's knee, chasing the sensation, Billy realizes his mistake.

This will do nothing to cool him down at all.

~*~fin~*~

[Icons] Lockjaw and The Pet Avengers

Thu, 14 May 2009 03:17:39 GMT

[24] Lockjaw and The Pet Avengers

Preview:

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Created with angelamaria's Icon Table Generator @ Bauble

Comment and credit is ♥
Credit attilatehbun

Fic | In Which Billy Really Likes His Cape, and Teddy Likes It Too. Eventually.

Thu, 07 May 2009 00:26:20 GMT

Title: In Which Billy Really Likes His Cape, and Teddy Likes It Too. Eventually.
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Young Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Billy Kaplan/Teddy Altman
Rating: NC-17
Contains: slight bondage, kinda, terrible fashion sense
Word Count: 2000+ (lol smutlet wat)
Prompt: Billy/Teddy, cape!sex from tsaiko
Author's Notes: ...I have noticed a disturbing trend when I write about these boys, in that no matter what I seem to be writing, I always end up talking about their underpants. WTF, ME. ~~i think there is something wrong~~
Waaaaaay more to come in this vein, eventually. Masterlist here.

~*~

It starts with the cape. It ends with the cape. There's some other stuff there in the middle, a delicious-bright smudge of events in the middle there, but Teddy can say, definitely, that it starts and ends with the cape.

And hell, the cape is a fairly important factor in the events of the middle, too.

~

Teddy isn't doing much. Okay, so, he's actually sort of kind of doing laundry, because he tends to forget to do it until he runs out of boxers, what with no one really around to remind him. Not to mention the lack of laundry machines in the lair. So he's picking through the clothes tossed carelessly in the corners of his room at the back of the lair, searching mainly for underpants. It is his third day of going commando, and, as it turns out, that is really far more uncomfortable than he'd previously been led to believe.

There's a rush of wind, like all the air molecules are tripping over each other in their haste to get the hell out of the space that's about to be occupied by something else. Teddy counts a beat, straightens, and says, "Hey Billy."

The air gets impossibly denser for a moment, heavy and tangible in Teddy's nose and throat, the air molecules struggling for one last second to get themselves clear, before they settle back around Billy, suddenly standing in the middle of Teddy's room.

"Hey, Teddy, you'll never guess--" That's as far as Billy gets because Teddy snorts, loudly, then doubles over with laughter, letting three pairs of dirty boxers out of his hand to rejoin their brethren on the floor. Billy's eyebrows draw down in his face. "What?"

Teddy gasps a little around his words. "Dude, what, what, are you doing?"

Billy's lips tighten; he doesn't speak. Instead, he raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. The motion only serves to make Teddy laugh harder, because when Billy shifts his arms, it causes his cape to ripple.

Now, under ordinary circumstances, this wouldn't make Teddy laugh. Well, maybe a little. On the inside. But under ordinary circumstances, Billy wears his cape while trying to do good, be a superhero, which tends to add a certain gravitas to the way it flutters around him. Plus, he's usually wearing it with his costume. Not so much, now.

No, right now, Billy is wearing his cape over an otherwise completely faultless t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Which means, probably, that Billy was either lounging around his house, in his cape, for no other reason than that he could, or he was actually walking around in public like that.

Teddy doesn't know which option would be funnier, hence the laughing.

He helplessly flaps a hand at Billy's ensemble. "Please tell me you didn't wear that outside, Bill. Please."

Billy just purses his lips and hrrmphs a little, which is all the answer Teddy needs. "Oh, Billy, we've talked about this," he says. "That cape is just not as cool as you think it is."

"What would you know? You, if memory serves, wear a cravat," Billy says, scowling in a way Teddy kind of finds totally endearing.

"First of all," Teddy says, catching his breath, "it is a scarf, not a cravat. Secondly, I do not wear it with my regular clothes. Stealth, Billy, have you heard of it?"

Billy mumbles, "You're just jealous."

Teddy gets as far as a strangled "Jealous--" before Billy lunges at him, tackling him to the ground. Teddy lands with an ooof as Billy digs a knee into his thigh and manages to whack him in the solar plexus with a bony elbow.

Billy takes the advantage to grab Teddy's arms and smirk down at him. "Clearly," he says, "you are jealous of my superior fashion sense."

"Is that what we're calling it, then?" Teddy says, and bucks. Billy goes flying and Teddy rolls after him, hands reaching for the cape.

"The cape is lame," Teddy says, tugging on it.

"The cape is awesome," Billy retorts. He squirms underneath Teddy and tries to pull the cape back into place.

"Take it off."

"No."

"Yes."

"No," Billy says, and wriggles again, out from under Teddy's arm and around, pouncing on his back. "Ha," he crows, his weight pressing Teddy to the floor momentarily.

Now, Teddy might have super-strength, but Billy's had about twelve years of fighting with younger brothers, and those years have given him enough tricks to make the ensuing wrestling match interesting, no matter how much they both know that the outcome is a foregone conclusion.

Billy twists and writhes like a goddamn eel in the face of all of Teddy's grace of movement and his, well, brute force. Billy squirms and grabs and bites, chest trapped between Teddy's legs. He wraps his own legs around Teddy's hips and rolls them over the floor, over and over again. Every time Teddy starts to make some headway in tugging Billy's cape over his head, Billy slides and pins Teddy's arm, or his leg, or his chest, and succeeds in, if not getting the cape back in perfect order, at least in keeping it on. It's the most hilarious tug-of-war Teddy's ever been in, and he's determined to win.

They started out laughing, but they end gasping, Teddy straddling Billy's thighs. Billy's still got the cape on, but in a highly unusual fashion, and Teddy's mouth goes dry. The cape has gotten twisted around Billy's torso, cris-crossing his chest and rucking his shirt up enough to expose his flat belly and the bottom edge of rib. Teddy can't see behind Billy's back, but his hands are there and he can feel where the tails of the cape are wound tight around Billy's forearms, effectively binding him from elbow to wrist. His brains stutters for a moment, he thinks absurdly, how is it that stretchy, then Billy opens his eyes and his pupils are blown wide and bright. Teddy's heart starts to pound in a way that has nothing to do with exertion. Billy's eyes have frozen him in place.

"Oh fuck," he says. Billy's chest heaves; Teddy can see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows.

Teddy is half-hard already, from the wrestling and the feel of Billy moving around him: now Billy is spread beneath him, and he's done for. It's over.

"Fuck," he says again. "Fuck, I have to-- I need--" his fingers shake as they curl over Billy's waistband. He fumbles the button.

Billy gasps, his eyes narrow as he stares at Teddy. "Yes, fuck, get them off," he says. His voice is tight with need, but he's not begging. Teddy knows an order when he hears one, and it's enough to make him shiver and close his eyes. Yeah, it's hot as hell seeing Billy like that, but the demand, no, command, gets him all the way hard because that's what makes it Billy. All grace is gone from Teddy's movements as he yanks Billy's shoes and jeans off and tosses them over his shoulder. The jeans haven't even hit the ground before Teddy's freed Billy's cock from the slit in his boxers and taken it in his mouth.

Billy hisses a stream of meaningless syllables and arches hard into Teddy's mouth. Teddy gags a little as the head of Billy's cock hits the back of his throat, but he breathes hard through his nose and swallows as best he can around it.

Billy gasps. "Nnnnnnnnnnngh, shit, Teddy, yes, fuck."

Fuck, and it's so hot, Billy's muscles jumping beneath his fingers, coarse hairs scratching against his nose, and the sounds-- Teddy is painfully hard in his pants. He rolls his weight to one elbow as he presses his tongue flat against Billy, sliding one hand down his own stomach to undo his fly and take himself in hand, grateful for the first time in days that's he isn't wearing any underwear.

"Hnn, god, I--" Billy's bound wrists thump against the carpet. Teddy flicks his eyes up, watching Billy through his eyelashes. Billy's straining against the cape, and Teddy squeezes his hand to match the rhythm of his lips slicking up and down Billy's cock. Billy whines, "More, dammit, more," and Teddy can only obey.

The soft fabric of Billy's boxers tickle maddeningly at Teddy's chin, but he doesn't care; Billy's moans are filthy and Teddy's balls are already starting to ache with the need for release. He sucks Billy harder, deeper, not quite managing to keep his teeth out of the way, but Billy seems to like it, his head pressed back against the floor and his mouth sagging open.

Teddy pulls off long enough to mutter oh shit against the tight skin of the inside of Billy's thigh, his hand moving quick and practiced over himself.

Billy bucks up against him. "If you stop--" he bites out between gasps, "I will-- zap you-- into-- shiinnnnngh--" Billy breaks off with a strangled noise as Teddy licks a long stripe from root to tip and closes his mouth around him again. And then Billy jerks when Teddy applies a little more pressure and wriggles his tongue.

"Gonna-- fu-- Teddy, I'm co-- ah!" Billy cries out, voice breaking. Teddy's eyes flicker up his body as Billy shudders hard, oncetwice underneath him. Then suddenly, Billy's entire body arches, legs taut, arms pressed flat against the floor. His eyes fly open, bright blue magic flashing from the corners, and Teddy has exactly one second to think oh fuck me before Billy's cock pulses in his mouth and he comes.

Teddy coughs a little and tilts his head to a better angle, to swallow as much as he can. When Billy finally goes limp back down to the floor, stomach muscles still twitching jerkily, Teddy presses his face into the soft skin at the juncture of Billy's hip and thigh. He passes the pad of his thumb over the head of his cock, his mouth full of the taste of Billy, his ears full of Billy's shuddering breaths, and comes, orgasm drawing up from his toes and sparking jaggedly down his spine to spill, hot and sticky, over his hand.

He lies there, panting loudly into Billy's skin until Billy awkwardly nudges his shoulder with a thigh and says, "Come here."

Teddy obliges, crawling loose-limbed up Billy's body, pressing soft kisses to Billy's chest along the way.

Billy lifts his head and says, "Let me..."

Teddy blushes faintly and holds up his hand, feeling the sheepish smile spread across his lips. "I, uh..."

Billy eyes his damp fingers, then lets his head fall back and groans. "Oh fuck, Teddy." He swallows, and Teddy watches the long, pale column of his throat work for a moment before dropping down onto his elbows and nuzzling a kiss below Billy's ear.

"Up a little higher, T," Billy says, and prods Teddy with one shoulder. Teddy feels a small pang of guilt in his belly for Billy's arms, still pinned behind his back, and that must hurt, but it gets lost as Billy angles his head up and catches Teddy in a long, thorough kiss.

When he finally pulls away to breathe, Teddy mumbles, "That, was pretty much the hottest thing. Ever."

"Mmm," Billy hums, "You're telling me." He hooks a knee around Teddy's leg, and Teddy allows himself to lower his weight fully onto Billy, only wincing a little when his over-sensitized flesh comes into contact with hot, sweaty skin.

Billy noses at Teddy's hair. "Next time, you're wearing the cape," he says, sighing.

Teddy pulls back abruptly. "Oh hell no," he says. "In case you didn't hear me the first time, that thing is crazy pathetic."

Billy's face clouds, and in a surprising show of lower body strength, heaves Teddy off him. He rolls with it, coming to rest straddling Teddy's hips and glaring down at him.

It's all Teddy can do to keep his face solemn as Billy glowers.

"I think you'll find that to be a mistake, Altman," Billy says.

"Oh yeah?" Teddy says, his hands sliding up Billy's thighs.

"Yeah."

"Then make me take it back," Teddy says, and laughs. Because, well. There's only one way another tussle will end, he thinks, fingers finally moving to free Billy's hands. And Teddy is totally all for that.

Totally.

~*~fin~*~

YOU GUYS, BILLY REALLY REALLY LOVES HIS CAPE. BILLY/CAPE OTP, AMIRITE? It's caaaaaaanon~ as i see it, anyway

Ficlet | Superhero or Not

Tue, 28 Apr 2009 00:56:22 GMT

Title: Superhero or Not
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Young Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Kate Bishop, Billy Kaplan, Teddy Altman, Eli Bradley, Tommy Shepherd
Rating: PG
Word Count: <900
Author's Notes: Uhhhhhhhhh. This art ----> This icon ----> This conversation === This ficlet. WHATEVER, THIS FANDOM NEEDS MOAR CRACK, ANYWAY

~*~

"All I wanted you to do was remove the hat," Kate bites out, proud that she's been able to fight down the urge to scream. She's not worried, though; she's sure the screaming will be along shortly.

"I'd like to see you try to accurately aim at a speedster, Kate," Billy says, and if Kate wasn't already pretty positive that sarcasm was just Billy's default manner of response, she would be now, because despite his tone, his face is frozen in a completely expected mask of shock touched with just a hint of horror. After all, he did just turn his brother into a kitten.

And yes, she did just think that, and she's going to have to say it out loud in just a minute, and she can already feel the headache building behind her eyes. She wills her hands to stay at her sides instead of going to her temples or her bow, as they so clearly want to do, because yes, she did choose this insanity, she reminds herself.

Sometimes it's hard to remember why.

"I just-- a kitten?" she says, because it's honestly all she can manage right now, short of strangling Billy, or Tommy, or better yet, both. And she's pretty sure she'll need Billy, eventually, to put things right, and she's not quite at the point where violence against kittens seems okay.

Give her at least an hour.

"It was an accident," Billy says, and he's at least sheepish about it.

Teddy, bless his stupidly misguided by well-intentioned heart, tries to salvage something of the situation. He bends and scoops up the tiny white ball of fluff and the damn hat that started the whole mess. "It could be worse," he says, tossing the hat to Kate, who catches it without even having to interrupt her glaring at Billy. "At least we got the hat away from him."

"Not really helping, Teddy," Eli says, and Kate almost chokes on her sudden laugh, because Eli and Tommy are glowering at each other the way they always do, and probably always will, because really, if spontaneous kittenhood doesn't change things, nothing probably ever will.

Teddy reaches out with one finger, hesitant, like he can't really help himself, and scratches Tommy behind one tiny ear. "You have to admit," Teddy says, "he's a lot easier to handle like this." Tommy responds by clambering up Teddy's tshirt, all awkward, stubby legs and jerky claws, to perch on Teddy's shoulder and headbutt him happily in the ear. "Maybe even nice," Teddy laughs, and Tommy looks almost smug at Billy's shocked, "Teddy!"

Tommy glances over at Billy then bumps his head deliberately against Teddy's jaw; Billy goes bright red in the face and starts muttering furiously under his breath. Kate catches brother and molesting and lemon juice before deciding she really doesn't want to hear any more.

Eli is staring at Tommy, still perched cockily on Teddy's shoulder: he tilts his head to one side, intent. "I will grant you, possibly," Eli says, mildly less annoy--" and before he can finish, Tommy turns, and in a flash that rivals his human self for speed, has reached out and clawed Eli's domino mask neatly off his face. Eli sputters, the mask is stuck on one of Tommy's minute claws and he shakes his paw furiously to dislodge it, the mask comes suddenly free and smacks Eli square in the nose, and Eli looks as if he's just crossed the line to where violence against kittens is completely right and natural. A perfectly normal order of business. Kate moves to step in, because, really, her headache is bad enough as it is.

"Enough," she says, and all the boys (and kittens) freeze in a way that would be really very funny if it were any other day than today. "Look, I'll just-- give him to me, Teddy."

Teddy mutely plucks Tommy from his shoulder and passes him into her outstretched hand. Kate leaves him dangling there, because clearly that is still Tommy Shepherd's brain in there, regardless of his form, and she is not letting him get any closer to her breasts than is strictly necessary. She watches him sag in disappointment, before he realizes that the hat is still in her other hand. His tiny body tenses, stretching vainly to reach it. Kate sighs and she doesn't even have a free hand to rub at her face with.

She turns to Billy. "Can you fix this?"

Billy startles. "Yeah, I'm--I think so. I might need a little time..." He trails off at the look on her face.

Kate sighs again. "Fine," she says. "All right. What should we do with him until Billy cleans up his mess?" Tommy is twisting desperately in her hand now, trying with all his fuzzy might to launch himself at the absurd hat she's still holding in her other hand.

"Maybe," Teddy says, blushing when she snaps her head up to glare at him. "Maybe we should just let him have the hat, Kate. Just for a little while," he finishes rapidly.

And for that, Kate blessedly has an answer. "No," she says. "No. I don't care; kitten, or superhero, or even kitten-superhero, he simply cannot get away with stealing Aretha Franklin's hat!"

~*~fin~*~

Fic | All of Me

Tue, 28 Apr 2009 00:45:40 GMT

Title: All of Me
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Young Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Teddy Altman (Billy Kaplan/Teddy Altman pre-slash)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1200+
Prompt: The Good That Won't Come Out by Rilo Kiley, from which I chose the lyric As they chart up your insides and put them on display./They'd see all of it, all of me, all of it.
Author's Notes: For tussah for her guess on my Wordles ages ago. I keep trying to write you fluffy Teddy and IT KEEPS COMING OUT ANGSTY/WOOBIE WTF don't hate me. I went with something slightly different than my normal Teddy approach; I hope you like it? could possibly be seen to follow Just Another Day

~*~

The first time Teddy meets the team, the whole team, not just Iron Lad in the ruins of his heroes and his life to that point, he's not nervous. He isn't. Let's face it, it's just one more in a series of social situations; Teddy knows what to do. He knows how to watch them and find out what they need him to be. In those first few minutes, Teddy thinks that maybe he didn't shatter his life into pieces of dinner plates on the floor of a broken house. He thinks that maybe he can just pick up where he left off, as if the words Mutant Skrull were never uttered.

He doesn't know why this scares him more than the alternative.

He's not nervous, because he knows how to smile and be charming and turn into a green wall of muscle that has everyone gasping and falling back a step. And even that little step only hurts for a second, because in the next they are crowding around him and Iron Lad is grinning and their super-soldier is rapid-firing tactical questions that Teddy can't even begin to answer. It's familiar and known, and even if he can't answer the questions he knows what to do about the fact that they exist.

He doesn't know what to do about the tightening of their fourth's dark eyebrows.

Those first few days, it stays familiar, and Teddy moves through it as always, and tries to ignore that part of him that feels empty, like it was hoping for something more. Like maybe he wanted things to be different. He learns their names and charms them as they do something that Eli the Super Soldier calls practice but Teddy has heard Billy the Spellcaster dub it under his breath more like flailing. Teddy grins at them all and shapeshifts into whatever they ask him to try, for the team, and it isn't until the fifth day that Teddy realises that Billy has never asked him to be anything.

Once he's noticed, he starts noticing other things. Billy pretty much glowers at him all the time. And, okay Billy pretty much glowers at everyone, it's like he made a face at five and it really did freeze that way, but he seems to glower at Teddy more. Teddy can't figure it out, because usually when he smiles at at people they smile back, and whenever Teddy tries to talk to Billy, or joke, or, really, do anything remotely friendly, Billy just flaps a hand and brushes him off.

He doesn't know what's left when everything he's got doesn't work.

On the tenth day after Teddy has noticed the glowering, he's the first to arrive in the abandoned warehouse they've been using to do something that is starting to actually feel a whole lot more like practice. He sits on the floor and lets himself slump a little, because even if might feel like, to Eli and Iron Lad at least, like things are clicking for the team, Teddy knows that they really, really, aren't.

He hears footsteps behind him, and he starts to turn, practiced smile already rising to his lips. But before it can get there, he realizes it's Billy, and what's more, Billy for once isn't glaring at him. Billy looks startled; he almost drops the enormous coffee he's rarely without, and Teddy just can't bring himself to go through with it.

"Hey," he says, and looks down at his hands, suddenly exhausted to his bones. His stomach flops like a sick fish; he thinks he might vomit.

Billy's eyebrows draw down and he awkwardly folds himself to the floor, juggling coffee and bag and gangly knees. "I, uh--" he says, "is everything--you alright?"

Teddy laughs wetly, alarmed to find himself suddenly on the verge of tears. "Yeah, everything's great." And then, "I don't think I can keep doing this."

Billy's eyebrows seem glued together in the center of his face. "What, the team? The practicing? The--"

Teddy breaks him off with another sick laugh. "Trying to...being this, again." He doesn't know why he's telling Billy this, other the the fact that Billy is the first person in, well, as long as Teddy can remember, who hasn't been completely taken in by the things Teddy has been doing his whole life.

Billy puts down his coffee. "I don't--"

"I guess I thought things were maybe going to change," Teddy says, and he rubs a hand over eyes he's hoping aren't red but just can't find it in himself to shift. "Like maybe I could start being myself, but I don't even know what that is." He looks up at Billy and says, abruptly, "Why do you hate me?"

Billy's face goes confusing, and his eyebrows do some sort of wiggly dance as he tucks back in on himself. "I don't-- why do you think I hate you?"

Teddy swallows and his voice is mostly level when he speaks. "Usually people like it when I smile and shift for them and. And you've never even asked me, and all you do is look angry." He looks away and picks at a tear in his jeans.

Billy coughs around something and looks away too. "I-- I'm not really good at. At making friends."

"You did fine with Eli and Iron Lad," Teddy rightly points out.

"Yeah, well, it's easy when they're more absorbed in fighting with each other..." Billy shakes his head. "You just-- you had a veneer of just, way too perfect, I didn't even know where to start."

Teddy laughs again, still a brittle thread of tension in the sound. "There are things that are probably further from the truth than that, but not many," he says.

"Yeah, well," Billy says, and fidgets with his coffee cup.

A moment passes in extremely stilted silence, before Teddy thinks he can actually speak again. "I guess, I don't. I don't really want to have to fake it. Anymore. But I don't really know how to not."

Billy puts his coffee down again. "I don't really know what I'm doing either," he says to his feet, and Teddy just kind of closes his eyes against the tightening of his throat. "But...maybe we just, I don't know, have to try, and not worry that we're going to fuck it up?"

Teddy looks up at that, and Billy is looking at him with something in his eyes. Teddy opens his mouth to say, anything really, but then there are footfalls and the sound of Eli and Iron Lad's perpetual bickering, gradually growing louder. They look away from each other, the moment broken, and scramble to their feet just as Eli and Iron Lad reach them. Iron Lad coughs slightly awkwardly, and Eli huffs through his nose, and Teddy feels everything really click for the first time.

"Let's--let's just get started," Eli says, and Teddy turns and catches Billy's eye for what feels like the first time. Billy grins, hugely, and for a second it's like there's no other light in the warehouse but Billy's smiling face, and Teddy's heart does something complicated, but that's just too much right now, so he smiles a real smile back, claps Eli on the shoulder, and says, "Yeah, let's."

~*~fin~*~

Ficlet | Going Mad

Tue, 28 Apr 2009 00:38:27 GMT

Title: Going Mad
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing/Characters: Dean Thomas/Luna Lovegood
Rating: PG
Word Count: <1000
Contains: slight crackiness
Summary: Dean couldn't possibly be seeing what he thinks he's seeing.
Prompt: Dean/Luna, stray cat
Author's Notes: For shiiki for her guess on my Wordles ages ago.

~*~

Dean was clearly going mad.

That was the only explanation.

He rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hand, as if doing this a third time would somehow change what he was seeing. It didn't, so he tried a fourth time, just to be sure.

So when he opened his eyes for the fifth time, and the tiny seal-point kitten was still sitting on Luna's pillow, staring at him with eerily familiar blue eyes, he knew. He was going mad.

The kitten chose that moment to mewl, almost in agreement, and licked Dean's nose.

Dean tried blinking again. When that didn't work, he sat up and leaned back against the headboard. He reached down and gently lifted the little kitten up to his face. It blinked its slightly protuberant eyes and goddammit, it really looked as if it could see right through him. He would have rubbed his eyes again if his hands weren't filled with kitten.

"You can't possibly," he started. "I mean-- she's not-- she would've told me."

The kitten continued to stare solemnly at him, and did not seem to blink as much as other kittens he'd known.

"If you-- If Luna-- If she, buggering hell, pronouns-- If Luna was an Animagus, she would have told me. Unless she forgot," Dean said. "You forgot," he amended, and really suddenly felt like banging his head against something.

The kitten reached out and touched Dean's face with one tiny paw and he groaned. "Hell, you really are Luna, aren't you?" he said. The kitten predictably, said nothing.

"Right, well, leaving aside the possibility that you are an Animagus and forgot to tell me, because I reckon you'd have switched back by now, that leaves some kind of accident or curse." Dean gently arranged the kitten in his lap and tried not to stare at it too much, because he really only had about a thread of sanity left, and he wanted to add a few more before he went about snapping the ones he'd got.

"Did you get cursed? Were you experimenting? What?" he asked. Then he squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his head against the wall with a sound thonk. "Why am I expecting you to be able to tell me?"

He sat for a few more moments with his hands over his face as his brain ran in circles around the Tranfiguration books he read in school and promptly forgot all about. Then he picked up the kitten, who was purring merrily by now, and held it in front of his face. Insanity was frankly the only option left to him at this point, and he didn't like doing things by halves.

"Fine. I'll just. I will find someone to take you to who can figure this all out. Seamus-- no bloody way, one lewd joke and I'm liable to hex his bollocks right off. Neville. Maybe. But he was always pants at Tranfiguration anyway, and he'd likely be too nervous to do more than bluster." He paused to let the little kitten try and smack at his face again. "Hermione's on her honeymoon, and your dad would just want to study you. Sod it all."

He dropped his head back again and didn't realize he was squeezing the kitten - Luna - until she let out a teeny mewp. He let her down and she promptly began washing her face with one paw.

"There has got to be an answer," he said to the ceiling.

"Answer to what?" Luna said.

"Trying to make you not a kitten anymore," Dean said wearily. Then he said, "Wait, what?"

He looked up and there was Luna, standing in the bedroom doorway, draped with scarves and carrying her market bag. The kitten was still a light weight in his lap. Dean gaped.

As he gaped, Luna the obviously human being dropped her bag onto the foot of the bed and began unwrapping scarves. She was apparently oblivious to Dean's surprise. "I was a kitten? That sounds nice, did I like it?" she said as Dean opened and closed his mouth and stared between her and the kitten.

"I-- You-- But you were just. Where did this come from then?" he stammered, gesturing at the kitten, more at a loss than he had been in quite some time, with Luna.

"Oh, you found wee Bran! I'm so happy you seem to be getting along; Ginny's kneazle had kittens, and she offered me first pick."

Dean's brain jumped around a lot and finally settled on the completely the wrong bit of what she'd just said. "It's a boy kitten?"

"Of course," Luna said. She reached over Dean's lap and plucked up the kitten, who was now looking far less solemn and far more insolent to Dean's eyes. "See?" She turned him over and pointed at was clearly tiny feline male equipment. "Why, what did you think had happened?"

Dean shook his head and let out a relived burst of laughter. "I-- Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Oh, good then," she said, smiling. She gave Bran a kiss on his furry head and let him back down on the bed. She followed suit, climbing into the bed and arranging herself across Dean's knees.

"I brought breakfast back from the market," she said, as Dean idly ran his fingers through her hair.

"Hmm." Dean paused, because there was one last thing from that strange morning that he still needed to get clear. "Luna, if you were an Animagus, you'd tell me, right?"

Luna shifted to curl up closer to him. "Of course I would, Dean. If you didn't know, I could hardly expect you to be one with me, could I?"

And because that made as much sense as anything else, Dean laughed and simply said, "No, I suppose not."

~*~fin~*~

Fic | Ron vs. Crookshanks, Rounds One Through Seventeen

Thu, 02 Apr 2009 23:43:34 GMT

Title: Ron vs. Crookshanks, Rounds One Through Seventeen
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing/Characters: Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger, Crookshanks
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1100+
Contains: ridiculously devious cat behavior
Summary: Ron and Crookshanks need to stake their territory
Author's Notes: Birthday ficcy for willow_wand, someone who knows Crookshanks is to be treasured.

~*~

"Yes mum, I'll be right there," Hermione says from their tiny living room-

-Tiny new living room, and itsn't that the important bit?-

"Just give me a moment," she says, her voice growing louder. Half a breath later and she's there, standing in the doorway of the even smaller bedroom-

-their bedroom-

-and passing a fretting hand over her flyaway hair.

"I'm really sorry, Ron," she says, and he puts down his armful of boxes to catch her around the waist. He doesn't want to scowl at her; that would spoil the remnants of the day (and put a damper on his hopes for that evening), so he chooses to kiss her, briefly, instead. Much better plan, that, and he congratulates himself mentally for thinking of it.

"It's fine, Hermione," he says, and means it. Mostly. "'S not your fault. It's your mum--"

"And you know how she is," Hermione finishes.

"Merlin, do I," he mutters, and she smacks him in the shoulder, smiling.

"Why she has to take me lamp shopping now of all times, I will never understand," she huffs. "You really don't mind getting started on all this without me?"

Hermione gestures expansively around the bedroom, the heaps of boxes there standing in for all of the unpacking they have in store for them over the rest of the weekend, if not the entire week.

"Honestly, I don't mind," he says. He turns away and pluckes two heavy, leather-bound books from one of the few open boxes and crosses to the small bookshelf already next to the bed.

"Now, this is how you like your books sorted, yeah?" he says, sliding the books onto the shelf, spines to the wall(and upside down, though it is admittedly hard to tell without being able to read the titles along the spines).

Hermione is on him in an instant, knocking him aside with a surprisingly forceful bump of her hip and snatching the books out of his hands.

"Ron! What are you doing, that's--" She breaks off suddenly, and turns to glare at him. "Oh, right, I get it, ha ha, very funny." Her lips twitch (clearly in spite of herself) and that more than anything sets him off laughing.

Hermione straightens up and steps towards him (the books sitting on the shelf properly, and as sorted as two books can be, he notes with an unsurprised quirk of an eyebrow).

"Thank you, Ron," she says, and raises on her toes to peck him quickly on the lips. "I'll bring home some takeaway, yeah?" She pauses. "Home," she says, "fancy that."

He grins crookedly at her and runs a thumb along the back of her knuckles. "Sap," he says, because he simply can't help himself.

"Oh shush you," Hermione says, and before she can finish her thought, her mum calls frm the hallway, a not-quite-annoyed-but-getting-there Hermione Jean.

"Must run," Hermione says, and darts out of the room before he can distract her again. From the door, she calls, "Oh, and look out for Crookshanks? He's probably nervous, adjusting to a new environment. Bye! Love you!"

"Love you," he mutters, cross again. Crookshanks. He turns around; Crookshanks has been in the room the whole time, perched tidily atop the highest stack of boxes, staring at him as if he expects all sorts of nonsense that he will not let stand.

"Hmmph." He refuses to be outmatched. "Out of the way, cat, I need that box," he says.

Crookshanks regards him impassively, waits for just a beat too long, then stands, arches, and hops gracefully down from the stack. Once he's gone, he snorts, trying not to think of how he'd just sneered at a cat and reaches for the box.

Better stay out of the way, he thinks, and begins unpacking.

Of course, Crookshanks does not stay out of the way, not at all. Every time he turns around, Crookshanks is there: sitting on the exact box he needs, or licking his groin defiantly in the exact corner he's planning to place whatever particularly heavy item he's currently moving, or crouched in a doorway, waiting to be tripped over.

"Are you psychic, or just evil?" he asks, after he's nearly missed falling over and shattering a truly heinous vase they'd received as a housewarming present from someone who clearly did not know either of them at all. (Come to think, that almost might have been doing them a favor, but perhaps that's giving that cat too much credit.)

By the end of the evening, he's even come to think of him as That Cat, proper capital letters and all, and Crookshanks seems to know it. And be pleased by it, if That Cat's smug grin is anything to go by.

"Now I know I'm a nutter," he says, out loud, hardly even caring that it only confirms his insanity, "thinking That Cat can grin."

When Hermione finally arrives home, carrying a bag of takeaway and not a single lamp ("Don't even start," she says, so he doesn't, because he like his bollocks where they are, thank you very much) he is at the end of his (thoroughly frayed) rope. Still, he manages to grin at her, and fetches forks from the kitchen. They eat their dinner using boxes as furniture, and Hermione smiles every time he nicks a bite of curry from her Stytrafloam container, so he does it as much as he can. That Cat stays the hell away, mostly, and he feels better than he has most of the day.

They don't get any more unpacking done, which he is fine with, and not too long after the forks are in the sink and the takeaway rubbish is in the bin, he's gently steering her towards the bedroom for what he hopes will be the first of many rounds of "Christening The New Flat" (proper capitals and all). Hermione squeezes his arm gently.

"Let me go to the loo, freshen up a bit. My breath reeks of curry," she says, and he kisses her to prove he doesn't really care.

She breaks away anyway, and flaps her hand at him. "Just a moment," she says, and he grins, heading into the bedroom.

His grin abruptly fades. In another display of feline precognition, That Cat is on his pillow, tail curled neatly around his toes, daring him to try. He glares at the cat, saying, "Not this time, oh no you don't."

But before he can even take a step, Hermione's joined him in the doorway. She peers over his shoulder (technically, under his armpit, but that's just semantics) and coos.

That's right, coos.

"Aww, isn't that sweet," she says, looking at That Cat (who is about to get upgraded to That Bloody Interfering Arse of a Cat). "Crookshanks wants to sleep with us!"

He groans, swipes a hand over his face, and knows, deep in his bones, that this battle has only just begun.

~*~fin~*~

Ficlet | In Which The Cards Reveal More Than You Probably Want

Tue, 31 Mar 2009 23:43:46 GMT

Title: In Which The Cards Reveal More Than You Probably Want
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing/Characters: Dean Thomas, Luna Lovegood, Seamus Finnegan, Neville Longbottom (implied Dean/Luna, Seamus/Neville if you squint)
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~950
Contains: crackiness, underage drinking, absurd card games
Summary: Card games and alcohol are always a good mix.
Author's Notes: Veeeeeeeeery late birthday ficlet for butterfly_kate. ILU, BB. (Sorry I couldn't get in the book.)
typed slightly in a rush, mostly with a cigarette in one hand, so, uh, any errors? would love to know

~*~

It is three AM. Half the bottle of tequila is gone, and they are sitting around the Gryffindor common room fire, trying desperately not to fall into it.

(The reason they are in Gryffindor Tower and not somewhere potentially less obvious when it comes to public drunkenness is because, as Luna had so rightly pointed out, it was far easier to smuggle one Ravenclaw into Gryffindor than it would have been to smuggle one Ravenclaw, three Gryffindors, and a bottle of alcohol to the Room of Requirement. The war had made McGonagall no less strict when it came to matters of student decorum, not even when - no, especially when - said students were widely regarded as 'war heroes'.

Besides, Luna had said, the Room of Requirement wasn't functioning as well as it once had; the war had knocked sizable chunks out of its magic - not to mention its walls - and it had developed, among other things, a startling propensity to materialize a series of sparkling chamber pots at random intervals.)

So they are in Gryffindor common room, trying not to tip sideways into the fire. Seamus is fingering the neck of the tequila bottle with the sort of glint in his eye that was frightening to anyone who hadn't stuck through it long enough to know that it generally only resulted in spontaneous nudity, and occasionally shaving foam. The other three revelers had, however, and were not about to be put off at the thought of once again bearing witness to Seamus Finnegan's hairy (or not-so-hairy) bollocks.

Dean shuffles the deck of ordinary Muggle playing cards - Snap cards having been deemed too dangerous, given the expected levels of inebriation - and grins to himself. He has an inkling as to what game Seamus is going to propose. They aren't best mates, still, after all that's gone on, for nothing. Besides, they'd played the game about as soon as Seamus had learned it, testing it out, like, and it was mainly due to this little card-and-alcohol game that he'd learned the things that had also happened in their lost year, things not related to the revolution, things not told to the press or to the teachers. No, things related to his best mate and a certain forgetful, snake-slicing, revolutionary. Dean smiles to himself again and passes the deck of cards to Seamus in anticipation.

"I've got another game we can play," Seamus says, nimbly twirling the tequila bottle across the worn rug. Neville's eyes follow it blearily.

Luna claps her hands, eyes alight at the thought of learning something fresh, as always. Dean grins again; the only signs that she's as intoxicated as the rest of them is that she is--

a)sprawled across his lap and--
b)wearing her school tie around her forehead like some sort of headdress.

Quite frankly, that's not particularly out-of-the-norm for Luna, so Dean should perhaps revist his list.

"What is it?" she asks, burrowing a bit deeper in Dean's lap and searching his pockets for the bar of Honeyduke's best chocolate that she'd stashed there at the beginning of the night and already eaten two hours before.

"Sort of a fortune-telling game," Seamus says, giving the bottle one last, particularly violent spin, catching it before it spilled, and pulling himself into a less-slouched position.

"Like Divination?" Luna asks, her voice as close to distaste as it ever got.

"I don't really have a knack for Divination," Neville says, seemingly trying to focus his eyes on the end of his nose. He hiccups once, morosely, and falls sideways into Seamus's shoulder.

"Nah, it's a Muggle game, learnt it from me cousins last break," Seamus says, doing nothing to dislodge Neville's head. "Like, it's their form of Divination, though not really more suspect than ours, eh? Fun though."

Dean feels compelled to nod his agreement, while simultaneously trying to quiet Luna's hands, still in his pants.

Neville's mumbles are slightly muffled by Seamus's shirtsleeve. "So how's it played, then?"

Seamus grins broadly. "Well, first you assign an answer to each suit. Like, spades are "definitely", hearts are "yes", clubs are "maybe", and diamonds are "no". Then you ask the deck questions."

"Do the cards have a brain? Are they thinking? Because Ginny warned me, and I promised, and I don't like to break my promises. That gets messy," Luna says.

"No, it's alright, these are ordinary cards," Dean says, smoothing her hair back. "I didn't even enchant them."

"Oh, well that's good then," Luna says, and smiles up at him. "Can I have my chocolate now?"

"You already ate it, Lu."

"Oh, did I? I'd hoped I'd dreamed that part."

"Anyway," Seamus says, "You ask the cards questions. Yes or no. And it answers them. Only other rule is, if you get a maybe, you have to drink."

Neville hiccups again. "I hope we're all definitive, then, 'cause I don't think I can handle any more."

Seamus pats Neville's knee in a way he surely thinks is subtle, but is in fact anything but.

"It can be surprisingly revealing," Dean says.

"Oh bugger," mutters Neville, and everyone laughs.

"I'll go first then, that alright?" Seamus says, grinning like he's hoping for a maybe. He holds the cards tight in his hands. "Has anyone in this room...been thoroughly shagged since this morning?"

Before he can even turn the card, Neville is blushing furiously, Luna has thrust her hand in the air, and Dean is trying to shove her hand down, muttering Let him turn the card first, Lu.

Seamus laughs as he flips the card, and not a one of them is surprised when the ace of spaces is turned.

~*~fin~*~

Fic | In Which a Sleepy Billy Almost Gets What He Wants

Tue, 31 Mar 2009 20:53:12 GMT

Title: In Which a Sleepy Billy Almost Gets What He Wants
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Young Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Billy Kaplan/Teddy Altman
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1300+
Summary: Ignoring something rarely actually makes it go away.
Author's Notes: Birthday ficlet-y thing for riko. Somehow sap got into the end I don't know I am sorry.
typed up all at once, and unbetaed, so, any errors? would love to know

~*~

People are always saying that if you just ignore something, it will go away. It certainly sounds good in theory, sort of a mind over matter thing that Billy can really get behind. Putting it into practice, of course, is another matter entirely, because, right now, no amount of ignoreignoreignore is making Teddy's determined attempts to disentangle his legs from Billy's any less determined.

Billy grumbles incoherently and presses his face more firmly against the smooth skin of Teddy's back. He is having none of it, so he ignores some more, trying to out-determine Teddy, who is now squirming slightly and wriggling a bit to get out from under Billy's arm.

Teddy stills, briefly, and remarks in an almost-offhand manner, "Billy, you do remember I have super-strength, right? By which I mean, if I actually tried to get up, for real, there would be absolutely nothing you could do about it other than practice your limpet impression."

Billy rubs his forehead against Teddy's shoulder-blade. He has no intention of even dignifying that with a response, other than possibly to burrow closer. Ignoring, remember? Only way to get Teddy to stop trying to get up. Comfy couch will be less comfy minus a Teddy.

Teddy lets out a little hitchy-sigh and Billy thinks for about three seconds that maybe this ignoring thing is working, but then Teddy rolls neatly within the circle of his arm, and he can tell by the feel of warm breath and the light touch of Teddy's nose that they are now face to face. Crap. He's going to have to open his eyes.

"Mmmmwha?" Billy says, slurry and unfocused and dangerously close to pouty. He crinkles his eyebrows a little and tries to glare, since the ignoring thing didn't turn out so hot and he'll be damned if he's going to pout. "Leemee'lone."

But it turns out that Teddy's just as cozy lying like this, except that their chests are now pressed together, so that's actually better, and Billy just doesn't have the energy for any more glaring. He shuts his eyes again and tries to burrow into Teddy's shoulder.

Teddy breathes a kiss just below Billy's ear. It's still not the going back to sleep Billy was aiming for, but as far as fall-back positions go, Billy's pretty okay with it.

"Billy," Teddy says, "We have to get up. You have to get up. It's already past your curfew." Billy snuffles a bit deeper into Teddy's neck. Teddy sighs. "Your parents are going to kill you. And then probably lecture me. I'd like to avoid both, honestly."

Billy tries to say If they're already going to kill me for being late, a little later won't make me any deader. Of course, what actually comes out is "Ifgnnkil'lillawomaderer."

Luckily, Teddy has a handy set of Billy-to-English filters.

"There is the possibility of you: not-dead and me: un-lectured, you do realize this," Teddy says. Billy steadfastly continues in his non-moving ways. Teddy tries again. "Up," he says, shrugging his body in an attempt to dislodge Billy, but Billy just clings tighter.

There is a long pause, in which the part of Billy's mind that isn't already back in the warm world of sleep thinks that he's won. That part is just starting to follow the rest of his mind into dreamland, and then Teddy has to go and ruin it by talking again.

"You've got a lot of powers, Billy," he says, "but mystical sleepy-boyfriend rays are not among them." Billy can feel the laugh in Teddy's voice and Teddy's chest, and, frankly, it's not doing much to convince him that he wants to be anywhere but right where he is.

"Billy, come on," Teddy is saying, but Billy really only cares about the rumble in his chest. "Your parents really will freak. Your mom alone will have an entire litter of kittens."

That does get Billy's attention, and he blinks slowly, looking hazily at Teddy with his eyebrows raised.

"Oh, you know what I mean," Teddy says.

Billy blinks again, and shakes his head to clear it a little. Teddy is obviously not going to let him get out of this without a good reason, and since he apparently does not actually have boyfriend-sleeping powers, he's going to have to try and come up with one.

" 'lljus--" Billy breaks off, clears his throat. "I'll just tell 'em-- tell them we had to fight Swarm or something." He pulls Teddy a little closer and goes to settle back into the smooth comfort of Teddy's neck.

"Swarm?"

"Mmm," Billy says, closing his eyes. "You know. Super-nazi made of bees. I'll say he was, I dunno, attacking an elementary school or something."

Teddy hums, and Billy knows he's being mocked even before Teddy says anything. "Swarm. Attacking an elementary school. At two in the morning. Know what? Somehow, I don't think they'll believe you." Billy pinches at his ribs. "Shocking."

Billy huffs. "You are kind of ruining this, Teddy."

Teddy nips at his ear. "That's kind of the point, Billy. Come on. Up."

Billy tries one last time to make Teddy's annoyances (not Teddy himself, just his fiddling) go away through the power of ignoring them all, only to fail spectacularly when Teddy brushes his fingertips across Billy's stomach, just above his hip-bone. Billy bolts upright, letting out something that does not in any way resemble a squeal. His only comfort is that he manages to knock Teddy off the couch in the process. He glowers down at him.

"That was dirty pool," Billy says.

Teddy looks up at him, laughter glinting in his eyes. "What, you'd rather I picked you up and carried you? 'Cause that's what it was going to come to."

"Yes," Billy says, and he is innordinately proud of himself for the fact that he doesn't cross his arms like a sullen child.

"All right," Teddy says, gliding smoothly to his feet, and Billy has to stop him with a hand on his shoulder when he leans in.

"Fine. Fine! I'm up." Billy yawns, hugely, and stretches his arms high above his head. Several vertebrae pop and he sighs while Teddy winces. He rubs a hand over his eyes. "Times'it, anyway?"

"Almost three, now." Teddy hands him his pants and he stutters to his feet, hopping awkwardly to get his feet through the legs.

Billy's buttoned up and looking for his shirt when he hears a soft, "hey" behind him. He starts to turn, then Teddy is kissing him, deep, almost with enough force to send them both toppling back onto the couch.

Billy wouldn't really mind that.

But then Teddy pulls back, runs a thumb along Billy's eyebrow. It's dark, but Billy can still see Teddy blushing a little. "It's not that I want you to leave," Teddy says.

"I know," Billy says, hooking a finger in Teddy's waistband.

"I just want you to be able to come back."

"I know," Billy says, and tugs Teddy in for another quick kiss. This time when Billy pulls away, Teddy curls his hands around Billy's hips with a careful smile. Billy's heart gives a stupid, skippy beat, like it always does when Teddy looks that, and he speaks before he realizes what he's going to say.

"You can come back with me, if you want."

Teddy looks like he wants to grin, but his eyes are still shadowy, like he wants something but doesn't think that he should want it.

Billy pinches him in the ribs again. "Come on. Better than staying here, right?"

Teddy glances away from Billy, tenses for a moment, then looks back. "If your parents catch us..."

"If," Billy points out and grabs up their sweatshirts. He turns back to Teddy, and his eyes are already glowing. "Well, we'll just have to make sure they don't."

~*~fin~*~

Ficlet | Too Close

Mon, 09 Mar 2009 02:36:01 GMT

Title: Too Close
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Young Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Billy Kaplan (Billy Kaplan/Teddy Altman)
Rating: PG
Word Count: <700
Contains: bug-eating :O
Summary: It is not like Billy's a stranger to weird things.
Author's Notes: Wordle prize for riko. I don't know if I'm happy with the ending; I may have to go in and pick at it some more.

~*~

It is not like Billy's a stranger to weird things. He ate a grub on a dare when he was five, he once actually let his little brotheractually beat him at Mario Kart, he has had a time-traveling future-supervillain as a team leader, and, oh yeah, there's that lightning thing.

So really, by comparison, walking down the street holding hands with his boyfriend should not be weird. It shouldn't. And yet somehow it is. It is weirder than all of those things put together, even if you threw the possibility of maybe one day doing magic that worked on top of the pile. It makes him hold his arm stiff, more than is probably necessary and certainly natural, and keeps his eyes riveted to his shoelaces, which are fraying and not, ultimately, all that interesting.

In the grand scheme of things, hand-holding is nothing, he tells himself, nothing. It's not like they haven't kissed each other, not like they haven't touched each other, fumbling, in the dark of the alleys after practice or in the light of Teddy's bedroom when his mom is at work. So again, by comparison, not something to get worked up over.

But it is, and he is, and Billy can't stop hating himself for the fact of it. He sometimes feels like Teddy would happily, no, proudly, wear a t-shirt telling the world BILLY KAPLAN IS TOTALLY MY BOYFRIEND. And that's what this is, for Teddy. Holding Billy's hand is the form of the t-shirt he doesn't have, and Billy just doesn't understand it. Which of course, makes him feel worse, because he could not possibly be further from ashamed of Teddy if he tried. He's actually kind of stunned by Teddy, like, all the time, and that just, perversely, makes him more uncomfortable. It's just. He doesn't. Public.

It's too close. Things that Billy has kept hidden away for so long, hidden from the world, hidden from himself to the point where he almost sometimes forgets, and now this? This light?

It's like. It's like.

The first time Billy put on his costume, put on the headgear with the ridiculous wings that he secretly kind of loves and the cape that he tripped over, constantly, for days, before he finally remembered how to walk like a human being with real motor functions and not an epileptic giraffe, it felt like skin. Like the skin of the person he wanted to be becoming real and becoming him. And because of his sick, stupid, twisted brain, something like holding his boyfriend's hand, something that should be great, is exactly the opposite. Instead of freeing him like wings, it's digging up everything inside that he's shoved into a trunk, sat on, latched, and tossed off a bridge into the great chasm of denial inside him. It's digging that up and showing it to everyone, and Billy keeps expecting everyone on the street, from the vendors to the tiny french poodles, to turn as one and jeer.

It's stupid and he hates it, but that's how it is. This is something that should be making him happy, and predictably, he can't stop jumping.

But then Teddy does that thing - Billy has no idea what it is or how he does it but it always works - and Billy's tension almost entirely deflates. Teddy grows warmer, almost seems to swell, and he shifts his grip, tangling their fingers and squeezing, just a little (a lot would probably break Billy's hand) and smiles at the city. And Billy lifts his head up, and not a single person is giving them even a second glance, and it hits him that nobody cares. Nobody is even looking, and all at once Billy finds himself wanting to shout.

He doesn't, of course, doesn't shout Teddy Altman is totally my boyfriend, but he wants to, and maybe that's enough. For the moment anyway, it is, so he squeezes Teddy's hand back and grins, because even if they're in public it's still just them, and that's something, at least, Billy knows he can do.

~*~fin~*~

[Icons] Young Avengers Fanart

Sun, 01 Mar 2009 21:29:53 GMT

In the beginning, there was fanart, and it was good. Very good. Because it was good, I could not help myself. Icons had to be made. So I did. And here they are.

ormery drew the Young Avengers as kittens, and it should have been ridiculous, but in fact it was brilliant. GO CHECK IT OUT ALREADY

[19] Young Avengers Fanart by ormery
subset: [7] Aretha!hat

Preview:

~*~

001	002	003


004	005	006


007	008	009


010	011	012


013	014	015


016	017	018


019

Created with angelamaria's Icon Table Generator @ Bauble

♥ Credit to ormery for the art, plz.

PS IF ANYONE HAS SUGGESTIONS FOR OTHERS, I AM ALL ~~CAT~~EARS. (esp. as some of these are pretty crappy D:)

Fic | Incognito (In Three Movements)

Wed, 18 Feb 2009 22:32:23 GMT

Title: Incognito (In Three Movements)
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Young Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Billy Kaplan/Teddy Altman
Rating: PG-13
Contains: Crack, magical-accident!girl!Billy, italics abuse
Word Count: <2400
Prompt: Tracking down a villain involves them being forced to go on a cruise and pretend to be married.
Author's Notes: a;sldkfja this is all riko's fault. i am taking no responsibility here omg what are you doing stop looking at meeeeeeeeeeeee. *flails* no i have no idea why they are on a cruise ship also, any resemblance to an actual plot is purely coincidental.

~*~

I: In which Billy is not at all pleased, and Teddy is entirely too amused.

"This sucks," Billy mutters, smoothing down his hair for the zillionth time in the three minutes since they arrived on board. The count would have to be higher if he factors in the two hours and forty-one minutes since it had happened. Which he isn't.

Because he is doing everything he possibly can to not think about it, even though that everything is really not much of anything at all, what with being reminded of it every single time he takes a step.

He smooths his hair down again and turns his head into Teddy's ear. "This chafes," he whispers harshly.

Teddy inclines his head slightly and speaks out of the corner of his mouth. "Look, I told you, I said, you didn't have to go completely legit with this. You could have worn boxers and jeans, it's not like anyone would have checked, and even if they did, so what? Lots of people do it these days."

But he's still smirking and looking entirely too pleased with the whole situation as he wraps his arm tighter around Billy's shoulders, and Billy is not soothed.

"If you'll recall," he says, "my boxers would not fit over my hips so--" He breaks off as a rather unctuous man in an absurd jacket comes their way. The man's eyes skim right over Billy as if he is not there, and Billy scowls and smooths his hair yet again.

The man turns to Teddy, all sick smiles and fluttering hands. "Good afternoon, sir," he says, "how might I help you?"

Teddy, that bastard, ignores the lightning arcing between Billy's fingertips and smiles his most charming smile. He reaches down and grips Billy's hand, squeezing a little to extinguish the lightning, and says, "Yes, we'd- we'd like to check in?" He hands their tickets to the man, who glances at them, says, "Just one moment, sir," and scurries back into his office.

There's laughter glinting in Teddy's eyes as he says out of the corner of his mouth, "Don't pout, sweetie, you'll ruin your pretty face."

"Goddammit, I am not pouting," Billy hisses, and pulls his lower lip in, just to be sure.

"Whatever you say, dear."

Billy does not at all appreciate the smirk that accompanies Teddy's words. "A-are you? Are you patronizing me?"

"Of course not." Teddy pats his hand. "I'm not patronizing you, Billy, I am mocking you. Openly mocking you."

Billy grumbles darkly and it is a struggle to come up with a non-murderous smile when the man in the ridiculous jacket reappears. Even more so that Teddy seems to have no trouble whatsoever.

"Everything seems to be in order," the man says, "If you'll follow me, I'll show you to your cabin."

Teddy follows as if he hadn't a care in the world, and Billy glares at his back, saying (as much under his breath as he can manage), "Going to kill you. So many times, going to kill you."

Teddy snags him by the wrist and tugs him along. Glancing forward to make sure they're enough out of ear-shot, he leans in to whisper, "Oh really. Been working on a resurrection spell, have you?"

Billy pokes him in the kidneys. It does absolutely nothing.

They're walking past a long bank of mirrors now, and Billy is doing his best to ignore them. With another glance at the steward, Teddy leans in again. "You know, it's not like I wasn't willing to do it. Was planning to, actually. It's kind of what I do. But no, you had to go messing about with your magic, just to see, and now look where we are. I mean, you've got no right to complain. I could, but I won't, because you really are cute when you pout." He points to the mirrors as he says this.

Billy tries to say something stunningly witty (probably something along the lines of 'Shut up it is not cute and also for the last time I am not pouting'), but he catches sight of himself in the mirror and his train of thought departs the station without him once again.

He still looks mostly like himself, scowling (not pouting!) in a very manly fashion, with dark hair and dark eyes, and the same basic features. But the dark hair is long, past his shoulders, and oh yeah, there are breasts. Breasts, and hips that could almost be described as child-bearing, all wrapped up in a silk blouse and loose skirt that he snagged from the stash of extra clothes Kate keeps at the Lair in case she needs to switch out of her uniform in a hurry. Billy chooses to not focus on the breasts (he's spent most of his life not caring about breasts and it shouldn't be too hard to keep right on not caring even if they are now attached to him) and instead focuses on staying very, very clean, because the blouse alone probably costs more than his rent for a month, and while Kate probably wouldn't give a shit if it got ruined, Billy would. Thinking about taking very good care of Kate's clothes is about the only think keeping him sane at the moment.

He sighs and smooths the newly long hair again, and follows after Teddy, grumpy over the fact that he can't even shove his hands into his pockets like he wants because he doesn't have any.

When he catches up, Teddy tugs on a lock of his hair and raises an eyebrow at him. "Hey, it'll be okay."

Billy rolls his eyes. His hand moves instinctively to readjust parts he doesn't even have right now, because the damn underwear he bought in order to be authentic is lace and is itchy in ways he hadn't thought possible before. Teddy smacks his hand away before it can get there and laughs as Billy's glare turns into a defeated sigh.

"Women don't usually scratch their junk in public, B," he says and scratches his chin. "Actually, they don't usually slouch so much either, and you should probably sway a bit more when you walk."

Billy sputters for a moment before he can find words. "How the hell do you even know that, Teddy?"

Teddy snorts. "Right, because it's not like I've ever had to shift to a girl for a mission before. Clearly I have no idea what I'm doing."

Billy smacks a palm to his face before he even thinks about it. His words come out slightly muffled. "Right, sorry. In my defense though, that's usually when I run screaming out of the room."

Teddy bumps him with his shoulder. "What, you don't like the way I look as a girl?"

"Shockingly, no, T, I don't. Weird."

Teddy slings an arm around Billy's shoulders. "Your sarcasm is useless on me, Ms. Kaplan," he says.

Billy glares and continues. "For some reason, I prefer the fact that you are guy." He rolls his eyes at Teddy's smirk. "I still have nightmares about you looking like Lindsay Lohan."

Teddy leans in to whisper in Billy's ear, "Me too," but then the steward has unlocked their cabin with a gracious Here you are, Mr. and Mrs. Altman, and once he's gone, it's time to get to work.

II: In which Billy is grumpy, and Teddy is joining him.

"Oh shit."

"'Shit' isn't my name, Teddy," says Billy, words slightly strained given that he is lying in the most unladylike position he can manage, head dangling off the end of the bed.

Teddy ignores this. "I just. Do you see how many compartments there are on this ship? Not to mention things that aren't compartments but could easily hide a person for days?" Teddy stares at the 'borrowed' diagrams spread out over the tiny table as if, solely by staring, he could will the location of their quarry to light up and flash. And possibly emit some streamers.

And yes, Billy has already tried that, but apparently this particular powered criminal can either block locating spells himself, or has someone else doing it for him. Billy doesn't really want to try the spell again again, for fear of setting the cruise-liner on fire. Or unexisting it. Or something worse.

"So you're saying, basically," Billy says slowly, rotating himself around and tugging irritably at the skirt that insists on riding up his thighs (hairless thighs, his brain tries to add, but he tells it to shut up and get back to thinking of a way around the location deflection thing.), "that we aren't going to get off this cruise ship before it leaves port, are we?"

Just then, the horn sounds, signaling both the ship leaving the harbor as well as Billy's doom.

"It was a solid tip," Teddy says awkwardly and shuffles the diagrams as if they've done him personal harm.

"Teddy."

"He's got to be here."

"Teddy." Billy rears up on his knees.

"I mean, we'll find him, then arrest him, and everything will be fine."

"Teddy, I didn't bring any extra clothes."

Teddy finally looks up at him. "It's not my fault that you forgot to pack anything."

"Forgot to pack anything? Pack what? Some cute little number from my huge wardrobe of women's cloth--" Billy breaks off with a strangled sound and flops face-first into the pillow. "I cannot believe those words just came out of my mouth."

Teddy doesn't laugh, he just continues to stare gloomily at the diagrams. "I wasn't counting on this guy being able to counter your magic, all right?"

"Maybe you should have gotten better information," Billy says into the pillow.

"Do you think I wanted this to be this complicated?" Teddy says.

Billy pulls the pillow tighter against his face. Maybe suffocation will save him. "No, but I think you should have planned better."

"Look who's talking!"

"Hey, I didn't get us stuck here through my lack of underwear!" Billy says, sitting up.

Teddy tugs at his hair and only barely keeps himself from banging his head on the table. "I didn't ask to get us stuck here!"

"Neither did I!"

Teddy says, "Then why are we fighting?" and gives in, finally dropping his head to the table. There is a resounding klonk.

"Because we're pretending to be married and we are staying in character!" Billy cries before collapsing to the bed. He turns his head in time to catch the slight quirking of Teddy's lips. It lasts for about a second, and then Teddy erupts into giggles which gets Billy going, and neither stops for quite some time.

Finally, Teddy climbs onto the bed next to Billy and drops his face into Billy's neck. "I guess we'll just have to find him the old fashioned way," he mutters into Billy's skin.

"What, brainwashing?"

Teddy pokes Billy in the chest, carefully avoiding his breasts. "Looking. And asking. And probably more looking."

Billy groans. "Jesus, Teddy, I can't go out there. When I went out on deck earlier, no less than three women asked who designed such a, quote, fabulous skirt. What the hell am I supposed to say?"

Teddy snorts and props himself up over Billy. "Okay, you, officially, are the worst gay boy ever."

Billy, of course, smacks him in the shoulder.

"I am not the worst gay boy ever, what I am, is a terrible girl." Billy pauses. "Or at least, a terrible girl-with-Kate's-fashion-sense. Urgh, this is horrible."

"Oh quit griping," Teddy says, but his voice is filled with affection. Billy is about to smile and kiss him, when he continues, "Listen to your husband."

Billy shoves him off and Teddy, laughing, leans over to kiss his very-manly-not-pout.

"Look at it this way," Teddy says. "There are worse places to be stuck with your boyfriend than on a romantic cruise--"

"Sweaty tourists with sunburns and too-tight tee-shirts are not romantic, T," Billy interrupts, on principle really, because Teddy has a point.

Luckily Teddy ignores him. "So we'll just catch this guy quick, toss him in the hold somewhere, and spend the rest of the trip in the cabin."

"Teddy, I'm still a girl."

Teddy flicks him lightly in the center of the forehead and says, "One with magic, Billy. And you don't need to stay incognito in here, do you?"

Billy can feel a lecherous grin spreading across his face. "Hmmm, you just might be right. Probably don't even need to worry about not having any clothes either."

Teddy grins as Billy's eyes start to flare blue. "I can't possibly see that being a problem."

III: In which Billy is amused, and Teddy is not so much.

Billy trudges down the gangplank, most of his concentration focused on keeping the bound criminal beside him invisible. The rest is spent trying to remember how to walk in heels.

Teddy follows, keeping one eye on the general area of Billy's spell, but mostly just trying not to wince too obviously.

"Doing okay back there, honey?" Billy says, his voice too high and too sugary. He can feel Teddy glaring at his back and tries not to laugh.

"This sucks," Teddy rumbles.

Billy waits a beat, and maneuvers the invisible, self-proclaimed "Great MacGuffin" through the crowds on the docks.

"This chafes," Teddy says a moment later.

Billy reaches back and gingerly takes Teddy's hand. "I told you--" he says with a smirk, but Teddy won't let him finish.

"I have never gotten sunburnt before!" Teddy says. "If you'll recall, I have been" - he looks around quickly- "actually burned, like, on fire, and healed from it. Why can't I heal from this?" he finishes in a whisper.

Billy leans close. "Maybe it's the Kree physiology? And the Skrull just can't cancel it out?"

"I don't know, but it sucks," Teddy says. He moves to pick at the skin peeling from his arms, and Billy smacks his hand away.

"Just leave it alone, and I'll buy you some lotion when we've gotten rid of this asshole," he says.

"Help me put it on?" Teddy asks with half of a hopeful grin.

Billy smooths his hair down, and smirks with a glint of blue. "Of course."

~*~fin~*~

Fic | Oh, Monkey Trumpets

Thu, 12 Feb 2009 01:53:47 GMT

Title: Oh, Monkey Trumpets (as per Mags)
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing/Characters: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood, wee! Teddy Lupin
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: <2300
Contains: flailing. a lot of it.
Summary: Teddy has a serious ailment and the boys completely do not panic. At all. Really. They swear.
Author's Notes: Spontaneous "oh shi- this went long" fic for magglenagall, for one seriously inspiring prompt, not to mention, y'know, the awesome. Unbetaed, so, again, y'know.

~*~

"So you've got the ankle-biter tonight then, eh?" Ron said, leaving off fiddling with the dials on the wireless and flopping into the seat next to Harry.

"Dunno, Ron," Harry said, squinting at the small figure perched awkwardly on his knee. "I don't think he's big enough yet to qualify as an ankle-biter." Harry reached out and poked it gently in the middle.

Teddy gurgled happily in response and blew a spit bubble.

Harry leaned back and scratched his head. "Maybe just a toe-nibbler?"

Ron snorted and uncorked two bottles of Butterbeer. "Well, he seems quiet enough, I'll give him that. Wouldn't want to miss any of the match," he said, gesturing at the wireless. "Should start any minute now."

With that, Ron passed one of the bottles over to Harry, who managed to juggle both it and the baby, miraculously dropping neither. A bit of Butterbeer spilled on the cushion, but Harry decided he'd just flip that over later and no one would be the wiser.

"Should I?" Harry started. "Maybe I should put him down? Dunno if I can hold him up for the entire match. Sometimes he gets squirmy."

Ron shrugged. "Like I would know? Where can you put 'im anyway?"

Harry jumped up and shoved Teddy at Ron, who took him in reflex and looked like he wanted to grip him like a Quaffle but wasn't sure how. "Oh! Andromeda gave me--" He bent over and rummaged beneath the sofa. "Ah, here. She lent me this. It's a cradle or something. She used a fancier word for it." He paused and looked at Ron, who stared just as blankly back.

"Oh, give him here," Harry said, and tutted in a frighteningly maternal fashion. He grabbed Teddy gingerly and held him at arm's length.

"I don't think he's going to break, mate," Ron said with a smirk at Harry's expression.

"You never know, he just might at that."

Harry turned and laid him down in the cradle-thing, adjusting it so it would be at his feet if Teddy needed something. Meanwhile, the match was getting off to a fantastic start, with the Cannons down 40-0 in the first two minutes of the game. As Harry was settling into a lazy rocking motion between his foot and the cradle-thing, Ron was already starting to groan and tug his hair into progressively wierder shapes.

Fifteen minutes later he was so fed up with the score (now 120-10) that he started to reach for a bottle of Firewhisky, but Harry looked up, then glanced at Teddy, and then looked back at Ron. Ron sighed and grumbled something about him not being the bloody godfather, but he put the bottle back and opened another Butterbeer.

"Cheer up, Ron," Harry said. "Can't be that bad, they've been doing better this season."

"If by better, you mean narrowing the margin of loss from 200 points to only 180."

"Yes, Ron, yes, that is exactly what I meant," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

Ron sighed and pressed the heel of the hand not holding a Butterbeer to his eye, and was quiet.

And things stayed quiet until they broke for the half and there was a tiny little up noise that was almost lost in the cheers of the stadium crowd. Ron reached over and turned down the volume. "Urgh, don't want to hear those bloody wankers cheer for their stupid, idiot, crap team."

Harry laughed and threw a pillow at him.

There was another tiny up noise.

Harry looked at Ron. "Oh come off it, it was just a pillow, I didn't even throw it that hard."

Ron flicked his eyes around the room and raised an eyebrow at Harry. "Er, wasn't me," he said around the mouth of his bottle.

Again, there was a tiny up noise. This time they both heard it, and looked at each other before simultaneously dragging their gazes to the cradle-thing. Teddy gurgled at both of them as if he was happy to be on display, then hiccuped again.

"Oh bugger!" cried Harry, jumping out of his seat.

"What did he do?" Ron said, dropping his bottle to the floor, not even noticing as the Butterbeer gurgled sadly out all over the carpet.

"Hiccuped, I think," Harry said with a note of panic. He lifted Teddy up and tried to examine him. Teddy just made a grab for Harry's glasses.

"What do we do?"

"I have no idea!" Harry took several frantic steps in each direction before coming back to where he started. "Quick, Ron. What do we do for hiccups?"

"How the hell should I know, I just asked you!" Ron said, waving his arms wildly. Harry swung Teddy out of the way in the nick of time.

"B-but! You've got loads of brothers and a sister and I just-- Surely your mum must know something for hiccups!"

"I'm sure she does, but it's not like she ever told me!" Ron began to pace back and forth, pulling at his hair again and narrowly avoiding tripping over the Butterbeer bottle on the floor.

Harry would not hyperventilate, he would not hyperventilate. "But surely you must have seen her at it!"

Ron paused and fixed Harry with a glare. "Harry, in case you haven't noticed, all my brothers are older than me, and when the only sibling younger than me was at the age to get hiccups I was still chewing on blankets and wetting my nappies!"

"Right, right," Harry muttered. He lifted Teddy up to his shoulder and began gently patting him on the back. "Oh crap, oh monkey trumpets."

Ron stopped again. "Monkey trumpets?"

"Shut up. Shit Ron, what are we going to do?"

Ron turned on his heel and headed for the fireplace. "We've got to Floo Mrs. Tonks."

Harry had never moved that fast before, not for the Snitch and not even when fighting for his life. He made it in front of Ron, still lightly bouncing Teddy (who was blowing more spit bubbles) before Ron had made it three steps. "No!"

Ron nearly fell over.

"No, you can't call Andromeda. You can't. If she hears about this she'll never let me alone with Teddy again," Harry said, eyes wide and frantic.

"Er, mate, it's just the hiccups."

"That is not the point," Harry said with a wild shushing gesture. "Ok, maybe it is the point, but you can't Floo her. I've got to prove to her that I can take care of him on my own.

"But obviously you can't, right, so it's okay. She won't hold it against you." Ron said.

Harry pulled back and looked up at him, his expression slightly cracked.

"Since when did you become the sensible one here?"

"Since I started dating Hermione," Ron said without missing a beat.

"Oh."

Teddy hiccuped again, but this time when he did half of the fluff on his head that could only loosely be deemed 'hair' turned from brilliant turquoise to neon pink.

Harry gave a girly little scream and almost dropped him.

"Crap crap crap what are we going to do?" he said, holding Teddy once again at arm's length.

Ron's eyes were just as panicked as Harry met them, and he shook his head.

Harry took a step and then immediately turned around and went for the fireplace. "Wait! That's it! We'll Floo Hermione."

This time Ron was the one moving with heretofore unknown speed to grab Harry's collar and pull him back.

"No. No way. We cannot, repeat, cannot Floo Hermione," he said.

"What, should we call her instead? I've got a phone here somepl--"

Ron gave Harry a shake by his collar (gently, so as not to disturb Teddy any more than necessary). "No, git. We are not contacting Hermione at all."

Harry had no other response to this than to stamp his foot. Teddy gave something that was almost a laugh, hiccuped, and changed the other half of his hair to platinum blond.

Apparently the boy liked bright colors.

"Why the hell not, Ron? She'll know what to do!"

"Of course she will," Ron roared. Ron's face got very, very red, and on Teddy's next hiccup, his hair changed to match.

"And?" Harry demanded.

"And she'll fix him and then come in here and fix us with that look, you know the one, the one that all but screams You two are completely useless, can't even handle a baby by yourselves, where would you be without me pulling your arses from the fire, I mean honestly."

Harry's face shifted away from panicked for the first time since Teddy's hiccups started as he blinked. "You know, your Hermione impression's gotten very good, Ron."

"Ch, it's not hard, you just have to get the proper level of Completely Mental into your voice and the rest is easy." He shook his head. "But look, we cannot, under any circumstances, Floo her. Or call her. Or no!" he paused, seeing Harry edging away, "No owling, either."

"Well fine then!" Teddy hiccuped again. "What do you suggest? We can't Floo Ginny--"

"No no, absolutely right, we cannot Floo Ginny, no."

Harry waited. Teddy hiccuped, sending his hair back to an odd mixture of pink and blond.

"We could Floo your mum?" he suggested.

Ron dropped into an arm chair and covered his face with his hands. "Oh Merlin no, that'd be worse than Ginny and Mrs. Tonks put together."

"Yeah." Harry slumped onto the sofa and tried bouncing Teddy on his knee. It didn't do anything for the hiccups, but Teddy made a little wave that was almost a clap.

"Why can't we think of anything?" he said after a brief pause.

"Because Hermione's right and we really are useless," Ron muttered into his hands.

Teddy's next hiccup shot streaks of purple through his hair. Bright colors, it seemed, had gotten boring.

Ron looked up and stared at Teddy with frightening intensity. "Wait, I've--what if we Flooed Luna?"

Harry's eyes shouldn't have been able to get wider, yet somehow they did. "Luna, we can't Floo Luna, she--wait, why can't we Floo Luna?"

Ron's face started splitting into a grin. "She might just know something..." he said.

Harry grinned back. "Go, quick, I've got him. Go!"

Ron scrambled to the Floo, threw in some powder, shoved his head in, and yelled "LUNA, EMERGENCY" so loud Harry's next door neighbor banged on the wall.

Ron just managed to pull his head out of the fireplace before Luna whooshed in.

"Ronald, Harry, how are you?" she said, calm as ever. She must have been surprised; she was wearing a painter's smock backwards, no trousers, and had a paintbrush jammed in her hair. The paintbrush was still dripping purple paint, and for a moment she shared an uncanny resemblance with little Teddy, until he hiccuped again and his hair shifted back to 'normal' blue.

"Luna, we need your help," Harry said.

They quickly explained the situation, tripping over each other a couple times in their haste, as Luna placidly took the baby from them and rubbed noses with him.

"And yeah, we thought, maybe you could help?" Ron finished weakly.

Luna stroked a long-fingered hand over Teddy's crown. "I think I know just the thing. Or rather, I don't think I know it, I do know it. And Harry, this is a lovely color. Do you dye it?"

Harry blinked once, tried to speak, coughed, and tried again. "Er no, Luna, he's a Metamorphagus."

"Oh, is he really? I used to think it would be fun to be one of those. Then I thought that I was having quite a bit of fun just being me, so I decided to stay as I was."

Ron scratched the back of his neck. "That's-that's nice, Luna. So..."

"Oh, yes, right, the hiccups. Can I borrow a wand? I seem to have left mine behind." Harry wordlessly passed her his wand as she shifted Teddy in her arms. "Now, it's quite simple, really, my father used to do this all the time for me when I was a baby."

She tapped Teddy in the chest with the wand. "Don't worry, it's perfectly safe," she said as she waved the wand and swooped Teddy into the air. Some part of Harry's and Ron's matching gobsmacked expressions must have filtered through, because she looked over at them and grinned. After all, Teddy was upside down at this point.

"Really," she continued. "Completely harmless. And actually, I remember it being rather pleasant." Teddy spun gently in a sudden shower of sparks, but he did not, in fact, seem to be hiccuping any longer. Luna plucked him from the air and handed him to Ron, passing the wand back to Harry.

"See?" she said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Simple."

Ron gaped like a fish and Harry struggled to find words. When he finally regained the power to speak, all that came out was, "L-luna? You remember. Being a baby."

Luna shrugged. "Of course, don't you?"

Now Ron was hiding his mouth with the inside of his wrist and making strange choking noises as he gently placed Teddy back into the cradle-thing. Harry moved over to Luna and grasped her shoulders.

"Luna, I want you to promise me something," he said.

"What is it, Harry?"

"Please. Never. Never change."

Luna smiled her serene Luna-smile. "I'll try, Harry." Harry started to nod, but lost his composure as she continued. "Now, is there anything else you need, or shall I go? Because I left Dean tied to the bed, and I really should get back."

The sound of their laughter carried her pleasantly back through the Floo.

~*~fin~*~

A/N the 2nd: I honestly have no idea how one does cure baby!hiccups. I mean, it's not like you can get them to swallow a spoonful of sugar or anything, right?
And the phrase "Monkey Trumpets" is sadly not mine, it belongs to Futurama, but I do love it so.

Ficlet | Going Out is Overrated

Wed, 11 Feb 2009 19:59:33 GMT

Title: Going Out is Overrated
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing/Characters: Ron Weasley/Draco Malfoy
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 900+
Summary: Draco really resents being dragged along on Ron's errands.
Author's Notes: Spontaneous ficlet for tehgiantsquid, for years of being 129,000% AWESOMETASTIC.

~*~

"I cannot believe you've brought me to the Mu-- your ex-girlfriend's flat," Draco said as Weasley pulled out a ring of keys and fumbled for the right one. The sight of such obviously Muggle keys stretched Draco's sneer even wider, but Ron took no notice. Whether he was either ignoring Draco on purpose or was actually, yes, in fact, just that thick, Draco didn't know, but he was inclined to bet on the latter.

"Since that ex-girlfriend is one of the few people I know who can actually stand you, Malfoy," he was saying as he unlocked the door, "I'd watch what you say about her or her flat, got it?"

Though Ron's tone was casual, his eyes definitely weren't, and Draco decided that maybe the Weasel hadn't been ignoring him as much as Draco had thought, so instead of replying with some no doubt witty and cutting remark (just because he hadn't thought of it yet didn't mean that he wouldn't have. Eventually.) and simply tsked as he followed Ron into the flat.

Weasley immediately headed for the tiny galley kitchen and began rummaging around in the cabinets under the sink. Draco edged into the flat, awkwardly leaning against a doorframe and trying to look as if this wasn't bloody odd. Luckily, he found that if he tilted his head just slightly to the right, he could see Weasley's denim-clad arse sticking in the air, and while it might have been odd for Draco to be admiring that arse, given the particular Weasley it was attached to (even considering things, and those were odd enough as it was), admiring arses in general wasn't out of the norm at all, and it put him back on somewhat more comfortable footing.

Odd that the view was getting a bit hazy though. It wasn't that nice of an arse.

"Oi, Weasley. What exactly have you dragged me here to do, anyway?" he said. Or, at least, tried to. Rather than the carefully drawled words he had meant to say when he opened his mouth, what came out instead was a loud, completely undiginified sneeze. He raised his head and opened his mouth to comment on it, and promptly sneezed again. And again. And then one more time for good measure.

And his vision was definitely hazy now, unless the wood of the floor was some particularly spectacular type he'd never encountered before.

Draco scrubbed at his eyes and pinched his nose to hold back another sneeze and tried again.

"Weasley," he said, cursing his newly stuffy nose for robbing his words of the bite they really needed to have, "is there a cat in this fucking flat?"

Ron tsked with his head still under the sink. "Of course there is, Malfoy. That's what we came here for, remember?" He stood and shuffled out of the kitchen, a tin of cat food and an opener in his hands. "I told you th--"

At the expression on Weasley's face, Draco attempted to snarl What? but only succeeded at sneezing loudly again. Apparently Weasley still got the general impression, though.

"You look--" the insufferable idiot gasped between peals of disgustingly ridiculous laughter, "even more-- like a ferret-- than you usually do."

Draco could only assume that Weasley was referring to his eyes, which were undoubtedly a bright, violent red at this point. When he recovered from his rage-induced sneezing fit, he shouted, "Weasley you utter sod, I AM ALLERGIC TO CATS!"

Ron straightened and scowled. "Well I didn't know that, did I? Maybe if you'd paid attention when I told you--"

Draco cut him off with a shove to the chest. "I didn't ask - sneeze - you to bring - sneeze - me along on your little - sneeze - domestic - sneeze - errands!"

Of course, the Weasel shoved back. Rather hard too, considering Draco was currently suffering, and was thus not at one hundred percent. The idiot should really have had more sense.

"No," he bellowed, "you asked me to take you out somewhere for once, but I'd already promised Hermione I'd feed Crookshanks, and you just couldn't wait for me to come pick you up af--"

Ron's yelling came to a sputtering stop as Draco grabbed him by the hair at the back of his head and kissed him. Draco wrenched his lips away after a moment and smirked at Weasley's expression. He looked even more ridiculous than usual; anger and lust and a hint of confusion was a good look for him.

"Going out is overrated," Draco said, impressed with himself that he refrained from sneezing even once during the entire sentence.

"Yeah," Weasley said, oh-so-intelligently.

"Look," Draco said, trying desperately not to sneeze in Ron's face, as that would likely start another argument and he would really prefer to be in a bedroom when that happened, "feed the blasted animal, then meet me back at mine in five, yeah?"

"Sounds," Ron said, and cleared his throat. "Sounds good."

"Good," Draco pulled away. He managed to get fully clear before sneezing again. "Just. Just make sure you're clear of fur before you Apparate."

"I do know how to use a cleaning spell, you stinking ferret," Weasely said, his face darkening again.

"Prove it." And before he could reply, Draco turned on the spot and Disapparated, figuring five minutes was enough time to get Weasely's anger simmering nicely.

And sure enough, five minutes later on the dot, he was not disappointed.

~*~fin~*~

Ficlet | ONE DAY I WILL WRITE SOMETHING THAT IS NOT RIDDLED WITH STUPID CLICHES I PROMISE

Wed, 11 Feb 2009 02:56:43 GMT

Title: ONE DAY I WILL WRITE SOMETHING THAT IS NOT RIDDLED WITH STUPID CLICHES I PROMISE
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Young Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Billy Kaplan/Teddy Altman
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~800
Contains: towel slippage
Summary: Billy can say without any doubt that this is the first time he's ever been shoved up against a door by someone not intending to beat the shit out of him
Author's Notes: Spontaneous comment!fic for tsaiko

~*~

When Billy opens the door to his bedroom and discovers Teddy lying on his bed, feet on his pillow, idly flipping through a comic book, he's surprised. After all, when he went to go take a shower, he certainly hadn't left a Teddy on his bed.

What he had left, of course, were his jeans and his boxers, crumpled in an untidy heap in the middle of the expanse of floor between the door and the surprise!Teddy on the bed. The towel wrapped around his hips suddenly seems no bigger than a handkerchief, and he clutches the knot convulsively and hopes the coverage is enough before attempting to sneak across the floor to his underpants.

Teddy doesn't glance up from the book as he speaks. "Hey, Bill. Your mom let me in, said I could wait up here for you." He flips the book closed and starts to curl up onto his knees. "Hope you don't mi--nnnghh."

Teddy's words die as he finally looks up at Billy, who has frozen in his path to his boxers. Teddy's eyes go comically wide, narrow just as fast, and then--

This relationship is new, and there have been a lot of firsts (then seconds, sometimes leading to thirds) in it for Billy, for both of them, but Billy can say without any doubt that this is the first time he's ever been shoved up against a door by someone not intending to beat the shit out of him. Teddy's hands are pinning his hips, his lips sliding down Billy's neck, before Billy even has a chance to open his mouth.

So of course, when he finally does, it's to let out a strangled laugh as his hands go to Teddy's hips in turn. "Hello to you too, T," he gasps out. Teddy's tongue seems to be chasing the water dripping out of Billy's hair, and, surprise surprise, it's making it a bit difficult to think.

Teddy breaks away, mumbles "Hello," then dives in for a fast, deep kiss that has Billy immediately scrambling to come up with more scenarios that end with Teddy catching him just coming out of the shower. He slides his hands around and squeezes Teddy's ass. Teddy breaks away again and curses against Billy's lower lip, thumbs kneading Billy's hipbones and causing the towel to droop dangerously.

For all his concern a moment ago, Billy couldn't care less.

"Remind me to thank my mom," he says with a smirk, because the vaguely blitzed look on Teddy's face is just too good.

Teddy shakes his head and laughs, and begins kissing his way along Billy's jaw. "Yeah, that'll be an interesting conversation." His voice jumps two whole levels in sarcasm as he mimics. "Thanks so much, mom, for letting my boyfriend in so he can molest me; she'll love that."

"Are you planning on molesting me?" Billy asks around one of Teddy's earrings.

"Possibly."

Billy laughs and releases Teddy's ass to grab him by the neck and pull him into another kiss. This one's just getting good when the door Billy's leaning against thumps and then thumps again.

"Biiiilly! Mom says it's time to go to dinner. Come on!"

There's another thump as Billy's little brother tries to open the door. Of course, since Billy's still pinned up against it with all the strength of a boy code-named Hulkling, he doesn't have much luck.

Billy's head thunks back against the wood. "Just a minute, Jake," he says, rubbing a hand over his face.

Jake's voice is slightly muffled by the door, but still clear enough to be desperately annoying. "Are you making out in there? You are, aren't you! Oooooooooooo, Mom's gonna be so maaaaaaaad."

Billy shoves Teddy off him and flings open the door in a surprising burst of speed. "You better not say anything, you little--" he starts, but Jake has already taken off down the hallway. Billy moves to take off after him, but Teddy's hand comes down on his shoulder and he stills.

"Uh, Billy? You might want to, um." He gestures at Billy's waist.

Billy glances down and immediately flushes a shade of scarlet he has never reached before, not even the time when he asked his mother where her new baby was coming from and got a three course lecture on the subject, complete with visual aids (he was seven). The towel's coverage, barely adequate before, is now practically non-existent and Billy scampers, literally scampers, back into his room, slamming the door before anyone else can see.

As Teddy collapses into the chair, red-faced and choking on his laughter, Billy grabs his pants off the floor and starts jamming his feet into the legs.

"Right," he mutters, "pants first, murder later."

This just makes Teddy laugh even harder.

~*~fin~*~

Ficlet | Just Another Day

Fri, 06 Feb 2009 15:34:15 GMT

Title: Just Another Day
Author: attilatehbun
Fandom: Young Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Teddy Altman (possibly hinted at Teddy -> Greg)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~750
Summary: everything is so just like every day that it doesn't even occur to him that it's not
Author's Notes: Spontaneous birthday ficlet for tussah

~*~

The morning after breaks as always, mind-numbing in its normalcy. Teddy's mom cracks the door, letting in a stab of light that has Teddy burrowing his head deeper under the pillows and grumbling as she says, "Teddy! Up! School."

Teddy grumbles some more as her head withdraws, rolling out of bed and rubbing one hand over his face to wipe away the sleep. He stumbles to the bathroom, idly scratching himself through his pajama pants, and everything is so- so- so- just like every day that it doesn't even occur to him that it's not. He's halfway through brushing his teeth when it hits him, jaw going slack and dripping a bit of toothpaste froth. What hits him, then, is Greg. Greg, and what Greg said, and what Teddy's done that has probably fucked things up forever.

"Fuck," he curses around the toothbrush, and spits.

These are the only things in his mind as he dresses, Greg and how pissed he must be and whether he's told anyone and if there's anything, anything at all that Teddy might be able to do to fix it. And for the first time, a tiny voice is getting some recognition, one that's saying Maybe you don't want to fix it and Maybe it's better this way.

But Teddy's not sure quite what to make of that voice, or how it fits in with his careful constructions -never mind that those are possibly shattered beyond repair, never mind that now- so he pushes it away. Careful, as always, he slides the scowl off his face and erases the furrow between his eyebrows as he walks into the kitchen.

And he's still careful, measured, face a studied blank, but Mom's Mom-Senses must be extra strong this morning, because she slips him a second bowl of sugary cereal instead of the cornflakes she normally insists on and ruffles his hair as he eats. But she doesn't say anything, and Teddy's glad of that, glad of a mother who understands it's important to stay quiet sometimes. It's this thought that stills his hand in his usual grab-the-satchel-shoot-out-the-door wave and stutters him into the second deviation marking this otherwise normal day. Instead of waving and dashing, he leans in and kisses his mother on the cheek, smiling genuinely for the first time.

"See you tonight, Mom," he says, and she ruffles his hair again, and then he's dashing back out the door like normal.

It's Greg that drags him down again, all the way to school, thoughts of Greg and the mansion and (not) everything else threatening to push his shoulders out of shape with their weight. But he refuses to let it show; he squares his shoulders and smooths his features and will not acknowledge the heat of Greg's glare at the back of his head as he settles into his seat.

He doesn't know what to do except stick with the pretense that this is all just another day, no matter that his interior monologue is currently stuck on fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck and his heart is beating like it might burst. He can still see his hand, scaled and pointy and raised against Greg, can feel the words Mutant Skrull in every flick of Greg's eyes to him. But he's careful and he's measured and he doesn't look over or think about plates or Captain Marvel or Tony Stark or- or--

Oh.

The rest of the events of the evening fill in, washing out everything Greg Norris and school hierarchy in a flash-flood of powers and team and having something to offer. It's like that kid, Iron Lad was his name, hit it all with one of his repulsor rays, and everything that was unimportant burned away. What's left is a loose, bubbly feeling of freedom, something so new and different that it more than anything else marks this as Not Just Another Day.

His second genuine smile of the day forms around his pen as he digs a sheet of scrap paper out of his bag. Screw Greg Norris, and screw the rest of them, he thinks, I have better things to worry about now, like--

And he scribbles on the paper, writing large for importance, and grins wider. He taps the pen against his teeth because it's not just another day, is it? Not now, not with him grinning down at the page, the word seemingly grinning back at him, with all the new, normalcy-shattering things it represents.

He underlines it again, because yeah, it is definitely better.

CODENAMES?

~*~fin~*~

[Icons] Scott Pilgrim, Cole Mohr, Young Avengers, Band of Brothers

Tue, 13 Jan 2009 02:43:58 GMT

[21] Scott Pilgrim
[7] Cole Mohr
[7] Young Avengers
[7] Band of Brothers

Preview:

001	002	003


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013	014	015


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019	020	021


022	023	024


025	026	027


028	029	030


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034	035	036


037	038	039


040	041	042

Created with angelamaria's Icon Table Generator @ Bauble

Comment and credit is ♥
Credit attilatehbun
ICONS, NOT BASES.* Thbbbbpt.

*HOWEVER. Many of these could probably do with some text and my clever center is just not functioning, so any suggestions are more than welcome. :)

Fic | Temperature

Tue, 06 Jan 2009 03:20:24 GMT

Title: Temperature
Author: attilatehbun
Gift for: coffee_n_cocoa
Pairing: Neville/Ginny
Summary: Neville and Ginny explore the advantages and disadvantages of a winter wedding in the snow.
Rating: NC-17
Contains: iceplay, fluff
Word Count: 2000+
Author's notes: I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it, coffee_n_cocoa . I tried to get in several things you listed, though I was a bit loose in my interpretation of ice play (it is very cold where I am, and I think that influenced things somewhat). Much love to my flist.

~*~ Originally posted for smutty_claus ~*~

~*~

Neville cupped the mug in both hands, grateful for the extra bit of warmth. Even with the multitude of warming charms that had been cast over the garden, it was still brisk. Unsurprising, really, given that it was January. Why Hermione and Ron (or more likely, just Hermione) had decided to have their wedding in the middle of winter, outside, was something Neville didn't care to contemplate, but it was still so unbelievably far from the strangest thing he had seen that it barely even registered on his personal weirdness meter. Though he did wish he'd dressed in something warmer. Dress robes were hardly equipped to handle a January snowfall.

Neville shivered and took a sip of his mulled wine, closing his eyes at the refreshing heat. He heard a soft thump next to him and turned to see Harry leaning half over the bar, reaching for the bottle of Firewhisky. Harry slithered back to his feet and poured himself a glass.

"My best mates might be complete nutters, but at least they know how to stock a bar," he said. He tipped the glass towards Neville and grinned. "Cheers."

Neville raised his own drink in return. "Agreed on both counts," he said, taking another sip. "Couldn't you have talked them out of it?"

Harry set his drink down and rubbed his hands together. "Tried and tried again, Nev. But when Hermione gets her mind set on something..."

"Right," Neville said, laughing. "Still, you and Susan had the right idea, midsummer, before it gets too hot."

"Guests not hanging around the bar trying to regulate their temperature with alcohol?" Harry shook his head. "I dunno what they were thinking."

Neville just snorted, taking a long drink of his wine as if to illustrate the point.

"So," said Harry, refilling his glass, "you and Gin, you two been thinking about times at all?"

Neville groaned and looked up at the roof of the tent. "Oh don't even start. I can't even bring it up without Ginny--"

"Oh, I hear my name," Ginny said, appearing out of seemingly nowhere and draping an arm around Neville's shoulders. She leaned in a pressed a kiss to his jaw while snaking an arm down and snatching the mug of wine out of his grasp. "Mmm," she said, taking a sip. "Looks like you two have the right idea, this wine is just what I needed."

"Oi, don't drink it all," Neville said with a grin, but he didn't take the mug back, sliding his own arm around her waist instead. "Did you have a good time dancing?"

"Not really," Ginny said, settling into the warmth of Neville's body with a sigh. "Somewhere along the line all my dear brothers have learned to dance, and I rather miss having my toes stepped on."

Neville flushed slightly and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"On that note," Harry said, "I see Sue across the way looking like she's expecting me to come along and not step on her toes. See you later, yeah?"

"See you, Harry," said Neville as Harry drifted away looking rather more like he was being asked to de-gnome the garden than dance with his wife.

Neville disentangled himself momentarily from Ginny to pour them each a fresh mug of mulled wine.

"We should think about disappearing soon," mumbled Ginny contentedly.

"And why's that then?"

"Mum's on the prowl. Now that her last baby boy's tied the knot--"

"What about Charlie?" asked Neville.

Ginny waved her hands. "Oh, she gave up on Charlie ages ago. Wish she'd give up on me."

Neville merely raised an eyebrow.

"Don't look at me like you don't know what I mean," Ginny started, but grinned against Neville's mouth as he leaned in and kissed her. When he pulled back, she continued. "If and when we get married, I want her having none of it. We'll elope."

"And you know that's fine with me," Neville said. He stepped back slightly and moved to take a drink from his mug, but froze with the wine just barely touching his lips. "Erm, Gin, maybe we should disappear sooner rather than later."

Ginny paused with her own mug halfway to her mouth. "...Why?" Neville made a barely perceptible gesture with his chin and Ginny squeezed her eyes shut. "Mum's behind me?"

"Coming along briskly."

"Bugger. Right, well, act casual and just follow me, alright?" Ginny took Neville's arm and began to lead him out of the tent. "Has she spotted us?" she whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

"Doesn't look like it," Neville replied, stifling a laugh.

"Good." They cut a path through the snow, back around the house towards the broom-shed. It was even colder outside of the confines of the warming charms, but combination of hot mulled wine, the brightness of the stars, and the high spirits that resulted from their narrow escape muted the chill. They both giggled through their shivers as they stumbled through the snow.

When they were far enough from the reception tents, Neville hung back, tugging gently on Ginny's arm. "Any reason we aren't Apparating home?"

Ginny released his hand and wandered a few more steps. "I didn't want to leave," she said, bending down. "I just wanted to get away."

Neville turned towards the shed. "But why back here?" He was just reaching for the shed's padlock when a large snowball collided with the side of his head. He spun around to find Ginny red-cheeked and forming another snowball, eyes sparkling with laughter. "Because," she said.

Neville carefully set down his mug, nestling it into a drift of snow. He didn't scoop up any snow of his own in retaliation, just advanced slowly on Ginny, finally catching her hastily-thrown snowball on his chest as he leapt at her. He tumbled her to the ground, kicking up a huge cloud of snow as they fell. Ginny reached up to muss some more snow through Neville's hair, smirking. "Am I in trouble?" she said.

"We'll see," he said. Ginny slid her legs under his, and Neville suddenly lost all awareness of the cold and the damp. His skin felt hot and tight, and he noticed for the first time the way her hair spilled, shocking red, across the snow.

"I wonder what I can do to get out of trouble," Ginny said, eyes glinting wickedly. "Accio mug!" Neville's mug of wine flew into her hand without spilling a drop and she sniffed at it, sighting heavily. "Nev, you look so cold. Maybe I can warm you up?"

Neville found that he lost the ability to speak as she took a drink from the mug, savoring it, then pressed open-mouthed kisses to his jaw, lips bright hot from the wine. He kissed her, sweeping his tongue into her mouth to chase the heat and she pressed her body up against him. "Is that a good start?" she murmured as he pulled back.

"Very," he said, leaning in to kiss her again. He slid one hand up her thigh, tilting it until he was cradled between her legs. "Hmm, but now you look a little too warm," he said with a smile.

"Do I?" Ginny said. She rolled her hips up and grinned as Neville's eyes fluttered shut.

"Y-yeah," he breathed. "You're flushed, I hope you aren't getting a fever from the cold." His mouth quirked, unable to completely keep up the banter. He kissed her instead and was met with a groan that travelled straight to his cock. Neville didn't quite trust himself not to crack if he removed his lips from Ginny's skin, so he kissed his way down her throat, nipping hard to feel her gasps. He slid his hand into the snow drift as he reared back. "What about this, hmm?"

Neville tugged at the bodice of Ginny's dressrobes, exposing her collarbones and a slight hint of cleavage. He packed the snow one-handed as Ginny propped herself up on her elbows to look down her body at him. She got as far as, "Neville, what--" before he trailed the wet snow across her chest and down into the valley between her breasts.

"Merlin, Nev," she said, arching up into him. Neville tugged the bodice down further to reveal one pink nipple, already taut with equal parts cold and desire. When he circled the lump of snow around and over her nipple, Ginny tossed her head back into the snow, groaning, "Fuck."

"Maybe that's too cold, Gin, what do you think?" he said, rocking his erection against her.

"...No....good," was all she was able to reply.

Still, Neville smirked, plucking the mug of still hot wine out of her hand. He took a sip, then let his lips follow the path of the ice over her collarbones and down. He wrapped his wine-warm mouth around her nipple and sucked hard, tonguing the peak as Ginny writhed in the snow drift. Suddenly, Neville found himself on his back. Ginny had bucked and rolled them both over, and now she reared back and pulled Neville to his feet in one smooth gesture.

"Broom-shed. Now," she said, and without even bothering to rearrange her robes, started pulling him in that direction.

"Merlin, but I love you," Neville said.

Ginny undid the padlock with a quickly muttered spell, more destroying it than unlocking it in her haste. She bodily pulled Neville inside after her, saying "Now, Merlin, now." She kissed him forcefully as she guided them both backwards towards the small table kept in the shed for repairs. Neville worked to undo the zip on his trousers while Ginny turned neatly in the circle of his arms and bent over the table. "Please hurry," she gasped, flipping up the back of her robes.

Neville gave up on the zip and just yanked his trousers down, only managing through sheer luck not to injure himself in an unfortunate way. He bent over Ginny's back, pulling her knickers to the side and sliding his fingers inside her.

Ginny hissed, saying, "Cold."

"Sorry," Neville muttered and moved to withdraw them.

Ginny clenched around his hand and said in a choked-sounding voice, "No, i-it's - fuck - it's so good."

"Oh fuck," Neville said, biting the back of her neck. "Merlin, Ginny, I need--"

"Please, Neville, please. Please."

Neville slid his fingers out, inwardly pleased at Ginny's answering whimper. He took a deep drink of the wine he was still carrying and pressed a burning open kiss to the cold skin of her shoulder as he thrust into her.

"Neville," Ginny sobbed and thrust back against him.

Neville couldn't take it slow. He snapped his hips against hers, hard, feeling her shudder every time they collided. Ginny reached backwards around herself to grip his hips, pulling at him, urging him still harder. The contrast of her tight, wet, heat around his cock and the cold air pricking his skin was exhilarating, and Neville groaned, knowing he wasn't going to last long. He bent over her back, only leaning up to take further sips of mulled wine to renew the sharp heat of his mouth. He licked at her neck, shoulder, ear, anywhere he could reach, and Ginny cried out and cursed with each hot kiss.

When he dipped his cold hand into the bodice of her robes, cupping her breast and rolling her nipple with his thumb, Ginny slammed back against him and let out the breathy moan that Neville recognized as the prelude to her orgasm. A moment later, when Neville pinched her nipple and bit down on the back of her neck, Ginny cried out. She dug her nails painfully into his hip, shuddering and swearing and cursing as she came. Neville thrust once, twice more, but Ginny was still thrusting back against him even as she shuddered, and it was just too much. Neville pulled her hard against him and came, panting into the crook of her neck.

They stayed that way for a moment, getting their breath back. Finally, Neville stood, withdrew, and went about the business of rearranging his clothes. Ginny, her robes smoothed and in order, pressed up against him, standing on tiptoe to kiss him deeply.

"You know," she said, as they left the shed hand in hand. "I think my brother and his lovely new wife are not completely off their rockers."

"Oh no?"

"No, not really. I think I understand the point of a freezing cold winter wedding," she said.

"And what's that," Neville asked, squeezing her hand.

"Well," she said with a smirk, "it is quite a lot of fun to warm up."

~*~fin~*~

Meme // Acting like I know wtf I'm doing.

Sun, 04 Jan 2009 19:44:21 GMT

So here's a longer, more detailed fic meme for '08. So I can put all this stuff to bed, once and for all. Leaving it here, though, where it's marginally relevant. And I'm going with just stuff >1000 words here, guys. See my whacked out stats post for more deeply insane details?

Written in 2008:
January: 2

Five Times Luna Acted Wildly Inappropriate and Dean Loved Her For It (HP, Dean/Luna, NC-17, ~1900 words)
Five Times Fred and George Got Away With It (HP, Fred & George, Lee Jordan, Weasley Family, PG-13, 1000+ words)

March: 3

Soaked (HP, Ron/Hermione, NC-17, 1000+ words)
Closing Time (HP, Luna/Dean/Seamus, NC-17, ~1700 words)
Reconstruction, The Business Of (HP, Neville/Lavender, Seamus/Lavender, NC-17, ~3600 words)

April: 2

Advantages (HP, Ron/Hermione, NC-17, 1000+ words)
Still Life With (HP, Dean/Luna, PG-13, 2000+ words)

July: 1

Regarding Trains (HP, Rose/Scorpius, PG, ~2100 words)

September: 3 (note: 2 written earlier but only revealed in sept.)

Treasures, Treasured (HP, Neville/Luna, NC-17, ~3600 words)
Tension (HP, Hermione/Ginny, NC-17, ~3000 words)
Magic (HP, Dean/Luna, soft R, 1100+ words)

October: 2

We Don't Put Our Hands Over Our Mouths (YA, Billy/Teddy, PG-13, ~3200 words)
Finding The Ground (YA, Billy/Teddy, NC17, ~1800 words)

November: 1 (note: written earlier, revealed in nov)

A Shocking Reveal! (HP, Ron Weasley, G, 2600+ words)

December: 2

whatever's living will yourself become (YA, Billy/Teddy, R/NC-17, 8000+ words)
??? (HP, ???) <--- to be revealed

Total fics: 16
Total words: approx 37,600 (of full fics, that is)

My favorite story:
Going with We Don't Put Our Hands Over Our Mouths I guess. It's kind of a tough pick, but writing the story, being able to write this story made me ridiculously happy. Besides the fact that I just enjoy this story loads, it shocked me how easily it came and went and really helped me to get over some fears. So, yay boys!

My least favorite story:
Pfft. A Shocking Reveal! definitely. No contest. While I like some parts of it a lot, overall I think it just falls on its face. Also? I needed like 15 shots of espresso to actually get it done, and that's kind of ridiculous levels, even for me.

My best story this year:
Shockingly, I've gotta say Regarding Trains. For some reason, shit just came together for this story, in my mind. I actually worked the narrative, in my mind anyway, rather than just playing with it. And I'm still so so pleased with the result. It's funny though, as I still don't even ship it. I guess Mags got to me? :D
Runner up would be Five Times Fred and George Got Away With It for largely the same reasons.

My favorite line:
Off the top of my head? "You are levitating half the crap in my room, and I don't really want to spend the rest of the afternoon dismantling a magically constructed wall composed of my own dirty underpants--" (we don't put our hands over our mouths)
I don't even totally know why, except that it's a bit of humor that I've kind of lost this year? Idk, I could probably pull something I like more if i went back and reread everything, but this is the one that stands out to me, now.

Biggest surprise:
How easy it came, writing Young Avengers fic. The simple fact that all three of those fics exist, and not to mention their reception, took me completely by surprise, but in a very good way.

Most underappreciated:
Um, well, I guess, Reconstruction, The Business Of. I was really pleased with how it turned out, even though it stressed me like crazy. And I suppose the lack of interest was due to the fact that infidelity squicks people, and I totally understand that. Still, I was slightly disappointed, but what can you do? And the end of the day, I'm happy with the fic, and that's really what counts.

Most fun story:
Lol, Five Times Luna wa Wildly Inappropriate and Dean Loved Her For It. For starters, Dean/Luna is always ridiculously fun. Plus, writing Luna being inappropriate? Will never not be awesome. I mean, it's Luna, being hilarious. How could I not have fun writing it?

Sexiest story:
I never think my fics are especially sexy, but um, people seemed to think Closing Time was hot, so, idk? I mean, it is Luna/Dean/Seamus, so it's kinda sexy by default.

Easiest story to write:
Uh, as defined by what criteria? All those comment fics (advantages, closing time, five times fred and george got away with it, five times luna was wildly inappropriate and dean loved her for it, soaked, magic, finding the ground) came easy, as that's sort of the nature of comment!fic. Thing that come naturally in one burst. Beyond that? Fic I wrote for something? Probably Regarding Trains.

Hardest story to write:
whatever's living will yourself become, no fucking contest. Jesus. That fic kicked my ass six ways from Sunday, took me forever to write (for me) and I'm still not as happy with it as I want to be. So many reasons why, insecurity, needing to bounce ideas off people, but not really having that opportunity (which is to no means belittle the help I did get, seriously, you guys who helped were amazing, trying even with not really knowing what the hell was going on, but I shouldn't even been asking you. Thank you so hard, again), and fucking Teddy. Teddy is hard for me, beyond all reason, and he went and had to be all revealing in what was just supposed to be a stupid fluff fic and wouldn't let me alone until I changed direction entirely. Arrrgh. Do not want that stress ever again. I'll say it one more time, for the record, goddammit Teddy. a;sldkjf

Most unintentionally telling story:
Uuuuh. I have no idea. Really. Maybe Reconstruction, The Business Of? No idea why, but I suppose I should say something.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you'd never have predicted last year?
Young Avengers. Ha. Last year? I was significantly against even reading Young Avengers. (Ick Ick super-teen teams, DO NOT WANT). Then I finally broke down, read it, fell in-fucking-love, and went slightly mad writing. But if I'd told myself that last year, I would have laughed myself off the damn internet.

Where do you see your writing going in 2009?
More of the same? I don't really write with aspirations of getting better/being a writer, so I can't imagine much will change. Other than seeing more Young Avengers fic (hopefully a bit of branching out and maybe even some gen), and maybe taking some new confidence to try some other comic!fic, I don't really see myself doing anything different in my actual writing.

I wish I'd had the time or energy to include various ficlets in this, but then it would have been long and ridiculous beyond reason, and a;sldkf;a who even cares about drabbles and the like anyway? :D

Fic | whatever's living will yourself become

Sun, 14 Dec 2008 22:54:20 GMT

Title: whatever's living will yourself become
Author: attilatehbun
Pairing: Billy Kaplan/Teddy Altman
Rating: R/NC-17
Word Count: ~8000
Contains: Language, frottage, underage drinking-age
Summary: The trouble with shape-shifting is that so often the shape seems to shift more than you do. It changes day to day, moment to moment, and every time you shift to fit it you're one step behind.
Author's Notes: I can't even begin to describe the stupid convoluted route this took kicking my ass from what it started as to where it is now, so all I'm going to say is: Goddammit, Teddy. Huge thanks to dytabytes and mrssnape_1414 for helping me limp through the early stages, and to butterfly_kate for pulling me through the rest of the way. <3 to the flist in general, for putting up with my moronic flailing. Mistakes are mine, please point them out, all that jazz.

~*~

He doesn't remember a time when he hasn't been able to see it. Not counting, of course, his life prior to the age of about five, during which his strongest and earliest memory is watching Sesame Street while putting on his socks, and that's not really relevant to the matter at hand. Though, maybe it is, in a small way. His younger self saw his mother changing out of her comfortable house jeans and into something cleaner, prettier, nicer, saw her gathering her purse and dropping her keys inside, and he knew. They were going out. So he put on his socks and shoes without being asked, seeing the shape of the moment and changing himself to be ready, changing himself to fit.

His powers. Getting his powers, discovering his powers. Whatever. It made the physical easier. He wasn't limited anymore to just the small shifts, subtle, the ordinary things that everyone has to do. Yeah, sure, the new opportunities make it more complicated too, because he has so many new ways to adapt. So many new areas he's not sure if he wants to examine. But physical change and response is instinctive, and he can almost tell himself that the surface ease is enough. It's enough.

And Teddy can't deny that it smooths things, and he isn't sure of another way to be. If he even has an alternative. Observation and change is what he is.

~*~

The trouble with shape-shifting is that so often the shape seems to shift more than you do. It changes day to day, moment to moment, and every time you shift to fit it you're one step behind.

Because no matter how sure you are, there's always some doubt, and you can't adapt to fit the shape if you don't know what it is.

~*~

Teddy waits for Billy outside of his school. He had a half-day and is eager to grab Billy and get the weekend started. They have practice later, but Teddy likes finding Billy first, showing up together. Plus, practice is draining, and he wants to get some food in his system that isn't rancid cafeteria slop before running around like a maniac. All the shape-shifting wreaks hell on his metabolism.

The bell rings, and Teddy stands up a little taller, and absolutely does not smooth the wrinkles from his shirt or fluff up his hair a little. Billy isn't among the first students out the door, and when he does come out, Teddy almost misses him. The lightning Teddy is so used to seeing fill Billy, even when it isn't shooting out of his fingertips, is oddly absent. He looks almost smaller, and when he pushes past the other kids already hanging around the steps several of them shoot him nasty looks. Teddy thinks he hears one of them say something that Billy ignores, and he's taken an angry step towards them before he even realizes he's done it. But then Billy spots him and the lightning's back, brightening his eyes and causing his face to split into a grin.

"Teddy!" he says. "What's up? What are you doing here?"

Teddy glares at the assholes on the step over Billy's shoulder before smiling back at Billy. "I got off early today, and I was wondering if you wanted to grab some food before practice?"

Billy sighs with his whole body before starting off down the street. "That sounds great. I skipped lunch. Cafeteria slop is just not appetizing."

Teddy smiles to himself at the choice of words. Billy sees it and says, "What's funny?"

Teddy shakes his head. "No, nothing," he says. Billy stares at him oddly for another minute, but ultimately shrugs it off. Teddy glances back over his shoulder, then looks at Billy, something huge and hot blooming in his chest, spreading outward. Something that makes him want to Hulk-out and step between Billy and the assholes of the world. Something that makes him want to shout and rage and hide his face in his hands. He looks at Billy and starts again. "Hey, Billy? What was that back there?"

"What was what?" says Billy, puzzled.

"That, back there." Teddy gestures with his head in the direction of the school. "Those guys, harassing you?"

Billy readjusts the straps of his backpack and rolls his eyes. "They weren't harassing me. They were just being dicks."

Teddy bumps Billy with his shoulder. "Okay then, 'those guys being dicks,' what was that about?" he says.

Billy flushes almost imperceptibly, but Teddy's kinda paying attention, so he bumps Billy again and says, "Billy?"

"It's nothing," Billy says.

Teddy chews his lip. He doesn't want to-- but it really didn't look like nothing. "It didn't look like nothing."

Billy glances at him sharply and Teddy backtracks. "I'm not pushing," he says quickly.

Billy sighs. "No, it's alright, Teddy," he says. "It's nothing because, well, it's just high school? It's not important, especially not, you know, now." He waves his arm vaguely, summing up in one broad gesture the entirety of the superhero experience, as if it were that simple. "Those guys, they're just stuck in a bad teen movie circa 1980. The whole "nerdy, weird guy versus the jock squad" sub-plot. You must know about that."

"I--" Teddy starts, but can't finish. He thinks about Greg, about the guys Greg hassled, the guys Teddy would have been if he hadn't been lucky enough to be born with powers. The guys Teddy didn't stand up for as often as he should have. He blinks and swallows the rest of his words. He thinks about Billy, if Billy had been at his school, and the huge, hot feeling is back in his chest.

"Teddy. Teddy." Billy waves a hand in front of his face. "Where'd you just go?"

"No, I, uh. It's just. I'm sorry for that," he says.

Billy raises an eyebrow. "Oooookay. But, uh, Teddy? That wasn't you."

Teddy feels the blush rising but can't stop it. "But. It could have been. I-- I used to--"

Billy cuts him off. "You're not like that," he says.

"I nearly was--" Teddy starts.

This time Billy grabs his arm and stops him in his tracks. "But you're not. And you never have been," he says. "Not to me."

"Billy--"

"Teddy."

Teddy mumbles, "I just wish you didn't have to--" he gestures vaguely. "All that."

"I know," Billy says. "And thanks. But you don't-- you know."

Teddy tucks his head back into his shoulders. Billy turns into him, and there's an expression on his face that Teddy has no frame of reference for. He almost thinks there might be something there, below the surface, something he could use, something to turn the shape of this to what he wants. He can slide his hand up Billy's neck, so easily, tangle his fingers in his hair like it was nothing. He could lean and press, let the shape be his tongue in Billy's mouth and Billy's hands, touching him, opening him up.

But if he's wrong. Teddy isn't sure enough of this, the cue isn't strong enough for him to know whether he can be. So he shifts to safety, a joke about how if those assholes keep it up, Billy could just, like, zap them or something. Or turn them into frogs.

Billy laughs and says, "That would be cruel to the frog community at large."

Teddy snorts. "C'mon, man," he says. "Food. I'm dying."

Billy's face goes funny again, there's an odd quirk of his lips, but it's displaced by a wide smirk and a nod. "Agreed," he says.

~*~

Billy wears stupid t-shirts. He wears stupid t-shirts, and he bites his nails, down to the quick, practically bloody, and he runs at the mouth, but he smiles a lot, in an honest way, and when he learns what Teddy's powers are, he looks really thoughtful and says, "That must be, I don't know, tough."

Teddy blinks, and opens his mouth to ask what Billy means, but before he can speak, Iron Lad - or rather, Nathaniel - claps his hands together and says, "So, um, I guess we're all here now," so Teddy shifts back to Team Mode. It's new, different from what he used to think of as Team Mode, but he likes it, so he pays attention and resolves to see if he can't pull Billy aside later to find out what he meant by that.

~*~

The trouble with shape-shifting is that you don't always get the chances you want. You rely on the external to form the internal and the external is uncontrollable.

You are all reaction, but you just can't react to what isn't there.

~*~

They are on a mission. Okay, so it's a low key kind of mission, but a mission nonetheless. Billy has been making noises about marathoning all three Lord of the Rings movies and today Teddy has finally given in. Billy hasn't said whether he wants to watch the extended versions or the originals, but either way they're in for at least nine hours of movies, and they will need snacks. So they're off to a nearby bodega in search of chips, several gallons of soda, maybe a couple of microwave burritos, and even some pizza rolls if they're feeling particularly adventurous.

The day is gorgeous, the sun shining hard and bright and not quite warming the air enough to be unpleasant. It's a rare Saturday that they aren't spending in training with Eli and Nate, and a part of Teddy would really like to spend the day outside, not necessarily even doing anything, just sitting around and soaking up the day. But the far larger part of him wants to spend the day with Billy, and doesn't really care what he does once that little detail has been taken care of.

So Teddy simply slows his steps to drag out the walk and listens to Billy deliver what is nearly a dissertation on the things Peter Jackson did or did not Get Right. Billy likes to talk and Teddy likes to listen, and the words aren't even that important, just that sort of hum Billy gets in his voice when he gets excited. This shape is comfortable and easy, and Teddy doesn't regret forgoing the sun for it, not when he can walk a bit closer to Billy than is probably standard and let their shoulders bump affably. Even better that Billy doesn't flinch away whenever that happens.

At the bodega, they load up on chips and dips, both of them suggesting progressively weirder and weirder combinations in an attempt to gross the other out. In addition to the sodas, they splurge on a slushy drink in a kind of frightening shade of radioactive green to split on the way home. When they're out of the bodega, Teddy leans into Billy and jokes, "Think I should go for that color, or is it too much?"

Billy pops off the lid and pretends to seriously contemplate the question. "Definitely too much, Ted. All wrong for your eyes."

Try as he might, Teddy can't quite keep a straight face, and Billy gives him a playful sock in the shoulder.

They are nearly to Billy's when they pass an alley and hear a choked-off scream. They turn as one; in the alley there's a kid, can't be much older than they are, holding a gun on a tiny - a terrified and tiny - old woman. She's clutching her purse to her chest and the kid does not look happy about it. He's twitching a little bit and gesturing with the gun. Teddy doesn't even look at Billy; he knows he's right there with him.

It's so quick they don't even think to use their powers. Billy rushes in, grabs the old woman and pulls her to safety while Teddy swings his bag of 2-liters at the kid's gun hand and punches him, hard, in the jaw. The would-be mugger drops like a sack of bricks.

The old woman is shaken, but okay, now, with Billy's comforting arm around her shoulders and Teddy blushing and looking at his feet under her praise. They offer to walk her home, or at least wait with her until she's sure she's fine, but she snorts and fusses and insists she's seen far worse in her day. She calls them such nice young men, tells them she doesn't want to mess up their afternoon, and says that all she wants is to go home and call someone named "Vera" and tell her all about the excitement.

Teddy catches Billy's eyes over her head as she rummages in the bottom of her purse and has to swallow the shape of a giggle.

Before she leaves she presses something into each of their hands, ignoring their stammering protests. She says, "Thank you, dears," and totters off out of the alley and back into the sunshine. The "something" turns out to be a wrapped hard candy, ancient, slightly sticky, and partially unwrapped from the movement of her purse. Teddy stares at it for a moment, nonplussed.

Teddy hears a choking sound from Billy's direction and looks up at him. He's bright red and looks like he's having trouble breathing, and Teddy says, "Billy, you didn't actually try to eat the candy, did you?"

But then Billy throws his head back and lets out a ridiculous - and there's no other word for it - guffaw.

"Did you see?" he chokes out. "And we-- I can't believe we just did that, that was excellent!"

The adrenaline hits Teddy in rush. His knees are a little shaky, but he's laughing now too, so he hunches over and sort of leans against the wall to keep from falling. Soon he's wiping tears from his eyes and giving little, hiccup-y breaths, but he feels good, he feels so good, because they did good and yeah, everything turned out alright.

Billy is laughing like a maniac, looking none too steady his own self. He punches the air a bit too vigorously and overbalances. Teddy moves to catch him; his arms go around Billy's waist, easy, natural, as Billy thuds into him, still laughing. Billy's arms wrap around Teddy as if they belong there, for a second they're hugging, then Teddy's laughter dries up and catches in his throat. Billy coughs and straightens up and he's not laughing anymore either.

Billy's fingers clutch reflexively at the back of Teddy's sweatshirt and the hesitation and - is that? oh please, is that hope? - taking shape in his face is like looking in a mirror. Teddy licks his lips, and Billy makes a soft noise, kind of an "Oh" mixed with a groan, in the back of his throat.

Teddy doesn't even need to dip his head; he just leans forward, closes his eyes, and he's kissing Billy and Billy is unbelievably kissing him back. He tightens his arms and leans back against the wall, and when Billy pulls back for breath, rolls his eyes, and says, "Finally," what is Teddy to do but kiss him again?

But it's just a fabrication, a hope for an opportunity to shift. There's no old woman, no unconscious mugger not ten feet to the side of them, and Teddy knows that's good, because why would he wish that on anyone, just to concoct a chance? It would be too-too...convenient, and if there's one thing Teddy's learned it's that life doesn't work that way. He might want, that doesn't mean it will be.

So on that day when Teddy wishes for a chance to shift, nothing happens. Billy slurps up most of the slushy thing and chatters and chatters and chatters, while Teddy walks beside him and doesn't try to change the shape of anything.

~*~

It is really hot. Teddy's mom wouldn't let him leave unless he put on a nice shirt, but he's regretting the long sleeves right now, as it's about a million degrees in the gym. Also, the teachers wouldn't let him bring in his soda, so he had to chug it all outside, in one long swallow, and now he has to pee.

But first, there's a new shape he has to figure out how to be.

Mike is giving him a significant look. Or rather, is giving him several short significant looks, because he keeps looking over at Mary Anne in between. Mike apparently likes Mary Anne, like, likes her likes her, and if the blushing glances she's giving him are any indication, the feeling's mutual. That's easy. There's nothing Teddy needs to do there.

Except that Mary Anne is currently clinging to her friend, who's clinging just as nervously back, and the DJ just put on a really stupid song, and Mike's giving him significant looks. Clearly, Teddy is supposed to ask Mary Anne's friend to dance, so that Mary Anne can dance with Mike without feeling guilty.

Teddy feels outnumbered.

But he can see that Mike really wants this, and Teddy gets the general impression that this is the point of these stupid dances. The shape he's supposed to take is wanting to dance with these girls. Or at the very least, helping out his friends. So Teddy pushes it all back and smiles at Mary Anne's friend. Mike grins and leads Mary Anne onto the dance floor.

The friend looks awkwardly up at Teddy. She's got curly black hair, and tons of freckles all over her face, and braces with blue elastics, and Teddy assumes she's pretty, as far as these things go. She's in his social studies class, and he's grateful at least for that, because it provides him with at least one piece of information about her: Her name is Genny, with a G - not short for Jennifer but for something else, something more unusual - and she likes to outline the countries on her world maps in blue colored pencil.

This does not strike Teddy as anything that might help him here.

He reaches out stiffly and rests his hands on her waist, feather-light. Genny-with-a-G smiles nervously and raises her hands to his shoulders, just as stiffly, and they begin to sway in rough time with the song. Neither of them look at each other; the gym walls and floor are suddenly way more interesting than Teddy has ever noticed before. They only look at each other's faces when their eyes accidentally catch alternating walls to stare at.

Her palms are hot and a little bit sweaty through the material of his shirt.

Teddy really has to pee.

He looks around again and sees Mike and Mary Anne nearby. They're swaying just as awkwardly as Teddy and Genny, but Mike's holding Mary Anne a lot closer, and when he catches Teddy's eye through the cloud of her hair, he flashes Teddy a huge grin and a thumbs up. Teddy tries to grin back.

The urge to pee is getting overwhelming, and the song is apparently the longest song in the universe.

Teddy wonders if he should start a conversation with Genny-with-a-G, but he can't think of anything beyond, "So you really like blue, huh?" Besides, another quick glance around the room shows that not a single one of the other scattered couples is having anything remotely like a conversation. A few of them are making out, grossly, sloppily, and Teddy has absolutely no intention of taking that shape. He looks back at Genny, who quickly drops her eyes to her feet and blushes as red as a tomato, under the freckles.

Teddy looks back to the bleachers, wishing he was still sitting there, and doesn't look around again until the song mercifully ends. Genny drops her arms and flees back to Mary Anne, and they immediately cling to each other and start whispering. Teddy follows a moment later, because Mike is still standing by Mary Anne's side, awkwardly shuffling his feet. When he sees Teddy he grabs him and pulls him aside.

"Thanks, Teddy, really," he says.

Teddy shrugs. "No problem. I guess it went okay, then?" he says.

"Yeah, yeah, it was great," Mike says, looking over at Mary Anne, who blushes and turns back to Genny-with-a-G, giggling. After a moment, Mike remembers that he's having a conversation. "Oh, yeah, uh, how was it for you?"

"It was fine, I guess," Teddy says.

"Cool. Cool. So, um, you'll dance with her again, maybe?" Mike looks at Teddy, nervous but hopeful.

Teddy bites the inside of his cheek. "Yeah, sure, whatever," he says.

"Excellent," Mike says, eyes already drifting back over to Mary Anne.

Teddy takes advantage of the moment to escape, finally, to the bathroom.

~*~

The trouble with shape-shifting is that there's a difference between shifting to fit a shape you see that you need and projecting the shape you want to be. And though sometimes those lines blur, they never blur enough.

Because you always know when what you see is just you.

~*~

Eli insisted, and Nate couldn't come up with a suitable opposition, so they are all now doing patrols. Not regularly, and not always in costume, partially because not all of them even have full costumes yet, but still. Patrols. For real patrols. Which means very late nights and difficult, blurry days. Teddy is appreciative of the practice, glad that they won't be going in against Kang cold if and when he ever shows up, but he really really misses sleep. He knows it comes with the territory, but it is hard, sneaking in at four AM and crashing for a few hours before getting up to face the day. Face school, which seems so irrelevant to his life right now that it's almost as if it's happening off page. He's fallen half-asleep in class a few times already, and it's only the fact that his teachers think he's generally a good boy that they haven't yet written home.

(Or at least, he thinks they haven't. His mom surely would have said something. Maybe he should check?)

He doesn't really care about school, and while it's harder to focus with the team on next to no sleep, he can cope. But there's Billy. Billy has been coming over a lot more, after practice, after school. Teddy is trying very hard not to let that get to him; they're friends and hanging out is something that friends do, so if his heart starts beating a bit faster when Billy shows up at his door, well, it probably means he just drank a little too much coffee trying to stay awake. Yeah.

The problem is, the lack of sleep is starting to get to Billy too. More than once one or both of them have nodded off while hanging out, usually while watching movies or bad television, though there was one time Billy actually fell asleep mid-sentence. Which is precisely the problem, really. Billy falls asleep. Billy falls asleep, sometimes, falls sideways into Teddy, and just naps, lying there, his head on Teddy's shoulder, and it takes every ounce of willpower Teddy possesses not to sling an arm around him and fall asleep too.

Teddy was prepared for hearing Billy's laugh. He was prepared to see Billy's smile, to see him floating on lightning or biting his lip as he concentrates. Teddy could cope with it, to be there for all of these things and never touch him. But he was not prepared for this. He was not prepared to see Billy's slender wrists tucked into his chest or the line of Billy's jaw, relaxed, half-open in sleep. He was not prepared for the soft sounds of his breath.

Teddy has no idea how to cope with Billy being asleep in his bed.

Billy's curled up, half-hugging Teddy's pillow and letting out gentle snores. He rubs his feet together and slides, his shirt pulling up just enough to expose a glimpse of dark hair beneath his belly button, and Teddy has to clench his teeth together, desperately trying to find a way to shift this situation out of fantasy territory and back into the safe-if-uncomfortable ground of two guys trying to watch a movie on a computer screen where there are no shenanigans whatsoever.

But he can't, because Billy shifts again on the sheets, rolling onto his back and mumbling a sleepy "Mmmwzzgoinon?" as his eyes flutter open and Teddy is already on the bed and moving. Billy narrows his eyes and says, "Teddy?" as Teddy leans down.

He touches his lips to Billy's, soft, hesitant, expecting to be hit or shoved off at any moment. But Billy slides under him, opening his mouth and leaning up into the kiss. His hands find Teddy's shoulder blades and press, and the nervous buzzing in the back of Teddy's brain bursts. It's all the encouragement he needs for the shape to become clear and he lets his weight settle against Billy's chest, his mouth opening, his tongue demanding.

Billy doesn't seem to mind. He moves again, sliding one thigh between Teddy's legs and arching up. His hands find their way into Teddy's hair and tug, not enough to pull Teddy off, just enough to feel really fucking good, the pleasure of it singing through Teddy's nerves and going straight to his cock. Teddy's hips roll forward independent of his brain, and before he even has the chance to think that he should pull back or apologize Billy bites down on his lip and rocks his own hips up. Teddy rocks his hips again, on purpose this time, because Billy's reaction was amazing, and when their hips meet he feels Billy's cock, hard and wanting, grinding into his. The feel of it makes something short out in Teddy's brain, and he has to break away from Billy's mouth to gasp into his shoulder.

Billy bites at Teddy's ear and takes advantage of his momentary distraction to roll them both over. He props himself up on his hands and before Teddy can even catch his breath, Billy's mouth has found his and Teddy can't do anything but meet his lips again and again. Their hips grind against each other and Billy rears back, squeezing his eyes shut and hissing. Teddy has to groan, the roughness of his voice surprising even him. He slides his hands to grip Billy's hips, and he rocks up again because, so hot. Billy lets out a low fuuuck and attacks Teddy, thrusting forward needy and immediate, kissing Teddy with almost bruising force. Teddy meets Billy's tongue and slides his hands under his shirt. He splays his fingers across Billy's stomach, feeling the muscles there flex and jump with each thrust of Billy's hips. He can feel the heat and weight of Billy's cock against his, even through both pairs of their jeans, and his skin feels flushed and way, way too small. Groaning into Billy's mouth, Teddy circles his hands around under Billy's shirt, one pressing into his back to keep him close, the other dipping into the back of his jeans and squeezing.

Billy stills and Teddy freezes, because maybe the shape was wrong after all. But Billy licks into Teddy's mouth again and adjusts his legs, moving to straddle Teddy's thighs. He sits back, pulling Teddy up with him, hips renewing their desperate rocking. He kisses Teddy's jaw, biting just a little, and damn if that doesn't make Teddy's cock harder and his hips grind upwards more insistently. Then Billy pulls back, tugging Teddy's shirt over his head. Teddy gets tangled, cursing, his arms too insistent on continuing to hold Billy in his lap, his lips still trying to find Billy's mouth. He struggles and twists as Billy bends down, mouth hot against Teddy's shoulder, collarbone, the plane of his chest, and oh-oh god. Teddy groans as Billy's mouth closes over his nipple, and dammit he still isn't free of his shirt. He's busted through countless shirts when he's Hulked-out, torn them apart like they were nothing, and when he actually wants to do it, he finds himself completely trapped.

Finally he pulls free, the force causing him to thump back hard onto the bed. Billy bites his lip and says, "Oh my god, are you okay?" before shaking his head with a "No, right, duh." He looks like he maybe wants to hit himself in the forehead, so Teddy just laughs and grabs him by the back of the neck to pull him down into another kiss. His hands move to Billy's shirt again, trying to maneuver it off him while still keeping his chest and hips pressed tight where Teddy wants them. Billy sits up once more, laughing and tugging his shirt off with an ease Teddy is really really envious of for about two seconds, but then Billy leans back down and they are skin to skin, Billy's chest sliding along Teddy's with a friction that is just completely beyond Teddy's ability to describe in words.

This time Teddy is the one to shift his legs, angling his knees so that Billy's narrow hips fall easily between them. Billy lets out a muffled curse against Teddy's neck as their hips rocks together, cocks sliding along each other, finally, at the perfect angle. Teddy searches out Billy's mouth again, mind rapidly moving beyond rational thought. Instinct is taking over for him, just the need for morenowfrictionharder. Billy seems to feel the same; his hands grabbing at Teddy almost anywhere he can, hips, shoulders, ribs, the underside of his thighs. Billy's thrusts are getting more irregular, more demanding, and Teddy digs his fingers into Billy's skin and meets him as best he can. He is panting hard, too hard to even kiss Billy properly anymore, so he breaks away and mouths wetly at Billy's neck as he thrusts helplessly up into Billy's hips. He fumbles his hands down the back of Billy's jeans and this time he doesn't even slow down, he thrusts even harder, biting down on Teddy's shoulder.

Billy lets out a sharp cry, choked-sounding and shaky, and his hips jerk against Teddy's and hold. Teddy holds Billy tight, gasping at the feel of Billy shuddering against him. He kisses at Billy's ear, his cheek, trying to find his mouth as he shakes. And then things shift on Teddy again.

One moment, he is in sweet friction and too small skin and needneedneed, and the next his balls are tightening and he is holding Billy hard against him and trying desperately not to whimper as he comes. Billy props himself up on his hands for a moment, his face a mixture of surprise and pleasure, and then his lips find Teddy's in a loose, weary kiss. He touches Teddy's jaw almost reverently when he finally pulls back.

Teddy looks up at Billy, carding his fingers gently through his hair. He can't believe that he just totally came in his pants, and thinks maybe he should be embarrassed about that. But then he looks into Billy's face, flushed and satisfied, and it hits him that Billy just did too, because of him, and wow.

Billy leans his forehead against Teddy's and breathes, "Wow."

"Yeah," says Teddy.

Billy grins lazily. "So," he says, his voice a comfortable tease, "is there something you need to tell me, or?" and Teddy--

--Teddy shifts back to his computer and turns up the sound on the movie. Billy gives out another muffled snore and rolls onto his side, and Teddy does his best to ignore it. It makes it easier to just be.

~*~

The mug is badly chipped, and Teddy's not entirely sure it's as clean as he'd like. He sniffs its contents gingerly and the sharp stink of it has him pulling back with a grimace.

"Man, what the hell is this stuff?" He sniffs it again and tries not to gag.

"Not a fucking clue, dude," Greg says, and clinks the edge of his bottle against the mug. "Drink up." He drops onto the couch opposite Teddy and takes a swallow directly from the bottle.

Teddy throws a nervous glance at the door. "Aren't you worried about your mom, you know, catching us? Finding out yo-we stole her," he sniffs the cup again, "something."

Greg laughs bitterly. "You kidding? She never notices anything, even when she's not passed out. Which she completely is. I'll just add some water to it before she wakes up." He looks at the bottle. "It can only improve the taste."

Teddy raises his eyebrows, still unsure, and Greg's face shuts down. "Don't pussy out on me, Altman."

Teddy knows this is colossally stupid, but he also knows what he has to do, to stay here. And staying is where he wants to be, so. He squeezes his eyes shut and knocks back what's in the mug. He manages not to retch as the, apparently, whiskey burns a hot trail down his throat, but it's a near thing. "That's vile," he finally manages to cough out.

Greg reaches over and claps Teddy on the back. "You'll get used to it."

"God, I hope not," Teddy says, trying to ignore the feel of Greg's hand on his back. He's already poured another shot into Teddy's mug, but Teddy is just not up for that yet. He shifts away, fidgeting with the cup a little, in hopes he won't be asked to keep drinking it soon. The word toxic flickers across his brain.

"So, uh," Teddy says as Greg takes another drink, "what's the plan, then?"

"What, hanging out drinking shitty booze isn't good enough for you?" Greg says, but he's grinning, so Teddy just rolls his eyes. "Nah, we'll go out. Who d'you wanna be tonight?"

Teddy squirms and reflexively takes a sip from his mug before he remembers what's in it. As he chokes, he wonders if he could possibly learn to shift his taste buds away at key moments. But it buys him a little time before he has to reply. "I mean, I'm okay with just staying in. I heard there's supposed to be a good--"

"C'mon man, it's Friday. No, we'll hit up the town," Greg says. "Now, who should you be? Paris, maybe? There's this new club--" He breaks off to duck the cushion Teddy lobs at his head.

"Oh come on," Teddy says.

"All right, all right, fine," says Greg, laughing. "Yeah, you being a hot chick, that would just be awkward."

Teddy laughs self-consciously and takes a sudden and profound interest in the cuffs of his shirt.

"No, I've got it," Greg says and stands. "Johnny Storm! It's perfect, man, every club in the city will be open to us! Lots of flash, it'll be great." He puts the bottle down and pauses. "Hey, you can't light yourself on fire, can you?"

Teddy gets to his feet slowly. He shifts as he speaks. "I don't know," he says. "I've never tried it before."

"Well," Greg says, throwing a casual arm around 'Johnny's' shoulders. "No time like the present, eh?"

~*~

The trouble with shape-shifting is that you get so wrapped up in the shift that sometimes you miss the shape. You push and you struggle and you shift, and you lose sight.

Because you think that the trouble is in getting the shift right - that once you're the correct shape it will be easy.

~*~

Teddy doesn't know how he got here, where he saw what he needed to shift what he needed to get here. But he's here, now, pressing Billy up against a tree and kissing him. His hands are in Billy's hair and Billy's tongue is doing things that are making him dizzy.

He wishes vaguely that he knew what he'd done to make this happen, a dim want for information should it ever be needed, but mostly that's blotted out by the fact that Billy is making these noises, these incredible noises, and is clinging to Teddy as if he might fall over if he let go. And that is so, so, so much more important right now. Teddy angles his head to deepen the kiss even further, and Billy digs his fingers into his waist. This is where he is, now, and really, it is the only thing that matters to Teddy. He really thinks he could stay here kissing Billy until they both died of oxygen deprivation or starvation or stray blow to the head from whoever is the villain of this particular week.

He breaks away to breathe, a little, because if he did actually die then he couldn't keep kissing Billy. But he can't make himself stop, not completely, so instead he licks down Billy's jaw to his ear. He suckles on Billy's earlobe just long enough to note that Billy gasps and curls into him when he does that, then slides his mouth down the cords of Billy's neck to his shoulder. Teddy's eyes are closed and he's facing the wrong way, so he doesn't see.

Billy freezes; the hands that were a moment ago perfectly rubbing and clutching Teddy's back are now tapping him, progressively harder and harder until Teddy pulls his mouth away and looks at him. Billy's eyes are wide, and he kinda squeaks and pokes with his chin at something over Teddy's shoulder.

Teddy turns, then jumps away quickly when he realizes Eli is standing there, looking probably as awkward as he has ever looked in his life. Eli coughs a little, his eyes flick from a spot beyond their heads, to the tree branches, to his fingernails, to his feet. He starts, "I, uh--" He coughs again. "Um."

Eli takes a deep breath and stands a little straighter. He still doesn't look at either of them, but when he speaks his voice basically sounds normal.

"Look, Nate and I were thinking we should practice some group maneuvers, see if we can actually work together and not just at the same time. So you guys should finish-- uh, finish up what you're doing and come meet us over there."

Eli looks up at the sky one more time, acts like he's about to say something else, but then turns on his heel and walks away far too casually for it to be anything but feigned.

Teddy feels laughter bubbling up in his throat, and looks to catch Billy's eye to share it. But Billy isn't looking at him, won't look at him, and Teddy's laughter dies before it can even get started. "Billy?"

Billy scoops up his staff and continues not looking at Teddy. "We, um. We should go."

"Billy, is everything--? I mean, did I--?" Teddy says.

"Don't want them getting impatient waiting for us. You know how they are, they might end up vaporizing each other before we get there," Billy says with a strained laugh.

Teddy tries again but Billy cuts him off before he even gets a whole word out. "Come on, time's wasting," he says. And without even a single backwards glance, Billy takes off in the direction Eli just went.

Teddy chews on his lip. Billy shouldn't have-- Teddy feels like all of his insides have just rearranged themselves, and even though that's something he is capable of, he's pretty sure he didn't actually do it. He scrubs a hand over his face and adjusts his jeans - because even with the interruption and subsequent weird behavior...yeah - and follows after the both of them.

Practice does not go well after that. Teddy gets increasingly more anxious the longer Billy keeps actively not looking at him, and it shows in his performance. After he nearly takes Nate's head off with a wild punch, consensus is reached that it's time to call it quits.

Billy has been getting so much better with his flying since they all started practicing, but it still tends to go to shit when he's stressed out. Apparently he's pretty fucking stressed right now, because he's weaving and unsteady in the air, and when Nate calls practice, Teddy is really glad that Billy actually lands rather than falls. What he is less glad about is the fact that Billy leaves pretty much the second his feet hit the ground. He nods at Eli and Nate, brusque and red-faced, keeps right on not looking at Teddy, and makes for his bike.

Teddy grimaces, and Eli throws him an uncomfortable but approaching sympathetic glance. Nate just looks confused. "I'll just-- Night, guys," Teddy says, and chases after Billy again.

Billy is halfway down the block when Teddy finally catches up to him. Billy doesn't say anything, but he doesn't immediately hop on his bike and cycle away, so Teddy will take what he can get. He falls into step beside him and waits for...something. Usually talking is easy with Billy; Teddy doesn't have to worry about saying the wrong thing or finding his words taking the wrong shape. Something about the two of them together just feels natural to Teddy, and the words, whatever they are, just come.

Of course, it helps that Billy is normally really, um, chatty.

So, to be here with him, feeling this oppressive silence that is probably Teddy's fault, the fault of Teddy having done the wrong thing, of Teddy not being careful enough of the shape of things, it makes Teddy's heart race in a way that all of their training sessions never have. He can't find a thing to say. In the short time they've known each other, that's always been Billy's job, and Teddy just doesn't have the actions to follow it up. They walk a few more blocks, and every echoing step makes the acid in Teddy's stomach do more and more alarming things, until he just can't take it anymore.

"I--" he starts, and apparently the creaking of his voice was all that was needed to break the dam in Billy's.

"I don't know what that was," Billy says, and he sounds, not embarrassed or unsure or scared or any of the things Teddy was expecting, but angry. "I don't know what that was, or what exactly you were trying to do. Or prove. But I don't find it funny."

Teddy suddenly feels like he's trying to walk in shoes that are on backwards. "...Funny?" is all he can manage.

Billy clenches his jaw and stares at the sidewalk melting away beneath his feet. He says, "I didn't think that you were like that," and Teddy has one horrified moment where the world shifts around him and he thinks, How could I have gotten this so completely wrong? before Billy continues.

"I mean, yeah, alright, I'm-- I like guys, but to think that you would do that, make it a joke, that you would set me up in front of Eli of all people, just for a laugh, I really didn't think you were like that. I mean, we talked, I thought you-- But I guess I've been wrong before." Billy kicks a branch out of his path; he still won't look up at Teddy.

And Teddy needs him to look up, needs him to see, so he says, "Billy, what are you--"

Billy makes some kind of snarling noise and ignores him. "I thought we were friends, Teddy, I thought that maybe we could be friends, and I really wanted that."

"I don't want t--"

Billy laughs, high and without humor. "Oh, you don't even want to be friends? Just teammates, just someone to have around when you need a laugh? Oh wow, thanks, Teddy, but I'll pass."

Teddy needs to stop him, and stop him fast. He can practically see the gears turning in Billy's brain, the gears that must have started up the second Teddy pushed him against a tree and kissed him, and only got more furious and smoky the longer they stuttered their way through practice. Billy's mind always moves quick, and mostly that's a good thing, but sometimes it moves so quickly that he's too far down the maybe road to see what's going on now. Teddy knows he won't win this with words, even if Billy would actually let him have any.

"Billy, would you listen to me?"

Billy stops, scoffs, his face tight and shiny and hurt. He says, "What? What could you possibly say, Teddy?"

Teddy can't say anything. There is only one thing he can think to shift this off the path it's heading down, and that is to do. He grabs Billy by the back of the head and kisses him, really really hard. Their teeth click together and Billy sputters for a moment before his hands find Teddy's chest and shove him off.

"What the fuck, Teddy?" he says.

Teddy rolls his eyes and has to restrain himself from grabbing Billy's head again, just to keep him still. "Would you get a grip," he says.

Billy takes a deep breath and visibly settles. Teddy can see the gears starting to slow a bit, and he pushes his luck a little further. "I. Am not. Fucking with you. Look, if you don't-- If you don't feel...about me, okay, that's one thing. But I'm not going to let you think that this is some asshole prank or let you think that I'm not your friend."

"I didn't say that I didn't...I do feel..." Billy trails off, suddenly blushing, and Teddy feels everything awry in his chest tilt back into place. He can't even manage to smile.

"Billy, I like you. I really do," Teddy says. Billy starts to smile, and it's a strange, almost shy smile that Teddy hasn't seen before. It makes him want to burst. "I want--" he tries, but the words are too huge for him, the form isn't right, so he shakes his head and grins. "And I'll be happy to keep on giving you hickeys until you believe me."

Billy's eyes get huge, and his hands fly to his neck. "You gave me a hickey?"

Teddy can't help but laugh at Billy's extreme look of surprise. "Made you look," he says.

He's still laughing as Billy half-heartedly punches him in the chest and says, "Jackass," but he sobers when Billy starts worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. His lips are still slightly swollen from earlier, and Teddy really wants to just kiss him again. He's not sure if he should, but apparently Billy's mind has gotten there first. He grabs Teddy by his ears, and it's rough and kinda painful, but Teddy doesn't care, because Billy is kissing him crazily and changing the shape of things all over again.

Teddy pulls back slowly, can't resist taking another kiss or two with him as he goes, and rests his forehead against Billy's.

"This," he says. "This is what I want."

Billy grins, blindingly, and says, "Yeah."

Teddy can't see this shape, doesn't know where it's going to go or what it's going to be. But he does know that for once, he won't need to shift to fit it.

~*~fin~*~

AN the 2nd: Title comes from you shall above all things be glad and young by ee cummings. La la I am being pretentious I do not caaaaaaaaaaaaare.
Additionally, the sign on Billy's door in YA Presents #Whatever made me laugh way too hard for way too long not to use it some small way.

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