Brandon Sharpe (snapcrackleboom) wrote in tomorrowtoday, @ 2013-08-04 02:28:00 |
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Current mood: | anxious |
Entry tags: | striker, wiccan |
Log: Overdue
Characters: Brandon & Billy
NPCs: n/a
Location: Billy & Remy's room, Stark's Campus
Timeline: 3rd August 2013 [Backdated]
Description: Brandon finally goes to see Billy
Rating: PG
Ever since Billy had suddenly appeared in his room, bloody, bruised and near unconscious, Brandon Sharpe hadn't seen the other teenager whilst he had his eyes open. It wasn't that he didn't care more that he'd carried him to the infirmary and had spent hours in the shower, trying to scrub himself raw as the blood had been everywhere.
But Petra was right, seeing Billy awake and conscious would hopefully go a long way to reassuring him that Billy was okay. Teddy had taken care of the dirty work that Brandon couldn't due to a promise and the threat of a SHIELD promise. Selene could make light of it all she wanted, but ultimately it was his life. It wouldn't be her in a cell.
Of course just because he'd made the decision to see Billy didn't mean that he'd gotten anwyhere close to knocking on the door or letting himself in. He’d walked away, come back around only to walk away again. So far by his count? He’d done the dance at least five times by now.
"For fuck's sake," Brandon grumbled before he finally reached for the handle and let himself in.
Billy had a laptop on his knee, propped up nicely by some extra pillows that one of the nurses had bought for him. He and Amadeus had finished their Lord of the Rings marathon and now he was catching up on Teen Wolf whilst resisting the gummy candies that were taunting him.
He'd already had two of his four check ins for the day. So when the door opened he looked at the time in confusion; Dominik wasn't due to visit, neither was Amadeus... But when his eyes fell on Brandon, his whole face lit up.
He closed the laptop and sat up a little straighter like that would make a difference, he looked shit. His hair was all over the damn place, but at least his head bandage was clean.
"Hey," he greeted softly, a slight flush on his cheeks as he was hit with a weird wave of guilt.
Brandon paused mid step when his eyes came to rest on Billy who was definitely conscious, but he’d looked better. Granted he’d also looked worse, a lot worse, but Brandon tended to fixate.
He hovered by the door and then stepped to one side, fingers skirting over the nearby desk before he finally leaned against it, arms folding across his chest.
“Hey,” he said with a nod of his head.
"I was starting to forget what you looked like," Billy teased gently, testing the waters. But it was good to see Brandon. Really good.
He shifted a fraction on the bed and wet his lower lip past the pain that accompanied the action. "You can sit down you know... I don't bite. Not right now anyway."
His fingers flexed in the sheets and he pressed his palm against his side to counter-irritate the pain he was feeling. "I know, I look awful. Better than I did, though, right?"
Brandon’s hands flexed where they had come to rest and his throat worked in a slow manner as he flashed back to how Billy had looked when he’d first shown up in his room, beaten to within an inch of his life. And anger coiled in the pit of his stomach because even though he knew Teddy had done something about what happened it still didn’t feel like enough.
“Yeah,” he managed. “You look better.”
Anything was better than how he’d looked in the first place. Truth be told Brandon Sharpe didn’t really have the best idea of what was the right appropriate response to emotional situations, but then he’d never really been give any sort of proper guidance and all his reactions were misprogrammed, aimed in wrong directions and when he should cling he withdrew.
He was nothing short of a rollercoaster.
Billy watched him for a moment before he shifted the laptop off his knee. He bit his lower lip again and drew in a slow breath. "I'm okay, Brandon," he offered, confused as to why Brandon was so far away from him. "won't break if you come over here."
He still felt guilty, didn't know why. Didn't understand why, if they hadn't fallen out and hadn't screwed up. What had he done?
"Are you okay?"
Was he okay? Dumb question, Billy Kaplan. Wasn’t it obvious? Brandon was not okay. How could he be?
Billy had popped into his room beaten and struggling to stay conscious and it stirred up thoughts and emotions Brandon didn’t feel much like confronting, especially as he was still getting to grips with his sexuality. Action was and would always be easy, but everything else was murky water.
Tension was obvious in his jaw as those high cheekbones seemed more pronounced than they were normally, blue eyes tracking over Billy’s injuries as he tried to reconcile the image of how he had been that day and how he was now.
Billy frowned, squirming a little under the scrutiny and he lifted his fingers to scratch his temple, touch finding the edge of a cut and picking at it absently. It was itching, he figured it couldn’t do much harm now, and he really hoped that it wasn’t going to scar. The stitches were dissolvable, but he didn’t- he knew he’d have scars from this, he just wasn’t like Brandon in that he’d be able to hide them with makeup or carry them off if they do scar his face. “I’m gonna take your silence as a resounding ‘no’.”
He wet his lower lip. “C’mere,” he muttered, holding out the cast-clad arm first before catching himself and reaching out with the other one instead. “I’m alright, I promise.”
Brandon’s eyes narrowed as Billy seemed to pick at a cut and it was on the edge of his tongue to tell him to stop, but by that time it was too late and Billy had stopped.
He eyed the hand that Billy was holding out and didn’t move for a moment as he just sort of stared, a momentary flash to when he’d been bleeding all over his carpet. Brandon reached out to rub at the bridge of his nose, trying to push the image to one side and focus on the fact Billy was like he said alright.
“Yeah, now you are,” Brandon muttered. “Weren’t when you popped into my room all beaten and bloody.” And really he’d said too much, more than he intended and Brandon shifted. “I should go.”
“When I what?” Billy asked suddenly, a panic catching on the edge of his expression when Brandon looked set to run away out of the room. “What- Brandon- please don’t-” He panicked and kicked back the covers, getting to his feet - somewhat unwisely because his legs threatened to give out on him and the world spun and he felt dangerously close to blacking out as the edges of his vision dimmed.
He caught himself on the table, good arm supporting him as he breathed in deeply, past the spinning and the nausea, past the strange panic that had gripped his chest when Brandon looked to be leaving and just- He offered a lopsided smile.
“Can’t you at least stay for a bit?” he asked, a little breathless as the movement had caught on his ribs as well as everything else and now it hurt to breathe.
Well, shit. Now he felt guilty.
Brandon frowned and felt an irrational surge of anger at Billy, for having struggled out of bed like that and probably set his healing back a couple weeks. “You’re a fucking idiot,” Brandon grumbled as he finally uncoiled and moved to help Billy back to bed. The last time he’d touched him he had come away covered in blood and it was a memory that still haunted him. “Seriously, man. Just sit the fuck down already.”
And when he was sure Billy was settled again Brandon withdrew his touch, a cursory glance at his hands just to make sure that this time there was no blood.
Billy just grinned as Brandon came rushing over and gently manhandled him back into bed. Whilst that hadn’t been the intention, it was definitely a side effect that he wasn’t going to complain about. He looked at Brandon glancing down at his hands, watched the play of emotions across the guy’s face and whilst the memory didn’t come slamming back like he expected - more slotted in like it had always belonged there - he found himself remembering being cradled against someone’s chest, feeling and hearing the panicked hammering of a heartbeat against his ear, sped up for reasons of fear, nothing else.
“Oh-” he said after a moment, because he’d ended up in Brandon’s room, Brandon said, and if he thought about it really hard, he remembered feeling Brandon scoop him up. “I-” he reached out without thinking, fingers curling around one of Brandon’s hands. “I’m sorry- Brandon- I-”
A muscle in Brandon’s jaw twitched when Billy’s fingers closed around his hand and he tried to remember everything he’d ever been taught about hiding his emotions and putting on a smile through pretty much everything. His mother had drummed the lesson in pretty well and he’d perfected it or at least he thought he had, the recent days had proven that he clearly needed to be educated again.
“Would’ve been easier if you hadn’t turned up forcefield on,” Brandon admitted quietly.
Billy frowned a little, it was on the tip of his tongue to reply that if he hadn’t had the forcefield up he probably would have died, but then he figured that wasn’t going to help the situation any and he just nodded his head, “I- yeah- I guess so-” he mumbled, wetting his lower lip again and squeezing Brandon’s fingers. He didn’t hold so tight that Brandon couldn’t escape if he really wanted to. Billy just hoped he didn’t.
“But you got me to the infirmary, right? So in effect, you saved my life.”
Brandon swallowed hard before snorting. “I wouldn’t go that far.” Diminish and ignore that was how Brandon Sharpe worked. “But I wasn’t going to just leave you there bleeding and shit.” He shrugged, reached up with his free hand and rubbed at the side of his neck.
He still wanted to turn tail and run, especially as they were touching on the reason he’d been so distant as of late.
Billy hesitated, replacing the fingers that were holding Brandon’s with the ones cut off by a cast, the other hand hesitantly reaching up to touch Brandon’s chin. “What woulda happened if you’d just left me there?” he asked, seriously.
“I dunno,” Brandon said with a shrug before he came around to sit on the bed beside Billy so he didn’t have to strain too much. “But like I was going to do that.” He worried at his lower lip then stole a look at Billy, frowning as he could see all the cuts and bruises.
He soon pulled his gaze away and fidgeted, hating how utterly useless and powerless he felt. Literally all he could do was carry Billy down there and let somebody else put him back together again.
That thought in itself scared the living daylights out of Brandon, it really did.
Billy frowned as Brandon frowned at him, mirroring the other’s expression. The cut to his lip had finally healed, the skin a little pink but that was really it. The colourful bruise that was now yellowing over his cheekbone and around his eye, up under the bandage along with the edges of abrasions on his face were the only indicators that there was something amiss with the slightly younger teen.
“Well, I guess that’s why I popped into your room,” he mumbled, ducking his own gaze before he played absently with Brandon’s fingers, running his own over the tips. “‘Cause I knew you’d look after me.”
Brandon stilled as Billy began to play with his fingers and he swallowed hard. “You do realise you’re never stepping foot outside of this school without some sort of escort, right?” He wet his lower lip and then reached up, curling his hand around the back of Billy’s neck before he leaned in and kissed him. It was slow and gentle as if hyper aware of how injured the other teen was.
He’d scared Brandon, he really had.
Billy was about to retort, but the words were muffled against the lips that pressed against his own. Even though the kiss was slow, it sent a ripple of excitement through Billy- would that ever stop?- and he found that it was sort of... perfect that Brandon was taking account of his injuries. He kissed back, uninjured hand lifting to curl around Brandon’s wrist, letting his hand move up until it was mimicking Brandon’s, curled lightly around the back of Brandon’s neck. His touch, however, could do something that Brandon’s couldn’t, and his fingers slipped up into Brandon’s hair, playing with the shorter strands.
He broke the kiss after what felt like forever but yet somehow still not long enough before he breathed, “I’m sorry for scaring you,” against Brandon’s lips, not looking up to make eye contact because he sort of felt that if that happened right now, Brandon would bolt. He pressed another kiss to Brandon’s mouth.
Billy was right, Brandon probably would have bolted.
He heard Billy’s words, resisted the urge to say something, but as it was he didn’t have much of a chance because then Billy was kissing him. And this time Brandon let the desperation of the past week or so bleed through in the press of his mouth, the restless movement of his fingers and Billy would feel rather than hear just how fucking scared Brandon had been.
He’d grown attached to Billy, more so than he had anybody else in his whole entire life and he’d almost lost him. And with the recent events the sudden realisation had been startling at best causing Brandon to go into full flight or fight mode before he’d succumbed to panic.
Billy kissed back as he was kissed, letting Brandon vent his fears through the kiss, breaking it only to draw Brandon closer, not quite a hug, he couldn’t do that yet, but he dropped his own head forward to rest it against Brandon’s shoulder, face in the curve of his neck, allowing the other teen to do the same - if he wanted to.
The warmth of Brandon’s hand against the back of his neck was reassuring and comforting and Billy felt that guilt easing a fraction, not a lot, but a little. Enough. “I’m right here, B,” he murmured reassuringly, at least, he hoped it was. He didn’t want to think about how much this meant to him, how much he liked the fact that Brandon was there, how much comfort that bought him and how it settled Billy’s -admittedly unnecessary- paranoia. He pushed his fingers through Brandon’s hair. “‘m not going anywhere.”
Brandon swallowed hard when the kiss broke and Billy dropped his head forward, resting his forehead against his shoulder. Unconsciously without thinking the tips of his fingers began to move in small circles, restlessly touching and seeking warm skin as when Billy had turned up in his room on that day he’d been cold to the touch.
“Good,” he managed gruffly. “Or I might have to kick your ass myself.”
He pushed out a breath then turned his head, pressing a kiss to Billy’s temple.
“Can you at least wait ‘till I’m a bit better?” Billy asked with a weak laugh, touch dropping to circle Brandon’s waist, rest at his hip, fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt. “Before, you know, you kick my ass.” He pressed a kiss to the curve where Brandon’s shoulder met his neck and just breathed out softly there. “Feel better?”
“Ask me again in a day’s time,” Brandon mumbled. He blew out a further breath and then cleared his throat. “Anyways you should be resting as in lying down and not sitting up.”
“I’m alright,” Billy protested, “Seriously. I can sit and stuff. It’s not- y’know, it’s not that bad.” Well, that was a total lie, it hurt like- well, it hurt. But Billy was ignoring that. He could down some painkillers after Brandon had left or something. “I’m just glad to see you. I missed your face,” he offered with a goofy grin.
“Uh huh,” Brandon muttered as he shifted, fully intending to lie the other teen back because yeah he needed to rest especially if he wanted to heal. “Should’ve known you were only into me because you think I’m pretty.”
Billy just grinned wider, ignoring the way it made his jaw ache, and he leaned forward stealing another brief kiss. “My memory’s only fuzzy for that one day, Brandon, we’ve had this conversation before and I made an ass outta myself. Not falling into that trap again.” As he felt hands on his shoulders and Brandon was pushing him backwards, Billy felt a rush of affection that took him completely by surprise.
Brandon rolled his eyes at Billy then when he finally had him laid back that he did what he could remember seeing in films, fussed with his pillows. “I’m not even saying anything.” He paused for a moment before ducking in to steal a further kiss. “Get some actual rest, Billy. And don’t give me that look ‘cause I totally saw your comic books.”
Billy just grinned, kissing back and settled as Brandon fussed around him. He lifted his shoulders innocently and reclined into the bed as he was told to save arguments and, also, if he were honest, it was quite nice to be fussed over.
“Yeah, I will,” he promised, “Can’t wait for this bed rest stuff be over. It’s beyond boring now.” He reached out and curled his fingers around Brandon’s, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. “Thanks for coming to visit, Brandon.”
Brandon rolled his eyes and lightly pressed a kiss to Billy’s temple. “Yeah, well, it was long overdue.” Really Billy had Petra to thank for Brandon having turned up at all because her words had made a lot of sense. And she was right, it was good to see that Billy was actually okay with his own eyes.
“So, get some rest and I’ll swing back later.”
And with that Brandon rose to his feet.
“I’m looking forward to it already,” Billy said honestly, a small smile on his lips as he pulled the sheets up around himself. “I- uh- see you later.” He could feel the drowsiness pulling at him already, stupid painkillers and healing. He’d pretty much done nothing but sleep for ages now and he was still tired.
He did watch Brandon leave, though, before he settled and let himself fall asleep surrounded by metaphorical warm fuzzies.