Fic: TBD: Questions (Tommy/Kevin) (PG)
Mar. 6th, 2007 04:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wook77Title: Questions
Fandom: The Black Donnellys
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wook77
Pairing: Tommy/Kevin
Wordcount: ~750
Rating: PG
Warnings: possible spoilers depending on your definition of spoilers, for Episodes 1 and 2. Incest (see pairing)
Summary: Tommy's tired of the killing already and it's only been a day and a half.
A/N: Thanks toficlette for the beta (all mistakes remaining are my own). Also written for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
slash_friday's Week 1 prompt.
Tommy's tired of the fighting and the killing and it's only been a day and a half. All he really wants to do is go to sleep and wake up to all of this – this mess, this horror, this fucking life – as a nightmare. He wants to go back to art school and draw pictures of Jenny at the grill while old men flirt with her.
He wants to go back to before he knew that Jimmy was using.
He also wants to know when is it enough? When has he been good enough, straight enough, and clean enough to make up for fucking up Jimmy's life? It's not that he begrudges Jimmy his pain, Christ knows that Jimmy's had a shit life and that's been Tommy's fault from the moment he got it in his head to lift that car. He just wants to know where his fault stops and Jimmy's starts.
It sounds selfish when he writes it down so he crumples up the paper and throws it towards the trashcan. There are far more important things to be thinking about anyway. Things like what the fuck he's thinking and how the fuck he's going to get them all out of this mess alive.
The Italians aren't going to take much more time to mourn their dead. They might be Catholic to the core – just like the Irish – but mourning only went so far considering that their organization was headless and the man that had beat Sean and his girl was just waiting to assume the mantle.
Tommy's not happy about his own mantle but he'll bear the burden because to do otherwise would mean leaving his family open to being murdered. Now's not the time for what-ifs or maybes. Now's the time to get his shit together and, more importantly, hold his family together.
They trusted no one but their own, not after they'd been sold up the river.
Kevin walks in as Tommy is drawing a quick sketch of a gravestone. His hand touches Tommy's back, startling him out of his what-ifs and maybes. "Deep thoughts?"
Tommy nods and Kevin sits next to him. They're sitting close, shoulders touching, and Tommy likes it. It's when Kevin slings an arm over his shoulder that Tommy wonders if, perhaps, his heart rate shouldn't be increasing this way. Turning to look at Kevin, he notices that Kevin's face is close, too close for him to be comfortable. He shifts on the stool and then Kevin's hand is on his leg.
They're leaning in and they're too close and the room is too hot. Tommy doesn't know what to think as their lips touch and he's moaning. There's a hand in his hair and he doesn't think about whom it belongs to, can't really, not with the way that it's holding his head as those other lips – dry and slightly chapped – open to have teeth gripping his lower lip, sucking it in and holding it there. He leans back a bit but those teeth don't let go. The slight tug and pinching pain force another moan from him and then it's all hands and teeth and frantic need.
It's come from nowhere, he'd just been sitting there writing random things and sketching his thoughts out. Now he's kissing Kevin and this is Kevin, not some random guy from college or the neighborhood. Hell, he hasn't kissed another guy ever, let alone his brother, and it's this thought that has him ripping his mouth from Kevin's and then getting up and calmly walking out into the night. He wants to run like the devil himself is at his heels – and just maybe he is – but, instead, he walks. Can't be giving anyone currently watching the Donnelly brothers any ideas, after all.
By the time he thinks to look around, old buildings surround him and there are bricks on the street. The area screams tourist and Tommy thinks he's safe for a bit. No one's going to want to hit him here, not surrounded by the swarming innocence of gawking tourists with their cameras slung around their necks.
It's here that he slumps against a wall and pulls his knees to his chest. He can breathe, for just a moment, and he's not Tommy Donnelly, killer. He's not bearing the burdens of the family and the neighborhood.
He's Tommy Donnelly, fucked up in the head brother kissing fool. He thinks he'd prefer to be the former.
As always, I'd love to hear what you think. Concrit welcome.
Fandom: The Black Donnellys
Author:
wook77Pairing: Tommy/Kevin
Wordcount: ~750
Rating: PG
Warnings: possible spoilers depending on your definition of spoilers, for Episodes 1 and 2. Incest (see pairing)
Summary: Tommy's tired of the killing already and it's only been a day and a half.
A/N: Thanks to
ficlette for the beta (all mistakes remaining are my own). Also written for slash_friday's Week 1 prompt.Tommy's tired of the fighting and the killing and it's only been a day and a half. All he really wants to do is go to sleep and wake up to all of this – this mess, this horror, this fucking life – as a nightmare. He wants to go back to art school and draw pictures of Jenny at the grill while old men flirt with her.
He wants to go back to before he knew that Jimmy was using.
He also wants to know when is it enough? When has he been good enough, straight enough, and clean enough to make up for fucking up Jimmy's life? It's not that he begrudges Jimmy his pain, Christ knows that Jimmy's had a shit life and that's been Tommy's fault from the moment he got it in his head to lift that car. He just wants to know where his fault stops and Jimmy's starts.
It sounds selfish when he writes it down so he crumples up the paper and throws it towards the trashcan. There are far more important things to be thinking about anyway. Things like what the fuck he's thinking and how the fuck he's going to get them all out of this mess alive.
The Italians aren't going to take much more time to mourn their dead. They might be Catholic to the core – just like the Irish – but mourning only went so far considering that their organization was headless and the man that had beat Sean and his girl was just waiting to assume the mantle.
Tommy's not happy about his own mantle but he'll bear the burden because to do otherwise would mean leaving his family open to being murdered. Now's not the time for what-ifs or maybes. Now's the time to get his shit together and, more importantly, hold his family together.
They trusted no one but their own, not after they'd been sold up the river.
Kevin walks in as Tommy is drawing a quick sketch of a gravestone. His hand touches Tommy's back, startling him out of his what-ifs and maybes. "Deep thoughts?"
Tommy nods and Kevin sits next to him. They're sitting close, shoulders touching, and Tommy likes it. It's when Kevin slings an arm over his shoulder that Tommy wonders if, perhaps, his heart rate shouldn't be increasing this way. Turning to look at Kevin, he notices that Kevin's face is close, too close for him to be comfortable. He shifts on the stool and then Kevin's hand is on his leg.
They're leaning in and they're too close and the room is too hot. Tommy doesn't know what to think as their lips touch and he's moaning. There's a hand in his hair and he doesn't think about whom it belongs to, can't really, not with the way that it's holding his head as those other lips – dry and slightly chapped – open to have teeth gripping his lower lip, sucking it in and holding it there. He leans back a bit but those teeth don't let go. The slight tug and pinching pain force another moan from him and then it's all hands and teeth and frantic need.
It's come from nowhere, he'd just been sitting there writing random things and sketching his thoughts out. Now he's kissing Kevin and this is Kevin, not some random guy from college or the neighborhood. Hell, he hasn't kissed another guy ever, let alone his brother, and it's this thought that has him ripping his mouth from Kevin's and then getting up and calmly walking out into the night. He wants to run like the devil himself is at his heels – and just maybe he is – but, instead, he walks. Can't be giving anyone currently watching the Donnelly brothers any ideas, after all.
By the time he thinks to look around, old buildings surround him and there are bricks on the street. The area screams tourist and Tommy thinks he's safe for a bit. No one's going to want to hit him here, not surrounded by the swarming innocence of gawking tourists with their cameras slung around their necks.
It's here that he slumps against a wall and pulls his knees to his chest. He can breathe, for just a moment, and he's not Tommy Donnelly, killer. He's not bearing the burdens of the family and the neighborhood.
He's Tommy Donnelly, fucked up in the head brother kissing fool. He thinks he'd prefer to be the former.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-03-08 04:10 am (UTC)hahaha! it would be weird for me as well, i think. i've traind myself to be on the lookout for any potential americanisms so to be using them on purpose would seem weird.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-09 08:35 pm (UTC)