ext_7647 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
daemonluna.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2005-05-30 08:09 pm
daemonluna.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2005-05-30 08:09 pm
Entry tags:
Bricked In by Speranza (NC-17)
Fandom: HARD CORE LOGO
Pairing: Billy/Joe
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cesperanza
Author Website: http://www.trickster.org/speranza/
Why this must be read:
Joe and Billy, backstage before the show, reach a turning spot in their relationship. Some nice back story, a dead-on Joe-voice (no pun intended), and one hell of an ending.
Joe let his head fall forward and squinted through the stinging blue cigarette smoke. Billiam was hunched in a battered metal folding chair, scrawling something in a ragged spiral notebook, working the pen's plastic cap between his lips.
But writing what? Writing was Ox's thing, with his fucking therapy journal. He couldn't see Billy keeping a journal; Billy was the man of no memory, a guy who razed every town that he passed through, the human reset button. Not a guy to leave traces, tracks, or evidence around if he could help it. So what, then? Lyrics?--but that was Joe's area. Billy couldn't be bothered with self-expression, because to put yourself down in words was to commit to something, even if for only the space of three minutes.
Bricked In
Pairing: Billy/Joe
Author on LJ:
cesperanzaAuthor Website: http://www.trickster.org/speranza/
Why this must be read:
Joe and Billy, backstage before the show, reach a turning spot in their relationship. Some nice back story, a dead-on Joe-voice (no pun intended), and one hell of an ending.
Joe let his head fall forward and squinted through the stinging blue cigarette smoke. Billiam was hunched in a battered metal folding chair, scrawling something in a ragged spiral notebook, working the pen's plastic cap between his lips.
But writing what? Writing was Ox's thing, with his fucking therapy journal. He couldn't see Billy keeping a journal; Billy was the man of no memory, a guy who razed every town that he passed through, the human reset button. Not a guy to leave traces, tracks, or evidence around if he could help it. So what, then? Lyrics?--but that was Joe's area. Billy couldn't be bothered with self-expression, because to put yourself down in words was to commit to something, even if for only the space of three minutes.
Bricked In