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denyce.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2005-12-27 11:46 am
denyce.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2005-12-27 11:46 am
Entry tags:
The Only way Out is Through by Shaenie (NC-17)
Fandom: LOTRIPS
Pairing: Elijah/Billy
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shaenie
Author Website:Mindless Entertainment with Absolutely No Redeeming Features
Why this must be read:First Shaenie wrote this, and I as much as I love all her work this stands out as a true gem, and one of my absolute favorites. This is angst at its very best. The push and pull of the characters, their inner voice and conflict, it’s painful, but absolutely beautiful to read. Shaenie captures the depth, and messy emotional human complexity of Elijah and Billy’s friendship turning into something more. A definite must read.
"Billy... I just want to talk to you."
"I don't want to talk to you," Billy says, and his eyes flicker up to Elijah's face (finally, fuck!), snapping with fury, his brows drawn into a frown that looks both pained and... perplexed? "I don't want to fucking talk to you, 'Lijah, get it?" He glares, eyes narrowed into slits. "Just bugger off. Go fuck around with Dominic or Orlando, go fuck around with anyone you bloody like, but stop fucking around with me!"
"I never fucked around with you, dammit," Elijah snaps, and he can hear plastic crumpling as his hands roll into fists. He ignores it in favor of growling at Billy, spitting out the confusion and frustration of the last several days without thought, in a way that he knows from experience he will regret later, but dammit, he can't help it. "I didn't fucking do anything! You fucking jumped me, Billy, and now you won't even fucking look at me, like I've fucking ceased to fucking exist. I didn't do anything wrong!"
Billy falls back slightly, and Elijah takes advantage of it to angle further forward, to slip further inside the apartment, but Billy doesn't let go of the door. "You fuck with everyone," Billy snarls, face twisted into the same furious lines that Elijah can remember from the other night ("shut up shut up shut up shut up," Billy had snarled, voice catching and breaking right in the middle of it), and in spite of Billy's obvious fury, Elijah can't help that thinking of it makes him burn a little, and the flex and twist of Billy's chest and the beads of sweat he can still see on Billy's lip have the same effect. "You fuck with everyone, and then you fuck everyone," Billy adds, and he does slam the door this time, hard, and it hits Elijah in the shoulder solidly enough to send him staggering backward, out into the hall and down onto his ass.
He takes it silently, so shocked that his head feels swimmy and his face -- which had been hot and flushed just a second ago -- feels weirdly cold. He can't stop his left hand from grasping at his right shoulder, at the deep ache of it, but he hardly notices that, really. The real ache, the real fucking sting, blossoms in his head and in his chest, and Billy's voice is echoing harshly in his ears (and it's only worse that the words are bent and twisted around by Billy's accent, because that makes them undeniably, incontrovertibly Billy's, and Billy never never says things like that, Billy is never deliberately cruel, so Billy must mean it), echoing on low reverb, the kind that is so deep you can feel the vibration in your back teeth. He struggles to his feet without the benefit of his hands -- he can't feel his right hand, it's gone totally numb -- and takes a step back. He can see the knife in Billy's hand, still -- it's one of those long, slender ones, ornate and glittering, he notices for the first time -- but he can't bring himself to look any higher than that.
He's frankly surprised that Billy is still standing there, now that the doorway is no longer blocked.
Fuck you, he thinks of saying, but his head is pounding so hard he feels a little sick, and he's afraid his voice will reveal it, so he doesn't.
"Elijah," Billy says thickly, and his voice twists inside Elijah's belly, twists his guts into an aching, excruciating knot, and whatever it is, he doesn't want to fucking hear it.
Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, he thinks loudly, as loudly as he can manage, louder than the pounding in his head, and he turns away without looking at Billy, and he doesn't hear Billy say his name again, no, and he doesn't hear anything except his own mental chant, like a fucking mantra, the Fuck You Billy mantra, until he's out of the building and down the block and fucking away.
He's nearly home, the ache in his shoulder just a low, pulsing throb, when he realizes he doesn't have the bag with the CD in it, that it must still be laying in the hallway in front of Billy's apartment door. He stops and just stands there for a few seconds, furious and shaking, but finally decides to just fucking leave it.
Fuck it. Just fuck it.
The Only way Out is Through
Pairing: Elijah/Billy
Author on LJ:
shaenieAuthor Website:Mindless Entertainment with Absolutely No Redeeming Features
Why this must be read:First Shaenie wrote this, and I as much as I love all her work this stands out as a true gem, and one of my absolute favorites. This is angst at its very best. The push and pull of the characters, their inner voice and conflict, it’s painful, but absolutely beautiful to read. Shaenie captures the depth, and messy emotional human complexity of Elijah and Billy’s friendship turning into something more. A definite must read.
"Billy... I just want to talk to you."
"I don't want to talk to you," Billy says, and his eyes flicker up to Elijah's face (finally, fuck!), snapping with fury, his brows drawn into a frown that looks both pained and... perplexed? "I don't want to fucking talk to you, 'Lijah, get it?" He glares, eyes narrowed into slits. "Just bugger off. Go fuck around with Dominic or Orlando, go fuck around with anyone you bloody like, but stop fucking around with me!"
"I never fucked around with you, dammit," Elijah snaps, and he can hear plastic crumpling as his hands roll into fists. He ignores it in favor of growling at Billy, spitting out the confusion and frustration of the last several days without thought, in a way that he knows from experience he will regret later, but dammit, he can't help it. "I didn't fucking do anything! You fucking jumped me, Billy, and now you won't even fucking look at me, like I've fucking ceased to fucking exist. I didn't do anything wrong!"
Billy falls back slightly, and Elijah takes advantage of it to angle further forward, to slip further inside the apartment, but Billy doesn't let go of the door. "You fuck with everyone," Billy snarls, face twisted into the same furious lines that Elijah can remember from the other night ("shut up shut up shut up shut up," Billy had snarled, voice catching and breaking right in the middle of it), and in spite of Billy's obvious fury, Elijah can't help that thinking of it makes him burn a little, and the flex and twist of Billy's chest and the beads of sweat he can still see on Billy's lip have the same effect. "You fuck with everyone, and then you fuck everyone," Billy adds, and he does slam the door this time, hard, and it hits Elijah in the shoulder solidly enough to send him staggering backward, out into the hall and down onto his ass.
He takes it silently, so shocked that his head feels swimmy and his face -- which had been hot and flushed just a second ago -- feels weirdly cold. He can't stop his left hand from grasping at his right shoulder, at the deep ache of it, but he hardly notices that, really. The real ache, the real fucking sting, blossoms in his head and in his chest, and Billy's voice is echoing harshly in his ears (and it's only worse that the words are bent and twisted around by Billy's accent, because that makes them undeniably, incontrovertibly Billy's, and Billy never never says things like that, Billy is never deliberately cruel, so Billy must mean it), echoing on low reverb, the kind that is so deep you can feel the vibration in your back teeth. He struggles to his feet without the benefit of his hands -- he can't feel his right hand, it's gone totally numb -- and takes a step back. He can see the knife in Billy's hand, still -- it's one of those long, slender ones, ornate and glittering, he notices for the first time -- but he can't bring himself to look any higher than that.
He's frankly surprised that Billy is still standing there, now that the doorway is no longer blocked.
Fuck you, he thinks of saying, but his head is pounding so hard he feels a little sick, and he's afraid his voice will reveal it, so he doesn't.
"Elijah," Billy says thickly, and his voice twists inside Elijah's belly, twists his guts into an aching, excruciating knot, and whatever it is, he doesn't want to fucking hear it.
Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, he thinks loudly, as loudly as he can manage, louder than the pounding in his head, and he turns away without looking at Billy, and he doesn't hear Billy say his name again, no, and he doesn't hear anything except his own mental chant, like a fucking mantra, the Fuck You Billy mantra, until he's out of the building and down the block and fucking away.
He's nearly home, the ache in his shoulder just a low, pulsing throb, when he realizes he doesn't have the bag with the CD in it, that it must still be laying in the hallway in front of Billy's apartment door. He stops and just stands there for a few seconds, furious and shaking, but finally decides to just fucking leave it.
Fuck it. Just fuck it.
The Only way Out is Through