first post here

[gilman-street.livejournal.com]

i had this laying around and didnn't know what to do with it. i was pointed in the direction of this community, so i hope that someone here likes it. ...

fandom: hard core logo (the film not the novel.)
pairing: joe dick/billy talent (the fictional character not the band. heh.)
rating: nc-17
disclaimer: this is very much fiction and did not happen in the movie. or anywhere else. just in my head but even then. . . this is not exactly but vaguely sortof non-consensual smut.
word length: 556 (including title). oh, and 11 of those words are "fuck/ing".
a/n: i first wrote this on july 11th, 2002. forgive the suckness. please?

The room is spinning. I stumble to the dresser, trying to take swig from my beer bottle but miss my mouth and end up soaking my tattered blue sweater. I see Billy pulling at his clothes. I wonder vaguely why I always have to share a room with him and never John or. . . He yanks the zipper of his pants down, and I get distracted and detached from my thoughts watching his drunken movements. All I can think to is "Man, your shoes are still on." Maybe I say it because Billy's body stiffens. I've scared him. Fucking Billy Talent. L. Fucking A. super star. My fucking Billy.

. . .Fucking Billy.

I reach out and touch his back, nearly pushing him flat on the bed as I lose my balance. Is this room too hot. I thought we couldn't afford to stay in a motel with heat? I can't even fucking breath in here. I yank my sweater off.
"Joe?"
I cut Billy off with a kiss. Or at least I think it was a kiss. I try to suck all the air out of him but he's fighting me off. Saying words that come out as "stop" and "can't" but I'm not convinced. He hits me hard and I taste blood instantly and I start to fall backward off the bed. He reaches out and steadies me, panting. I want Billy to taste the blood in my mouth. Maybe he can suck out all the pain he put in. Fucking back stabbing cunt!

"Fuck you!" I scream, pouncing on him. I know that John can hear us in the next room but I don't fucking care about anything now. He throws me off and jumps up, almost falling over because his pants are around his ankles. He kicks his shoes off, dangerously close to my head. I climb back up and get in front of him. I knock him down to the bed again. He tries to swing at me but it's too late. I easily flip him over and he"s on his stomach. His back stabbing hands pinned under him. Those hands that so effortless play his stupid fucking guitar. I hate him! I l-

He cries out. Screaming like a wounded animal. I look down and I've got my dick inside of him. I didn't even feel it. "It's the alcohol. . ." Billy's squeezing too hard for me to pull out gently. Not that, that fucker deserves it. I don't even remember my pants coming off. I pull myself out and ram back into him. He cries out again, but somehow it sounds different than the first one. Less shrill more. . .
"You can't leave me now you fuck! Oh no, Billy. . .not now. I'm inside you."

I thrust harder and harder. The alcohol dulling my senses to shit but I can feel it coming. Slowly. The faster I smash into him, the deeper it is. It seems to start from somewhere far away but when I come inside Billy, it's blinding. For a second I hear a far away sound of Billy moaning but. . .it's all too fast, doesn't last long. For a moment I almost regret being drunk again. But all this just hurts too much. Billy Talent, my best friend since we were 13 years old, leaving the band. Our band.

Fuckin' cunt.

the end. feedback?

Comments

[nytelover.livejournal.com]

Wow.

Poor Billy. But I love this glimpse into Joe's head. Brutal fucker that he is, I love Joe Dick best.

You should xpost this to groupsession

[gilman-street.livejournal.com]

i think joe is my favourite too, but i've always had a soft spot for billy. (which is why i like to torture him in fics, obviously. heh.) joe's very intense but i think he has a soft spot for billy too. thanks for the comment.