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artificialqueens · 7 years

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One Single Moment (Bitney) - Veronica

FIC CHALLENGE PROMPT #4 - RHYTHM, OCCASION, HATE

A/N: Hey guys! It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything besides AU, but this prompt grabbed my attention and I figured it would be a fun way to get back to straight up canon-inspired drag queen fanfic. Hope you guys enjoy! XOXO, V

Summary - Roy gets inexplicably jealous when he sees Shane making out with a dude at a pride party, and turns into a miserable nightmare. Shane teases the truth out of him and they are both surprised by the results. Rating: Explicit

TW: heavy drinking, gay slurs (as used by Bianca Del Rio, not in a hate crime-y way)

I’m a slut for beta readers. So special thanks to my boo @toriibelledarling for her guidance with the initial concept and early intervention!! And of course, my Bitney idol, @artificialzeezee (anytime you come across a phrase and think “wow, I didn’t know V had literary skills…” I don’t. That was Z.) And the indispensable feedback from both @noxcounterspell and @wednesdayangeline !! And last but not least, @spokywrites for convincing me that I was smoking crack when I said I might not include smut. I love all you guys, thank you so much!! xoxo

Roy sits at the bar, pounding back shots, bitterness swirling around him like a dark cloud, trying to figure out where it all went wrong.

It had been such a good day - a great day. It was so rare nowadays for Bianca and Courtney to get booked together, so this Pride gig was one of the most fun they’d had in years. A day of constant insults, laughter and drinking. Three of her favorite things. And Courtney. Of course. Bianca started out the intro teasing her about her pants allergy, mocked her singing, and called her a washed-up wannabe Spice Girl, among other things. Courtney relished the attention, preening and blowing kisses and deflecting by telling Bianca she was a miserable old cunt, eyes glittering with joy.

Afterwards, they’d changed and hit the town, and it was like old times. The two of them, exploring the nightlife of an unfamiliar city, pushing their way through throngs of sweaty, exuberant crowds, gripping hands and bickering, and Roy couldn’t help glancing over, amused, at Shane, his face lit up with joy at the magic of Pride, like it was something he hadn’t experienced 50 times a year for the last decade.

Roy knew that he was kidding himself. When he repeated, over and over, that they were just friends. That this imaginary boundary he set for himself was sure to get crossed at some point. That the lingering glances, the fleeting fantasies, the hugs that lasted a little too long…it had to mean something. But he stuffed his feelings down, buried them deep, held them at bay with the next best thing. A profound, ride-or-die friendship, flirting just enough to get a small thrill but never crossing That Line. Exchanging all the banter and barbs and repartee of a 30s screwball comedy, only no happily ever after at the end. Convincing himself that he didn’t need that part, because he had his best friend. Which was more than enough, right?

And all it took was a moment, one moment, to destroy everything.

The club was a two story monstrosity with pounding bass and swirling lights. Shane hung on Roy’s arm, doing his typical thing, flirting with everyone who came within a 6-foot radius, begging Roy to dance. But Roy had another plan - drink until he felt happily buzzed, then, only once he’d put up a good fight, let Shane get his way, dragging him onto the dance floor. Where they’d be sandwiched together in the final ecstatic hour before closing, and Roy could stare into his gleaming eyes for a song or two, the dizzying lights and drunken crowd a perfect cover for an illicit, sweaty, not-quite-friends, not-quite-more embrace.

“Please?”

“I said no, you wretched cumbiscuit,” Roy countered, dimples deep in his cheeks, waving at the bartender again.

“Enough drinking, come dance,” Shane whined.

“I’ve only had two drinks, and I hate dancing…”

“You’ve PURCHASED two drinks, B. That dude over there bought us shots, and you also had drinks at dinner, and we’ve been to three other bars today where I’m pretty sure you were drinking–”

“So now you’re tracking my alcohol intake, asshole?” Roy feigned offense.

Shane giggled, tugging on his arm. “I’m just saying, I think you’re fully lubricated enough that you can handle a dance floor.”

“Lubricated?” Roy raised his eyebrow.

“Yes! Pleeeease…” Shane simpered.

“Mmmm…no.” Roy shook him off, tossing him a bunch of dismissive air kisses.

Shane pouted prettily. “Fine…I’ll just dance on my own then…” He pointed to the speakers, where Robyn’s ‘Dancing On My Own’ was playing.

Rolling his eyes, Roy lifted his glass in a toast. “Kismet!” he shouted, as Shane giggled and began to sing along, clutching his chest dramatically.

“Oooh-ooh-ooh……I’ll keep dancing on my own…” He twirled, finding a group of girls in rainbow flower headbands to dance who shrieked happily, screaming, “OMIGOD, COURTNEY!”

“I’m gonna go pee!” Roy called out to him.

Shane made the “WHATEVER” sign, tongue out.

“MATURE, BITCH!” Roy shouted, shaking his head and laughing some more.

Roy couldn’t have been in the bathroom for more than five minutes. And that’s only because there was a line. But when he stepped out, Shane wasn’t with those girls anymore. He was on the far side of the dance floor, pressed up against the wall, making out with some dude. Some fucking man whore in rainbow mesh shorts, triceps bulging, the smooth tan skin of his back glowing with youth and vigor.

It was like a sucker punch straight to the gut.

And Roy could suddenly feel every drop of alcohol he’d had drowning him in adrenaline. All he saw, was Shane…his Shane, in the arms of this stranger; the shock of a new found possessiveness was nothing compared to the unjustified anger that nearly knocked him sideways.

And that’s the moment when everything suddenly changed. When seething, blinding hate for this person Roy had never met began to course through his veins like fire. When his heart pounded with rage, his chest tight with the kind of intense jealousy that left him gasping for air.

He turned back to the bar, ordering shots, one after the other, and as he downed them, in quick succession, as he went back over the day’s events, thinking about how everything can shatter in an instant. Love is bullshit. A figment of our adolescent delusions.

There’d been no promises made between them. Roy had to admit that, as he drowned his bitterness with more and more liquor. So why did that moment feel like such a betrayal? It had always seemed, for all their head games, for all their bullshit, that at least they were on the same page. But now…

He swallowed the last shot in one gulp, the pathetic thought echoing in his head like the worst mantra of all time, unanswerable and dripping with self-loathing…

What is wrong with me?

And now here he is. Drunk, angry, disoriented. Filled with the horrifying realization that he has somehow, without meaning to, fallen for one of his best friends. His best friend. Who hasn’t the faintest idea. Who is probably off fucking some 25 year old underwear model on a stairwell right now. Roy feels sick, shakes his mind free of that terrible imagery, but is left with something worse - his own feelings.

If he’s honest with himself, it isn’t the feelings that bother him - he’s known about that for ages, and made his peace with their fucked up, unrequited dynamic. It’s this suffering, this pitiful feeling of helpless, jealous rage, that is pissing him off. Because he knows that after tonight, after what he just saw, all of his courage is gone. He knows now that he’s not ever going to have the guts to do anything. To say anything. He’ll be trapped. Forever doomed to watch from the outside, always invited to the party, but never really part of it.

Circling his finger on the rim of his glass, he tries to think about anything else- he looks around the bar for someone else to think about, but no one compares to Shane, unfortunately. It’s horrendous, to know he’s stuck in this miserable state of–

“Hey!”

Roy rubs his eyes, looking up to see Shane standing in front of him, bright-eyed, like nothing has happened. Like it’s all just a normal, magical night at the club. Lips a bit swollen, courtesy of his little friend back on the dance floor. Slut. “Having fun?” Roy can’t help the nasty, bitter edge his voice has.

“Yeah. I wish you were. What’s wrong?”

“Oh, I dunno. Too many faggots, I guess.”

“Wow, Nice. Happy Pride!” Shane lifts his arms up, grinning. “Remember to save some of that festive spirit for the rest of us.”

“Ugh.”

“Seriously, where’d that winning smile disappear to?” Shane teases, poking him in the cheek. “Why do you look like such a morose dickhead?”

“Why are you such a fuckin whore?”

Shane raises his eyebrows, eyes dancing with laughter. Lips twisted in an infuriating smirk. “Ummmm…I dunno. That’s a good question. Maybe ‘cause it’s fun?”

Roy scoffs.

Shane leans in, whispering, “I have something really important to tell you, though.”

“Yeah, what?” Roy asks flatly.

Shane lifts a finger, pausing dramatically for a moment, and then sings breathily against his ear, along with the music, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but chains and whips excite me…”

Roy shakes him off. He can’t take the lighthearted flirting right now. It’s intended to make him smile, make him laugh, he knows this, but it’s doing the opposite. It’s making him want to scream, pound his fists on the table, to throw his glass against the wall.

“Na na na, come on…” Shane continues, taunting Roy, fingers dancing along the back of his neck as he moves his hips rhythmically against him.

“Stop it!”

Shane laughs. “Fine. You know what you are? You’re the Grinch who stole Pride!” He shimmies back over to the dance floor, once again immediately finding a group of people to dance with, tossing sultry glances back over his shoulder.

Roy groans into his drink. Getting drunk is a lot more fun when he doesn’t feel so miserable, and of course when he’s not pining over his best friend, who seems to be having the time of his life. Roy wishes he could feel the same excitement everyone seemed to be having - maybe he’s just getting too old for nights on the tear, watching everyone else get lucky. He manages to ignore him for awhile, takes a few photos with excited fans, managing to feign enthusiasm, until he feels hands on his waist, hot breath on his neck, Whitney being crooned in his ear.

“I need a man who’ll take a chance On a love that burns hot enough to last So when the night falls My lonely heart caaaaaaalls…”

Shane slides his hands up and down Roy’s back, and there’s a haunting electricity between them; that maybe had been there the whole time if Roy bothered to have acknowledged it before. Roy feels a shiver go through him as the blonde bites playfully at him, lips grazing his neck.

“Oh, I wanna dance with somebody I wanna feel the heat with somebody Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody With somebody who loves me…”

Roy glares at him. “Delightful. Shocking that you didn’t win Idol. It’s like Whitney’s come back from the dead.”

Shane giggles. “Why thank you, sir.”

“Pfff,” Roy scoffs, irritated.

He slings an arm around Roy’s shoulders. “So. Ready to join in the party yet, or still wanna sit here drowning your sorrows like a hateful old hag?”

“Hateful old hag is my aol screenname,” Roy shoots back, glowering at him.

“Aol? Damn, you are old!” Shane’s eyes twinkle. “Come dance.”

Roy raises his middle finger. “Go fuck yourself.”

Shane sighs. “It’s PRIDE! And it’s your birthday week! It’s a special occasion! What kind of gay man goes to Pride and doesn’t at least grind against a couple of cute guys at a club? Or, maybe just one particularly attractive blonde guy with a sexy aussie accent.”

Roy rolls his eyes, curses softly under his breath before managing to meet Shane’s eyes with a playful glare. “We’re fucking drag queens, you asshole. This is my fifth Pride this year, and I’m booked for 47 more. I think I’m good.” He isn’t even going to touch the fucking birthday comment. Another fucking year. Fabulous.

Shane laughs. “America’s next drag superstar…Bianca Del Rio!”

“Hey, I won the grand prize, not Miss Congeniality. So…” Roy tosses back the rest of his drink and catches the eye of the bartender, gesturing for another.

“Alright, well. Good luck with that drink. What’s that, number 22?” Shane tugs affectionately on his ear.

Roy slaps his hand away. “Stop it. I don’t know, I’m not fuckin counting.”

Shane’s eyes suddenly light up. “Britney!” He presses a wet kiss to Roy’s cheek, right by his ear, and skips back to the dance floor.

Roy accepts the fresh drink and takes a sip, closing his eyes. He turns around to give Shane some judgemental side-eye, and is met with a full-on Courtney performance, writhing and grinding to the heavy rhythm of the pounding bass, using boys from the dance floor as props.

“I’m a…slaaaave for you, I cannot hold it, I cannot control it I’m a…slaaaave for you, I won’t deny it, I’m not trying to hide it Baby, don’t you wanna, dance up on me…”

Roy grips his glass, seething. God, was he always so naive? Maybe in his 20s when the most important thing was getting a tan and not catching something from a club toilet, but he thought age had taught him to be cynical and unbreakable- a better, stronger person in his opinion. He wanted to be aloof with his emotions, but here he was with his heart on his sleeve, all because he saw his best friend kissing someone else. When did he acquire human feelings, and a real working lustful, loving heart?! He looks back into the crowd, seeing Shane in the midst of dozens of people’s heated desires, and he tries to arrange the cluttering within his mind to have a clearer focus on what feeling is the most prominent.

Of course Shane has no idea how this seductive little performance is the last fucking thing Roy needs. How what he perceives as some typical flirting, a little teasing to cheer up his friend in a bad mood, is actually driving him fucking crazy. Every flash of his eyes, every arch of his back, thrust of his hips. Hands running up his body, tongue slowly licking his lips…Shane is just being Shane. Just playing around, tossing invisible hair and pulling faces and Roy has no idea why it’s suddenly having this kind of effect on him.

The result, actually, is that Roy is getting angrier and angrier until he is literally fuming; smoke pouring out his ears, eyes turning red rage. After the last drink - another double shot, which he finishes in one gulp, slamming down the glass so hard it nearly breaks, he closes out his tab and slides off the stool, pulling on his sweatshirt and heading for the door, blood boiling.

He’s almost halfway down the block when he feels Shane’s hands grabbing him from behind. He groans. So much for his escape.

“Hey! Were you seriously going to abandon me back there?”

Roy doesn’t answer, keeps walking.

“Bianca!”

Roy shrugs him off. “It didn’t seem like you’d miss me.”

“Um, what the fuck, B? We’re alone in a strange city! What happened to the buddy system? This is how someone ends up dead in a ditch. You wanna leave, you have to at least tell me, so I know you’re okay…”

“Maybe I’m not okay.”

“Yeah, that’s fairly obvious.” Shane laughs. “So what’s your problem? You were fine earlier. Did you get bad news or something?”

“Just…drop it…”

“You used to be a lot more fun…” Shane pokes him in the side.

“You used to have a lot more hair.”

Shane pretends to be offended. “Low blow.”

“Yeah, well.” Roy looks away, striding down the street, hands deep in his pockets.

Shane prances beside him, pestering him. “Well, then, what’s the problem? Old man can’t hang in until closing? All that joy and celebration getting you down?”

“Shut up, Courtney.”

Shane laughs gaily, as a clap of thunder sounds and rain begins to fall.

“FUCK!”

Shane pulls Roy’s hoodie up over his head, tucking it around him in a maternal fashion. “Would you calm down? It’s just a little rain!”

“Yeah, well, I fucking hate the rain, and now we’re trapped in it, and we’re gonna get soaking wet, and it’s just the perfect end to this fucking night.”

Shane continues to hurry along beside him, pulling his own sweatshirt on. “You know, rain is good. It helps things grow. Without rain, we can’t eat, or–”

“Fucking FUCK, will you just stop it, with all this Pollyanna bullshit! I can’t take it anymore!” Roy bellows.

Shane stops. “Sure, if you tell me why you’re being such a wretched cunt.”

“It’s…I…”

“Come on, B, just talk to me. The sooner you ‘fess up, the sooner we can get out of the rain…” Shane teases, putting his hands on Roy’s chest.

Roy swallows, the knot stuck in his throat formed of his many acidic emotions, and it burns to take back down. He knows this isn’t a good idea, but somehow, the alcohol swirling in his bloodstream makes him feel more reckless than usual, and numbs that knot enough to let him speak. Maybe if he just says it, gets it out in the open, then it will stop having a hold on him. And they can go back to normal. The sober part of him would be screaming at himself: “Shut the fuck up, you cunt! Don’t you dare, or else I’ll personally rip off one of your fucking-”

“Well…?”

Roy recuperates his lost sensibility as his eyes look anywhere but Shane’s. “I…I might…have been a little jealous back there.”

Shane’s eyes widen. “Jealous? Jealous…of who?” He tilts his head coquettishly, decides to offer him an out. “I can teach you that Britney choreo if you want…”

Roy scoffs, irritated. “Nevermind, you fuckin twat.”

“I’m sorry!” Shane giggles, suddenly a little self-conscious. He regrets making light of the moment, wants him to keep talking, “Really, just…I’m listening. Just tell me what you mean.”

Clearing his throat and avoiding eye contact, Roy lowers his voice and says quickly, “I just…I might sort of, uh, be attracted to you.” He glances back at him, pulse racing with fear.

Shane looks up at him, tiny raindrops collecting on his eyelashes, green eyes gleaming in the glow of the streetlights. “Is that all?” he asks. “Why didn’t you just say so?” He leans in, pressing his lips against Roy’s, one hand moving to the back of his neck.

For a moment, Roy is in sheer bliss, warmth radiating through him, rain be damned, as he pulls Shane closer, savoring the taste of his lips. But then the reality of the situation slams into him like a ton of bricks and he shoves the blonde backwards, flustered and panting, confusion taking over. “Why are you acting like this is simple?” he demands hoarsely.

“Isn’t it?” Shane asks, cocking his head to the side. A little laugh escapes him, and he reaches for Roy’s hand.

“I mean, it’s…it’s fucking us! How can you…this isn’t simple!” Roy insists.

“…And they say you’re the smart one,” Shane says, stepping closer. “Must be the glasses and sarcasm…you’ve got everybody fooled. Not me, though. I know those books you read are just celebrity memoirs you buy in airports. You’re really pretty dumb, obviously, or you’d know that this…is actually…very fucking simple–”

Roy is reeling, exhausted from the utter mindfuck of it all. “Will you shut the fuck up?”

Shane leans in, a challenging grin on his face. “Make me.”

There - eyeing one another up, tension rising along with the heat, warm rain pounding against his face - Roy doesn’t know what up from down is anymore. And he realizes that maybe their defining moment, the one that matters, wasn’t the one back in the club when his vision blurred with rage, the sight of Shane with that asshole, the forgotten celebrant lost in a cloud of glitter and strobe lights. Maybe this is the moment that will matter. The one that will change everything. And so he decides to throw caution to the wind just like the 20 year old he used to be would have done. All in the spirit of Pride, right?

Roy spins them around, pinning Shane to the side of the nearest building, grabbing him roughly and kissing him deeply, desperately, letting all of his pent up frustration out, everything he’s been longing for since before he knew he wanted it. He moans against Shane’s mouth, raindrops now coming faster, hitting his back, soaking through his sweatshirt.

“See? I told you,” Shane pants, cheeks flushed, “Simple.”

“We have to get out of here,” Roy states, feeling himself already losing control, needing more, hungry in a way that is causing him physical pain, and off Shane’s nod, asks, “Where’s the hotel? Where the fuck are we?”

Breathing hard, Shane asks, “Uh…I don’t…isn’t that where you were walking?”

“I was just walking, I was pissed…where were you walking?”

Shane laughs. “I was following you! Blind leading the blind, eh?”

“Fuuuuuck!” Roy turns his face to the sky, letting the rain hit him, pressing Shane harder against the building, whimpering in distress.

“Alright, alright, I’ll call an uber.” He pulls out his phone, one hand on Roy’s cheek, thumb stroking him soothingly.

Roy nuzzles the side of his face, finally relaxing a little. “You sound pretty sexy saying that.”

Shane chuckles and repeats “Ubaaah…” in an exaggerated accent. He finds the app and squeals delightedly. “Ooh, look, I love it when the cars have rainbows on them! Pride!”

“You’re a 12 year old girl,” Roy murmurs against his ear.

“Just call me Lolita.”

Roy makes a face. “Would you hurry up and get the car, asshole?”

Given how anxious and handsy Roy was in the back of the Uber, Shane isn’t surprised that once they are in the hotel room, he turns into a caged animal who’s just been unleashed - tearing at his wet clothes, throwing him onto the bed, sucking bruises into his skin, pulling his hair. It’s like he’s trying to devour Shane, body and soul.

What does surprise Shane is that he seesaws between this raw, animalistic passion, and a kind of unsettled anxiety that he’s too drunk to properly articulate. Something along the lines of “this changes everything,” and “what does this mean,” and when Shane tries to soothe his fears, by saying they don’t need to worry, let’s just enjoy tonight, live in the moment, that seems to make it worse.

“You don’t understand, you don’t understand…” he frets at one point, burying his face against Shane’s stomach, clutching his ass with both hands. Roy looks at Shane, at his best friend, and he just knows. He wants him so much, more than anything, and yet…it’s too much, it’s not just a night of fun, and Shane doesn’t get it. He’s not going to be able to just bounce back from this, go back to how it was before. He’s not like Shane. He can’t put things in neat little boxes, separate emotion from sex, love from friendship - not with him. “You don’t understand…” he repeats.

Shane understands just fine. He understands that they’ve been rolling around on the bed together for thirty minutes by now, and he’s good and ready to get fucked, and all this circular talk is starting to get annoying. But he also understands that Roy is thoroughly inebriated, probably blackout, and most likely this isn’t going to happen, (for purely…logistical reasons) and so he takes Roy’s face in his hands, kissing his swollen lips. “I do, I understand. You’re worried that things are going to change. Right?”

Roy nods, sleepy eyes falling closed as Shane strokes his hair. “Uh huh…I don’t want…I mean I do…fuck…” He digs his fingers into Shane’s waist.

The one time you have to show human emotion, aye Haylock? Shane thinks. Couldn’t just be some kind of sex robot and do your damn job. “I know.” Shane looks into his eyes, unable to stop the wave of sadness that overtakes him as Roy ruts desperately against him.

“I’ve ruined everything…haven’t I?”

Shane pulls the comforter over them, easing Roy onto his back, a firm hand on his thigh stilling his urgent movements. “Listen. Maybe tonight isn’t…you’ve had a lot to drink. I don’t want you to do something you’re gonna regret tomorrow.”

Roy is breathing hard. He wants to protest but the room is spinning and Shane’s body is warm beside him and so he just nods, slowly drinking the glass of water Shane forces on him, pounding heart slowing down as Shane curls against him, rubbing his shoulders, kissing his neck, gently playing with his fingers. He feels as if he’s been on a roller coaster with the erratic twists his emotions took him on, and now he’s left to recover. He wants to throw up, but whether that’s from the come down of drinking or Shane’s soft touch, he isn’t sure.

Shane can’t stop touching him. He realizes that there’s a very real possibility of Roy waking up in the morning with no memory of any of it. He wonders what, if anything, he should tell him. Maybe it’s better this way. Because as much as he wants this…whatever it is…he knows that Roy isn’t him. That he doesn’t have the same ability to seize the moment, let loose, and just play. That whatever turmoil he was experiencing will be magnified tenfold in the harsh light of day, without alcohol to dull the pain. The major difference being, once sober, he’ll bottle it up inside and it will just eat away at him.

Wrapping his arms around Roy’s warm, familiar body, Shane presses a cheek to his shoulder, holding back tears, making a decision then and there. He won’t burden him with the embarrassing reality of rain-soaked confessions or desperate embraces or the tangle of limbs that ultimately led nowhere. What Roy remembers, that’s the reality. What Shane remembers…that part can disappear in the whisper of the witching hour. A sacrifice to the gods of Pride. For a second, Shane doesn’t know who he hates more - himself or Roy, as he clings to him in the dark, holding on as long as he can, until he feels sleep tugging at him.

He kisses Roy, who is snoring by now, one final time, running a hand through his hair, and rolls over to the other side of the bed, shivering slightly.

The first thing Roy sees, when he manages to pry open his eyes, which feel like they are glued shut, is the array of hangover cures on the nightstand. Painkiller, gatorade, alka-seltzer. He even smells fresh coffee. He blinks, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. He’s in a hotel room. It’s not his hotel room, but it looks similar. Did he hook up with someone? He’s definitely naked, all signs point to yes. Who?

That’s when he sees it. The wigs. The costumes. The makeup case open and spread out on the dresser. The…fuck fuck fuck. He’s not in a random hotel room. He’s in Courtney’s hotel room. This is bad. He sits up in a panic.

“Oh, hey, you’re up.” Shane, in a pair of the skimpiest orange briefs Roy has ever seen, and an Alaska tank top, strolls casually over to the nightstand, dropping the Alka-Seltzer into a glass of water.

“What…what am I…?” Roy’s heart pounds. He starts to have a full-on anxiety attack, looking up at Shane, sputtering, “Did we–what happened–why am I–Oh fuck–”

“Relax. Drink.” Shane shoves the glass at him. “Coffee?”

Roy nods, gulping down the alka-seltzer. He watches Shane walk over to pour him a cup of coffee, then crawl onto the bed to hand it to him, along with two advil.

Shane sits on his heels, chewing on his lip. “Better?”

Roy shifts uncomfortably, pulling the comforter tight around his waist. “Uh…” What the fuck happened last night? He tries to piece it together. He remembers the restaurant where they ate dinner, some tapas place, making fun of the way Shane began with his finger in the air, dainty as could be, and finished by shoving the delicious Spanish food directly down his throat. He remembers laughing a lot, and wine, and walking arm in arm to some bar, more drinks, a dance club, and then…Shane kissing some guy, that feeling of intense jealousy, wanting to drown his rage, dull his senses…then things got hazy. He clears his throat, voice shakier than he intends. “What…happened last night?”

Shane takes the empty coffee cup back and sets it on the nightstand. “Nothing. I mean…you drank a lot. So…the usual. That’s it.”

Roy is skeptical. “Then why the fuck am I naked in your bed?”

“Because you were naked when you passed out.”

He begins to get irritated. “Why was I naked?”

Shane shrugs.

“Courtney.”

“Don’t worry about it. I told you, nothing happened.”

Roy stares at him, eyes narrowed, a queasy feeling in his stomach. “You’re a fucking liar.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe you shouldn’t get blackout drunk so much. In your 20s, that’s partying. In your 40s, it’s just called alcoholism.”

Roy grabs him by the wrists. “What. Happened?” He has no idea why Shane is being so fucking elusive. Normally he crows about every conquest before it even happens. Normally, he’d be embellishing, laying it on thick, spinning a tall tale about their alleged drunken hook-up that made Blanche Deveraux blush.

Shane heaves a deep sigh. “It was…you were drunk. I don’t know if you even…you were in a mood, and I was harassing you to tell me why, and you said that you were attracted to me–”

Roy winces, an involuntary reaction that he immediately regrets, mostly because of the hurt look in Shane’s eyes as he continues.

“–Yeah, exactly, which I know would never have happened if you weren’t intoxicated, and I kissed you, and…” Shane hesitates, looking away.

“…and?” Roy’s mind is reeling. He doesn’t remember, and yet, there’s a lingering sense memory, as if he can taste Shane on his lips, feel their bodies pressed together. His heart races.

“And we came back here, and we made out a little, thus the nudity, and I realized that you were like, pretty much incapacitated and I’d be a sexual predator if I let things go any farther simply because of a selfish desire to live in the moment,” Shane says, words now spilling out of his mouth quickly, his voice taking on a bit of an edge as he adds pointedly, “and honestly, who knows if they even could have…”

Roy purses his lips. He’s not really in a position to protest that particular accusation. But if they didn’t sleep together, why is Shane being so…so…

Shane continues, “And then we went to sleep. So…you’re good. Virtue intact. You can you back to pretending you have no feelings, and I can go back to–”

Roy’s had enough. The expression on Shane’s beautiful face, his eyes misty. Roy can feel an instinct taking over, can feel the desire for intimacy that goes entirely against his nature. And he knows, that this moment matters more than all the others. That he needs to end this miserable dance they’ve been doing, this dynamic that’s been destroying them both while they looked the other way. So he pulls Shane closer, and whispers, “What makes you think I want to pretend?”

Shane’s heart begins to hammer in his chest. “It just seemed like…you regretted it right away and wouldn’t want to–”

Roy silences him with a kiss, forceful and slow, tongue invading Shane’s mouth. His hands wander down Shane’s body, wrapping around his waist, catching him completely off guard. After a few moments, they separate, breathless, and just look at each other, hearts pounding.

“Still drunk, huh?” Shane teases gently.

“Must be…” Roy replies, rolling him over, lips against his neck.

Shane grabs a handful of his hair, inhaling sharply as Roy finds his pulse point and sucks, hands now sliding slowly up his shirt. It doesn’t take long for Shane to realize that where last night he’d been desperate, messy, insecure…today he’s deliberate, controlled, torturously slow.

Biting down hard on his lip, Shane arches up, color rising to his cheeks. Roy has removed his shirt and now works his way down his torso, licking him, kissing him, sucking gently at last night’s bruises.

“Are you…are you sure?” Shane breathes. He’s not going to be able to handle another near miss. “Last night–”

“Forget about last night,” Roy murmurs, warm breath against Shane’s skin driving him mad. “I started this. I’m going to finish it…”

Shane simply nods, gripping Roy’s hair harder, giving himself over to the moment, letting his eyes fall closed, surprised by how easily he was giving up control. Usually he was all about manipulating the situation, being the one in charge, either overtly or by intentionally allowing himself to be objectified, putting on some kind of a show.

But right now, the way Roy’s hands glide over his skin, the way his eyes gleam with desire, Shane feels dizzy, like he’s spinning out into space, Roy’s body against his all that’s anchoring him to the physical world. He feels seen in a way that leaves him breathless, and cherished in a way that makes him open and raw.

He takes ahold of Roy’s face and kisses him deeply, tasting the plushness of his mouth, wrapping a thigh around him, heart racing. He gropes blinding for the nightstand, flinging open the drawer and pulling out the condoms and lube he’d abandoned there after last night’s disaster.

Roy glances over, slightly amused. “In a hurry, huh?” He trails a finger teasingly down Shane’s thigh.

“If you remembered last night, you’d have a bit more fucking empathy,” Shane says, fingers digging into his waist, following it up with a breathy, “…please?”

Roy flashes mischievous grin, trailing lips along Shane’s jaw, his neck, finally breathing into his ear, “Turn over.”

Shane feels a shiver run down his spine as they lock eyes. He nods, panting, flipping onto his stomach, closing his eyes, aware of nothing but the weight of Roy’s body bearing down on his, the sound of his heartbeat, the rough feel of his face where his beard is growing in. Shane reaches an arm back to wrap around his neck, turning his face to tangle their tongues together, utterly lost in the moment.

It surprises Roy, how easy it is for him to let all the worries and anxieties and fears slip away, once Shane is finally in his arms. He can feel the blonde melting against his touch, and suddenly it’s all perfectly right. Shane’s body molds to his, pushing backwards. His moans start airily, growing more and more intense. Roy holds him closer, tighter, moving faster, gripping his hips.

Shane is panting, trembling, so close now, he can practically taste it in his throat. So when Roy suddenly pulls away, he lets out an aggrieved groan of pure frustration, turning around, eyes blazing with anger.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Roy teases, dimples deep in his cheeks, “I just wanted to see your pretty face.”

Shane lays back down, hooking a leg over Roy’s shoulder, arching up, nails digging into his neck. “This is the face of a person…about to die.”

“You’re being very dramatic.”

“Ughh!”

Roy silences him with another kiss, pressing him down into the mattress. “Stop whining and maybe you’ll get what you want.”

Shane grips him tighter, knuckles turning white. “I think I liked you better drunk.”

Roy’s head drops to Shane’s shoulder, unable to suppress an evil cackle. He lifts his eyes a moment later to see Shane’s heavy-lidded, pleading eyes. He takes a finger and traces his lips, moving slowly against him. “God, you’re beautiful…”

Rolling his eyes, Shane decides to take matters into his own hands, flipping Roy onto his back and climbing on top of him, hovering over him on his hands and knees. “Would you just shut up and fuck me?” Shane asks, hands on his shoulders.

Roy grins up at him. “Only if you say please…”

Shane narrows his eyes, lowering himself down slowly, watching Roy’s face melt from a challenging smirk into blissful agony. He sighs in relief, rolling his hips, digging his fingers into Roy’s skin.

Roy begins to thrust up, slowly, hands sliding up Shane’s thighs to wrap around his waist, wondering why the fuck it’s taken him so many years to bite the bullet. Staring into Shane’s eyes, pupils dilated with lust, the feeling of his warm, flushed skin, the way he leans forward, mouth pressed hungrily to Roy’s own, sucking on his lips - it’s all better than Roy ever imagined. He moves one hand around to press Shane’s dick to his stomach.

“Ohhh, god!”

“Well, I’ve been called worse,” Roy says with a smirk, thrusting up faster.

Shane responds by biting down hard on Roy’s shoulder as his muscles start to contract, moaning into his skin, gasping for breath, grasping handfuls of Roy’s thick hair in his hands.

Roy quickly rolls him back over, taking charge again for the final ecstatic moments, driving into him harder, pinning one leg back. There’s something primal and aggressive, like he’s proving something to both of them, completely eradicating the bitter memories of the night before.

It seems to be working, by the rapturous expression on Shane’s face. Roy cradles his head with one hand, pressing their foreheads together, the other stroking his dick, earning indecipherable moans and whimpers. He brushes his lips against Shane’s jaw, stroking harder, feels him explode in his hand, muscles tightening, and finally lets himself start to come too.

Shane gulps for oxygen, hands stroking Roy’s back, arching up against him to help him through. Roy groans into his hair, lips pressed to his temple. Afterwards, Shane has an urge to say something snarky, but suddenly finds his mind a complete blank. So he sighs, inhaling the scent of Roy’s skin, listening to the sound of his heart beating wildly.

Roy curls around Shane’s back, fingers skating over his skin, both of them slick from sweat. He can feel Shane’s pulse still racing, as he tries to catch his own breath. “So…better than last night?”

Shane chuckles, lacing his fingers through Roy’s. “Yeah, I’d say it was slightly more satisfying.”

Roy lays a head on his shoulder. “I’ll take it.” He closes his eyes, breathing in, attempting to push down the nagging thoughts that tug at him, threatening to destroy the serenity of the moment. Those pesky, frustrating thoughts that he can’t shake. What now? Where do we go from here? Was this just a one-time thing? That queasy feeling is returning, accompanied by the all-too-familiar self loathing. Why can’t he just enjoy things as they come? His stomach churns, when suddenly he’s shaken out of these spiraling thoughts, surprised by the next words out of Shane’s mouth.

“Think you might want to do it again sometime?”

He lifts his head to look into Shane’s eyes, propping himself up on his elbow, trying to suppress a smile as he teases, “What happened to living in the moment?”

Shane pauses before replying softly, “I guess I’m feeling greedy.” He holds Roy’s gaze, bringing his fingers to his lips. There was a point last night, where he was fairly certain that this was just going to be sex. And he’d been okay with it, then. But somehow, now, in this moment, he knows that he needs more. And so he looks at Roy, eyes burning, heart in his throat, as he says, “I guess I want more moments.”

Roy smiles, taking Shane’s face in his hands, dimples deep in his cheeks. “You can have them all,” he replies.

#fic challenge #bitney #courtney act #bianca del rio #smut #angst #fluff #veronica #canon compliant #one single moment #tw slurs #rpdr fanfiction #submission #tw heavy drinking

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roslinadama-sinequanon · 7 years

Text

My Thoughts on Episode 5X17-Dead Drop

Yes, I was a little salty last night over the cut off proposal but overall I truly did love this episode. I've already watched it twice and will be watching again. And why? Was it the riveting case? Um...No. Yes this is a crime procedural and the case is supposed to be the center of the show, but to be honest I'm hardly ever all that interested in the case. In the first couple seasons there were some compelling cases that tugged at my heartstrings but except for the Nazi three- parter last season and a few hit or misses, I'm rarely caught up in a case anymore. Of course when it has Sharon getting punched in the face, well, that sure grabbed my attention. But mostly what I've come to enjoy and look forward to on MC are the characters and their stories. I find myself wishing the interrogations would hurry up and get finished so we can get back to the good stuff, which for me are the interactions between the main characters. Of course #1, Sharon and Andy. But also Julio and Mark, Provie and Andy, Andy and Rusty, Sharon and Winnie, Sharon and Fritz, Sharon and Mason, Sharon and Provie, Sharon and Rusty, Sharon and Gus. Well, let's face it, Sharon and ANYONE.

So, no it wasn't the case that had me giddy and re-watching. Here is what did it.

1. Dr Morales- I absolutely loved the humor in this episode and the way Morales just inserted himself into the case--and the fact that they let him do it. Sharon was even willing to take the flak from Winnie for allowing Morales to watch the interrogation. Job well done Jonathan Del Arco.

2. Dr. Morale's father-Because I know they originally wanted Edward James Olmos for the role I kept picturing how he would be playing it. I think he would have been more intimidating because, well, EJO can be pretty intimidating. And in the morgue, Morale's father gave Andy a suspicious look and as an obsessed Roslin/Adama shipper I know that if it had been EJO I would have been thinking (Oh, he's attracted to Sharon and he can see there is something between Sharon and Andy and he's trying to figure out what it is and isn't too happy about it--cause that's just where my mind goes) When in reality Morale's dad was simply trying to figure out why Andy was trying so hard to make it plausible that the death had been accidental rather than a murder so he could go on his romantic tryst with Sharon. I was pretty much on to the fact that his dad knew Morales was lying and that his friends were covering for him--I mean the guy was a detective. He knows how a police dept. works and that the medical examiner doesn't lead the investigation in a murder. I did love the fact that unbeknownst to any of them, including his son, he speaks English well and enjoyed my re-watch to see what he heard people saying when they thought he didn't speak their language.

3. Julio gets Mark back!

4. Another Sharon/Winnie Davis showdown-Man, that woman is freaking emerald green with jealousy when it comes to Sharon and Major Crimes. I mean it’s seething out of her pores. I'm not sure about the hierarchy when it comes to the LAPD, but is Winnie Davis Sharon's boss? I mean I know she outranks Sharon, but does she really have the right to keep storming in on Sharon and her team during investigations? It seems not only rude but unprofessional. I feel like she has no business there and no business questioning Sharon as it is not her department (Again Winnie reminds me so much of my boss. My boss does this kind of stuff all the time--it ruffles feathers and people feel about her the same way they do on MC about Winnie). If anyone has the right to storm in and question Sharon it should be Fritz. Isn't he her direct superior? You don't see Sharon storming off and getting involved in SOB or Robbery/Homicide cases.

I enjoy watching how calm Sharon remains in the face of Davis's antagonism. You just know Davis is trying to get a rise out of her, to start a fight, and Sharon just isn't giving it to her. And that frustrates the hell out of Davis. She just can’t seem to get completely under Sharon’s skin.

My favorite interaction between the two was when Davis tried to get Sharon to back down on her request for equipment asking her something like "You want me to let them know they all got bumped down so Major Crimes could jump to the top" and Sharon's simple "Yes please, thank you" BOO-YAH! That was NOT what Davis was expecting.

My second favorite moment was when Morales's dad asked who the "witch" was in Spanish. Davis gave him a glare. I wonder if she speaks Spanish as well as he speaks English :-) Then again it's hard to tell, Davis has one facial expression "pissed off". Also liked it when he said "Adios Amiga" and Andy's "I wish". I know I’m not getting these exactly right but that was the gist.

Davis comes off like the whining kid in class who is jealous of the teacher's pet--in this case Sharon being Fritz's pet. And she relishes the day Fritz is gone and Sharon no longer gets preferential treatment. Interesting that she no longer seems to feel that Sharon is a threat for the job as she makes a pretty blatant assertion that Sharon and her dept. will be pretty much done once the new Asst. Chief is hired. Does that mean she thinks she's a shoe-in or does she now have an "in" with Mason? She seems pretty unconcerned with pissing Sharon off so that leaves me to believe she is not in the least bit worried about Sharon getting the position and then getting rid of HER. If she really thought Sharon was a front runner you'd think she'd be kissing her ass.

5. The hype leading up to the proposal.

Andy, you adorable little idiot in love! How stinking cute was our guy being so excited and wanting to make some grand romantic gesture--like sweeping Sharon off to Napa or, when the Napa plans were ruined, trying to get reservations at Serve where they had their first date. One thing I thought that was just a tad off was that Rusty seemed to come off as knowing Sharon's personality better than Andy. Normally that wouldn't be a big deal because he's lived with Sharon longer than Andy has. However, in the past it's always been Andy giving Rusty insight into how to handle Sharon rather than the other way around. And, Sharon doesn’t hate surprises, she seems to have enjoyed them in the past, and been touched by them. Not a big deal, just an observation.

Both Rusty and Provie knew about the romantic plan. I assumed by their comments that they both knew Andy was going to propose. But later, when Andy shows Rusty the velvet box, it's apparent he hadn't precisely told them everything that he was going to do, though I think they both had an inclination that this was more than just a romantic interlude. Provie makes a comment in the beginning about Andy being up to something and Rusty didn’t seem all that surprised when Andy showed him the velvet box.

I just completely loved Andy Flynn in this episode. He was so eager, sweet, excited and romantic--and yes Sharon, very handsome. All those Andy smiles and that twinkle in his eye. Mary is right, that smile is irresistible--as is his boyish enthusiasm.

Andy/Sharon interaction-Sharon could see something was up and her return smiles were perfect, slightly confused but so loving and charming. They were just so damn adorable. You could really feel their connection in this episode.

At the condo-Oh my heart, Andy leaning so sexy against the table/buffet and Sharon's "Oh Andy, so handsome" Ooh la la. Then her having to shoot down his offer to take her to dinner and blowing him a kiss. Awww.... If it weren't for the proposal I think we would all have been going gaga just over this little moment between them--which proves how little we are given.

Andy and Rusty- After complaining last week that Rusty is still calling Andy lieutenant, we got to see the bond that has truly grown between these two men. And Rusty calling him Andy. I actually LOVED Rusty in this episode. I loved how Andy was relying on him to help out with his plans. And how Rusty worked to calm Andy down when things weren't going his way and how he was willing to do whatever he could to help his step-daddy-to-be plan his romantic night with Sharon. He's come a long way from "ewwwing" the very idea of them sleeping together or being threatened by the idea of them buying a house together. And then when Rusty is a little puzzled that Andy is getting so worked up over a missed dinner and Andy shows him the velvet box to make him understand how important the night is, Rusty comes to the rescue again and offers to help out and take care of everything. And not only that, but to do it in a way that respects Sharon's need for privacy and Andy's need to make a grand romantic gesture.

Andy's "It's burning a hole in my pocket". He's finally made the decision to ask Sharon to marry him and he doesn't want to wait a second longer than necessary. He's like a kid at Christmas. It kind of reminded me of Billy Crystal's proposal in "When Harry Met Sally" “When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."

Rusty-For ONCE he didn't ruin a Shandy scene!

6. The proposal-The setting was perfect. All the candles, the flowers, the dim lights, the music. It was intimate in the way Sharon would want and over the top romantic, the way Andy wanted.

I actually got teared up along with Sharon when she asked "What is all this?" and Rusty responded “This is all Andy Flynn." OMG. Just the way he said it oozed with "You got a such great guy there Mom, just LOOK at what he’s done for you" And Sharon was obviously so moved. Even more so when they stepped out onto the balcony and he mentioned that he ordered dinner from Serve, and she too remembered it was where they'd had their first date.

Loved the way Andy got started, saying he'd been thinking about them lately and her stroking his tie--I wonder if that's a Sharon thing or a Mary thing as she seems to do that a lot---and that living together could really just be the beginning.

Alas, that's when the euphoria ended. When we actually got conversation on the balcony I foolishly started to believe that we were going to hear this proposal! And then, boom. As soon as Andy turned around and shut the balcony doors I knew it was over. I mean why shut the doors? Who didn't he want to hear? US! Because you know, it might have actually MEANT something to the fans to be shown something for once rather than just being told.

That said I did LOVE that Andy went down on one knee. Oh my romantic shipper heart! And from what we could see of Sharon she looked surprised. And maybe happy? We were so far away it was hard to tell.

So, I know there are fans out there who think Shandy fans want/expect too much. And yes, I'd love for the show to revolve completely around them but know that isn't going to happen except in fanfic--and in my fantasies that when MC is over there will be a spin-off of a married Sharon and Andy opening a PI business together and using their years of expertise to solve crimes the LAPD hadn't been able to solve--but that's a whole other story. So, no I didn't expect a fifteen minute dinner and proposal. However, there were two ways that could have made that scene perfect IMO that didn’t have to add much time at all.

1. Just finish it out for crying out loud. Let Andy say something simple like "I love you Sharon and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?" I mean we had a whole episode leading up to a PROPOSAL and we still didn't get ONE I love you! How hard is it to say "I love you" Sharon says it to Rusty all the time.

2. Then again, if TPTB didn't know what to have Andy say they could have just had the music get louder so we couldn't hear the words but keep the freaking camera on the balcony so we see Andy's face as he gets down on his knee and we SEE Sharon's expression close up, ending with her either nodding her head or mouthing the word “yes” and hugging him so we’d know how the proposal ended. As it was we were left wondering if she'd said yes or if she’d said she'd have think about it--I doubt she would have given him an outright "no". That really took a lot of the joy out of the proposal. But I’m feeling better today after reading Mary's tweet saying how happy she is to be engaged, so we at least know she said yes. But how sad is it that we had to learn that from the actress who plays Sharon rather than us getting the chance to participate in such a momentous moment.

My plea-Duff STOP telling us stuff and start SHOWING us!! Yeah, I know if it hasn't happened by now it isn't going to happen, but a part of me still hopes. I'd like to take bets on whether or not we will have ever heard Sharon and Andy uttering the words “I love you” ---to each other, not their kids--- and if they will ever share a kiss by the time Major Crimes ends. Though it seems ridiculous there is a very good chance that could happen.

I hope hope hope there is talk about the proposal next week. Normally I’d think that wasn’t going to happen. That we’d been given our token Shandy moment for the season and the proposal/marriage wouldn’t be spoken of again this season--unless Rusty and Gus were discussing it. Then at the beginning of season 6 we’d find out they got married over the hiatus. Yes, that could still very well happen, but I have hope for a proposal/wedding conversation with Ricky coming to town next week.

Okay, time to go watch again :-)

#sharon raydor #andy flynn #shandy #Major Crimes #James Duff #shandy proposal

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