Title: Never
Rating: R
Characters: Captain Hammer/Billy
Word Count: 573
Summary: Billy knows it never would have worked with Penny.
Warnings: Dub con, angst, non-explicit sex 
A/N: This is for jamie55 who requested Never - Hammer/Billy, Penny. I really hope you like it! Also, I'm using this for my fanfic100 prompt Enemies.

 

“It never would have worked,” Captain Hammer whispers. He’s too close, always too close. His hands run over Billy’s bare skin, searing into his flesh.

He knows Billy doesn’t like to be touched. He touches him to prove he can. Billy wants to flinch away, but he’s so bone-weary, so exhausted, that he doesn’t think he has the energy.

There’s nowhere to run, anyway.

“You and Penny,” Captain Hammer clarifies. “It wouldn’t have worked.” His voice is thick and gloating, celebrating his victory.

Billy shifts on the bed, trying not to think. Captain Hammer straddles him, keeping him still. His hands continue their journey over Billy’s skin, mapping out the body pinned beneath him.

Billy supposes he deserves this. He couldn’t kill Captain Hammer, and now he’s being punished for his cowardice. He’s lost the one thing that mattered to him – it never would have worked, a voice in the back of his head echoes – and all he has left is the person he hates the most. No, not the most – the person he hates most is himself.

Captain Hammer’s hands move away and fumble at his belt, but Billy can still feel the impression of them on his skin, polluting his body. He wipes and wipes, but the touch is still there.

Captain Hammer notices and grabs his wrists, pinning them above his head. “Don’t pretend you don’t want this,” he says in a low voice.

Does he want this? Billy isn’t sure if he does anymore; he’s not even sure if he ever did. But Captain Hammer is bigger, stronger than him, and Billy’s thoughts are lethargic and slow, directionless ships drifting through the fog of his mind. He tries to focus, but Captain Hammer’s grip is burning his wrists, his taut stomach pressed hard against Billy’s skin, and he can’t think.

“It never would have worked,” Captain Hammer hisses again, his mouth close to Billy’s ear. “Remember that, Billy-buddy.”

It doesn’t hurt, not really. Not as much as it should. Billy wonders detachedly why it doesn’t hurt.

Captain Hammer, now apparently satisfied that he won’t try to move, releases Billy’s wrists. He keeps his hands in contact with Billy, though, as he moves off his waist and repositions himself between Billy’s legs. He grips Billy’s hips, hard – not hard enough, Billy thinks – as he pushes inside.

Billy closes his eyes and tries to block out his thoughts. He concentrates on Hammer’s rhythmical moans; his own ragged breathing; the racing beat of his heart.

Captain Hammer speaks, saying something about her and sex and what Billy never had. Never will have. Billy blocks out the words, blocks out their meaning, just letting himself hear the pitch and timbre of the voice over the blood pounding in his ears.

And for a brief moment, the fog rolls away, and everything is sharp and bright and brilliant again. For a second, he can feel. The weight of the world that he’s been carrying on his shoulders lifts, and he almost forgets what has happened.

But too soon, the clarity has gone, the fog closes in again. Captain Hammer rolls off him with a grunt, and Billy slides off the bed and searches the floor for his discarded clothes. He pulls on his hoody and jeans and leaves the room without a backwards glance, but he knows he’ll be back.

When it’s his only chance to feel, he’ll never be able to stay away.