Hard Core Logo Fic
Sep. 9th, 2003 04:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nnyI was just trolling through old discs, and found this. Never got it betad properly, and I had absolutely no idea where to post it, so it's never really been read. I think it was my first non-XF fic.
It's a Hard Core Logo Billy/Joe fic. Let me know what you think. =)
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Billy gets drunk, tells stories
I – First music.
Writing songs in the dark, flashlight or candlelight made no difference so long as we covered the windows. Whether I was hiding him from my mom’s boyfriends, or we were in some rat-infested squat and trying not to let anyone know, or… hell, even when we didn’t need to, we always hid the light.
Our heads were always so close together, lying on our bellies in the only space that was clear of our trash- chips and soda cans at my place, butts and baggies and bottles when we graduated to roach filled shit-hole band houses. Never wrote, never played without him and if I did I wouldn’t tell because the music was always ours. Lying so close on the floor I could smell when he dyed his hair even if the light wasn’t good enough to see him smile.
Never smiled in public, but I loved to see him scowl- concentrating so hard on the music ‘til his face was twisted up with the strain of it. The drugs took that away from him, hid him behind a mask that wasn’t Joe at all. The smile was him, but in a different way. Shit-eating grin that he showed to reporters was all part of Joe Dick, but he was just Joe when he used to smile.
II – First friend.
Knew each other since Kindergarten, and I guess it started there- not the love, ‘cos it was hate at first sight and I split his lip two seconds after we met- but the dependence, the need started there. He was always bigger, not just than me, and he was the only one allowed to whale on me; protected me from the other kids like I was his fuckin’ property or something.
Sometime the whaling stopped and the protection stayed, looking out for me and isolating me, both at once- I never dated in high school, but that was okay ‘cos I had a guitar, taught Joe to play while he taught me that I didn’t need people- taught me too well, I guess, ‘cos I stopped needing him.
The music was good, eventually. Always played together, wrote together, fought together. Fucked together? Yeah, but that came later, and it was never the way it coulda been. Needed him for so long, just to keep me safe, keep me together, that when the need was gone it scared me. Drank just to keep the need there, later- wanted to need him to look after me. He was in no state to look after anyone, but I needed him to be there even if it was just to have someone to pass out next to.
III – First band.
13 years old. Peckerhead. Lasted maybe five minutes until we split, citing creative differences. See, he thought I was the peckerhead.
IV – First gig.
Eighteen years old was Hard Core Logo. I forget where Pipe came into it, and John was the only fake family I ever got on with- my mom and his dad lasted maybe two weeks. The songs were shit- simple and repetitive, but we played them fast enough, loud enough that no one could tell. Our first gig scared us shitless; all but Joe, and I guess that’s where Joe Dick was really born, even though the name started two years earlier in Frank Johnson’s basement. I was always Billy, but I forget where the Tallent came from… Wherever it was, he’s gone back, and this time I guess he’ll stay there. No Billy without Joe.
No Joe.
Christ. I need a drink.
V – First kiss.
We started fighting again with the bands… music was this big emotional thing with us, and that had to go somewhere. Later we found another way, but back then we were kids and no matter how many girls Joe said he’d fucked I knew he’d done about as much as me.
Laying on the floor in my room, listening to my mom screaming at whoever the hell it was tonight, and pretending to Joe that I was okay but not really looking at him. It was one of the things that we pretended didn’t happen, and if sometimes I showed up at his in the middle of the night he just accepted it.
This time, though, he put his hand on my shoulder. And it helped- it shouldn’t have, really. I should’ve shrugged it off, told him to go fuck himself, whatever. I didn’t.
Turned my head, looked at him, closed my eyes. Do not know what I was expecting, but what I got was soft contact of lips to lips for a coupla seconds and a cuff round the back of the head. He ruffled my hair and asked me what else rhymed with fuck. That was it.
VI – First fuck.
He brought her to the backstage room and introduced us. I was maybe… 15, 16? Amateur gig, opening for some high school band I don’t remember the name of.
Whispered, “Nothing but the best for Billiam”, and winked as he closed the door.
Awkward, fumbling, hated every second, didn’t even think she was pretty. But I did it. I fucked her for Joe.
Owed him that much.
VII – First love.
And in the end…
***********************************************************************
I kinda like it, I've decided.
It's a Hard Core Logo Billy/Joe fic. Let me know what you think. =)
*************************************************************************
Billy gets drunk, tells stories
I – First music.
Writing songs in the dark, flashlight or candlelight made no difference so long as we covered the windows. Whether I was hiding him from my mom’s boyfriends, or we were in some rat-infested squat and trying not to let anyone know, or… hell, even when we didn’t need to, we always hid the light.
Our heads were always so close together, lying on our bellies in the only space that was clear of our trash- chips and soda cans at my place, butts and baggies and bottles when we graduated to roach filled shit-hole band houses. Never wrote, never played without him and if I did I wouldn’t tell because the music was always ours. Lying so close on the floor I could smell when he dyed his hair even if the light wasn’t good enough to see him smile.
Never smiled in public, but I loved to see him scowl- concentrating so hard on the music ‘til his face was twisted up with the strain of it. The drugs took that away from him, hid him behind a mask that wasn’t Joe at all. The smile was him, but in a different way. Shit-eating grin that he showed to reporters was all part of Joe Dick, but he was just Joe when he used to smile.
II – First friend.
Knew each other since Kindergarten, and I guess it started there- not the love, ‘cos it was hate at first sight and I split his lip two seconds after we met- but the dependence, the need started there. He was always bigger, not just than me, and he was the only one allowed to whale on me; protected me from the other kids like I was his fuckin’ property or something.
Sometime the whaling stopped and the protection stayed, looking out for me and isolating me, both at once- I never dated in high school, but that was okay ‘cos I had a guitar, taught Joe to play while he taught me that I didn’t need people- taught me too well, I guess, ‘cos I stopped needing him.
The music was good, eventually. Always played together, wrote together, fought together. Fucked together? Yeah, but that came later, and it was never the way it coulda been. Needed him for so long, just to keep me safe, keep me together, that when the need was gone it scared me. Drank just to keep the need there, later- wanted to need him to look after me. He was in no state to look after anyone, but I needed him to be there even if it was just to have someone to pass out next to.
III – First band.
13 years old. Peckerhead. Lasted maybe five minutes until we split, citing creative differences. See, he thought I was the peckerhead.
IV – First gig.
Eighteen years old was Hard Core Logo. I forget where Pipe came into it, and John was the only fake family I ever got on with- my mom and his dad lasted maybe two weeks. The songs were shit- simple and repetitive, but we played them fast enough, loud enough that no one could tell. Our first gig scared us shitless; all but Joe, and I guess that’s where Joe Dick was really born, even though the name started two years earlier in Frank Johnson’s basement. I was always Billy, but I forget where the Tallent came from… Wherever it was, he’s gone back, and this time I guess he’ll stay there. No Billy without Joe.
No Joe.
Christ. I need a drink.
V – First kiss.
We started fighting again with the bands… music was this big emotional thing with us, and that had to go somewhere. Later we found another way, but back then we were kids and no matter how many girls Joe said he’d fucked I knew he’d done about as much as me.
Laying on the floor in my room, listening to my mom screaming at whoever the hell it was tonight, and pretending to Joe that I was okay but not really looking at him. It was one of the things that we pretended didn’t happen, and if sometimes I showed up at his in the middle of the night he just accepted it.
This time, though, he put his hand on my shoulder. And it helped- it shouldn’t have, really. I should’ve shrugged it off, told him to go fuck himself, whatever. I didn’t.
Turned my head, looked at him, closed my eyes. Do not know what I was expecting, but what I got was soft contact of lips to lips for a coupla seconds and a cuff round the back of the head. He ruffled my hair and asked me what else rhymed with fuck. That was it.
VI – First fuck.
He brought her to the backstage room and introduced us. I was maybe… 15, 16? Amateur gig, opening for some high school band I don’t remember the name of.
Whispered, “Nothing but the best for Billiam”, and winked as he closed the door.
Awkward, fumbling, hated every second, didn’t even think she was pretty. But I did it. I fucked her for Joe.
Owed him that much.
VII – First love.
And in the end…
***********************************************************************
I kinda like it, I've decided.
