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Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, gore, violence, explicit language, mentions of sexual violence, mentions of death, mentions of bisexuality, racism, homophobia, body shaming, mourning, drug use, PTSD, trauma, angst, fluff, smut

Disclaimer: I do not own any of The Boys/ Gen V/ DCU characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

This one has been cooking up for a while and I need to write this down, so putting a preview out and seeing if people are interested will be the way to motivate me. AND it means I can flick between multiple fics and universes in order to keep writing and not get bored rather than hit writers block, having the urge to write and not knowing what to do with it. Slow updates as always

It wasn’t ever really something ‘official,’ but there was no question between the Boys or anyone else they came across you were Butcher’s. It was expressed not through words—well, maybe a ‘ere, love, or a c’mon, pet, or perhaps even a good girl—but instead through his actions. The commonplace arm around your shoulders. A large paw on the small of your back. Fingers digging into your calf when your feet are propped in his lap.

You were his. No test needed, no approval, no proof.

That didn’t seem to matter to the man at the bar tonight, though.

You’d been at the dive in order to scope out a Vought lab assistant known to have a loud mouth and a direct tap to his brain through liquor. Cheap liquor, at that. Enough to drown him in, which was exactly what Butcher looked like he wanted to do from where he was perched at a corner table, watching the bum paw all over you at the counter.

Undercover was your wheelhouse. Between flashing pretty smiles to plying men you’d never met or distracting authorities while your boys snuck behind their backs, you were the go to when the others needed information or a quick getaway. Tonight wasn’t an exception; the drinks kept coming, and though you were only halfway through your first, the guy with you was downing number four and using each one as a shot of liquid courage to sidle closer. And closer. And closer. Until he was reaching out to slip a thumb over the necklace around your throat, to give you a crooked, wobbly grin and a rather crude offer.

“Want to go back to my place?” he asked of you over the music of the bar. “Promise to show you a better time than you know what to do with.”

Before you could formulate a response kind enough to keep him hooked but with the notes of a rejection, you felt that familiar warmth against your back and fingers on your upper arm.

“She’ll be busy tonight, mate,” came Butcher’s familiar warm, raspy gruff from behind you. “‘Preciate the offer, though.”

You half expected Butcher to drag you out of the bar and into the car, where he’d already have his hand down your jeans before he’d pulled out of the lot. But instead he steered you through the building and to the back restrooms, where he glanced over your shoulder a moment before he guided you into the men’s room and locked the door behind you.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” you asked of him—just before he backed you against the door and connected his lips to yours.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss or a soft, affectionate one like the touches he would dole out when he was too many whiskeys in and deep in his feelings. It was deep and domineering, possessive and akin to a predator marking what was his and his alone. Teeth clicked against yours and his tongue plunged into your mouth, licking at your own, down your throat, anywhere and everywhere. One of his hands came up to grasp firmly at your jaw, keeping your head where he wanted it and forcing you to take what he gave you.

It seemed like an eternity before he finally pulled away and you felt like you were swimming for air, desperate.

“Billy, what—“

“You was just goin’ to let that wanker touch you like that?” Butcher huffed, free hand beginning to work deftly at his belt buckle. “Thought I wouldn’t have any kind’a problem?”

You felt the familiar spark of arousal shoot through you as he leaned forward again and skimmed his nose along your jaw, the scratch of his beard pulling goosebumps over the skin of your arms. His tongue flicked out to drag a warm, wet path as you heard his zipper yank down before he set to work at your own pants.

“It was just—nngghh.” You swallowed thick, breath hitching, when he expertly dragged both your jeans and panties down just enough to expose your already-throbbing sex to the cold air of the bar’s bathroom. “Just doing what I normally do. Information. Wasn’t anything real.”

“He ain’t have to grope all over you.”

“If that was groping, what is this?”

Butcher pulled back a few inches to peek at you, then cracked a twisted smile that resembled an animal bearing his fangs. It made your stomach flip like a rising tide.

“Makin’ sure you know who you belong to.”

He dragged his aching cock through your folds once, twice, sending fireworks between synapses, before sinking into you in one solid thrust. Pleasure and a whisper of delicious pain cut through you and you released an airy sound that harmonized with his deep rumble of pleasure.

“Ah, fuck,” Butcher said in a low, thrumming gasp. He gave you just a handful of moments to adjust to him before he started rolling his hips soundly, firmly, against your own, pulling his leaking cock out almost entirely before pushing back in. “There we go. There’s a girl…”

If this was what came of drunken men and wearing your necklace over your collar, you’d be happy with taking a trip down here to the dive bar every other day of the week. Colors danced behind your eyes, the greens and pinks and oranges of pleasure as Butcher leaned himself back in to mouth and sucked at your neck while he continued to ram you against the bathroom door.

The sound of the lock clicking gently against the metal doorframe with every thrust tingled the sense still left inside you, and your fingers clutched uselessly at the back of his jacket.

“Billy—fuck! We’re in public…”

“Don’t care,” he replied, hands gripping the plush of your waist just beneath the hem of your shirt. “Like I could’a waited ‘til we got home.”

You were grateful for the loud-ass music being showered down over the bar, because otherwise the other patrons could most assuredly hear your whimpers and mewls and loud, ragged pants for breath as Butcher fucked into you. You jutted your hips, arching your back, into every one of his movements to meet him halfway, and when one hand came down to deftly roll and circle your clit, you scrambled—and failed—to hold onto that tiny flicker of control.

“Shit,” you said, voice echoing like a reverb there in the little restroom. “Fuck—fuck, Butcher. M’gonna cum…”

“Yeah,” he said. “Cum f’me, pretty girl. All over my cock. Show me you’re mine.”

You did just that, finding your release around him and gripping him like a vice. Stars like the cosmos themselves surrounded you, behind your eyelids, filling your thoughts. You were vaguely aware of Butcher swearing loudly and hitting his own climax with one final deep thrust and a grip holding you to himself like an anchor. Hot, filling pulses throbbed inside your heat and you rasped softly for breath when he rocked gently into you a few more times, ensuring it all stayed inside.

Only then was he satisfied enough to pull out, hands starting to tuck himself back into his pants.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Butcher mumbled, leaning in to catch your lips with his again. This time it was just a touch softer than the first; still marking and claiming, but with a hint of gentleness now that he’d sated his need. “All good?”

You felt yourself bob your head a few times, swallowing thick as your hands fumbled to fix your jeans. “Good,” you said, warmth like a bonfire spreading from your core, to your toes, to the very top of your scalp.

Oh, it was always good with him, you were always good after him. Whether it was like this, all hot, fierce kisses and fucking against the bathroom door to show how much it bothered him when another man touched you, or when he was firmly gentle and slow in his movements, all wrapped up in his sheets and keeping you against his side afterward… it was always so, so good.

Butcher tugged you to him and placed a rough kiss atop your head, his own cheeks still a touch rosy from the exertion. Then he unlocked the door and held it open for you to pass through—but not before he gave your ass an affectionate smack as you ducked under his arm.

As you both passed the bar where your target was still sat, a pathetic dog still awaiting an audience for a cheap trick, Butcher flashed the guy a smirk and a cheeky wink.

//

‘Heeyyy Biiully’

‘Oops I meean Billllly’

‘🤣’

She giggled to herself as her thumbs fumbled across the glowing keyboard. The club bass was vibrating and the strobe lights colorful, but her fuzzy mind was focused on getting the attention of a certain brooding Brit.

“Who are you texting?” Annie practically shouted into her ear.

Her head flopped towards her. “Noooo one.”

Frenchie suddenly popped up. “She is messaging Monsieur Butcher.”

“Okay really?” Annie gave her a look.

“Annie! Caaaan I pleeeaaase have a hit off your dab pen?” she begged before going back to her phone.

‘Buiillly’

‘Fuk I mean Billy. Ur name is hard to spelll lol’

‘Annnie says hellllo’

‘Frenchie sayys hiii too’

‘idk wat Kimi is sayin wit her haands🤣’

On the other side of town, hidden away in the van, Billy pulled out his buzzing phone. Seeing her name popped up multiple times, he felt obliged to tap the screen and read through them. He was worried that maybe the girls’ night out had been compromised until he read through the messages.

“Bloody ‘ell.” He chuckled to himself.

She was out of her mind drunk. Absolutely arsed. He could still see the three bubbles in the corner appearing and disappearing as she decided what to say next.

‘U have ur red receipts on! I kno u seeee me👀’

He typed out a response with a scoff. ‘How drunk are ya love?’

She squealed in delight at his response. He called her love. She practically swooned all over Frenchie, who had become both her physical support and an uninvited spectator to the conversation.

She giggled madly, pressing the phone to her chest. “He called me love.”

Frenchie chuckled. “Yes, ma chère, I heard.”

“He’s cute like that.”

“Monsieur Charcuter is cute?” Frenchie glanced at Kimiko and Annie in disbelief. “We are speaking of the same man, yes?”

“He’s sooooo cute. No! Better than cute! He’s sexy.” She swayed off of Frenchie’s shoulder to Kimiko’s.

Annie rolled her eyes. “You’re seriously encouraging this?”

The reply was both the Frenchman and silent supe leaning over to watch her type out more messages.

‘U calllled me llove😍’

‘Love lol’

‘Like when u do that’

‘Do it agian😏’

‘Again fuc’

Billy found himself smirking. So, she liked how he talked? He glanced over at Hughie in the driver’s seat to confirm the lad wasn’t looking over his shoulder. No doubt he was getting updates from Annie about the whole situation, but judging by the way he kept his gaze fixed on the windshield, he didn’t know the specifics.

‘Ya like me callin ya love…love?’

He snorted to himself. He was a cheeky bastard, and he was never going to let her live this down. The little dots began their disappearing, reappearing act once again.

‘Hehehe yes I do’

‘I think bout u calllling me lovve late at night…’

‘Do ya now?’ Butcher shifted in his seat.

‘Yyyeeeess lol I think about ur mouth a lot too’

‘Ur beard and mustache r veryy nice’

‘It’s hot when ur maad😍’

‘Ur hot’

A brilliant idea popped into her alcohol-soaked brain. Setting her phone in her lap, she fidgeted with the top of her dress, pushing her tits up. Annie quickly set her drink down when she realized what was about to unfold.

“Absolutely not,” The blonde chastised.

“What? Whhhyyyy?” She whined.

“Yes? Why not? Let her have her fun!” Frenchie laughed.

“Because you’re drunk and will regret this tomorrow!” Annie went for the phone but was quickly intercepted by Kimiko.

“No, I won’t!” She slurred. “I’m showing him where his face goes!”

She giggled like a madwoman before taking her phone back from Kimiko. Opening the camera, she inspected her reflection. She wasn’t quite satisfied with the lack of support her dress was providing.

Suddenly, a pair of hands slid beneath her chest and pushed everything up and together, creating a much more desirable effect.

Frenchie couldn’t stop laughing as Kimiko held her friend’s chest in place, wearing the same drunken grin.

Both women dissolved into uncontrollable laughter while Annie groaned at the ceiling in defeat.

“Thank you, Kimi!” She smiled brightly.

Kimi responded by scrunching her nose with a quiet giggle.

Angling the camera, she snapped a quick picture. Her cleavage took center stage, but Kimiko’s hands and Annie’s horrified expression were impossible to miss. Unbeknownst to them, Frenchie had taken a picture of the scene for safekeeping. Tomorrow’s embarrassment was simply too valuable to risk losing.

‘Image attached’

‘Am I hot too?’

Billy glanced at Hughie before angling the screen away and opening the attachment. The first thing he noticed was her gorgeous tits. They were practically popping out to say hello. His eyebrows climbed as he admired the picture.

Then he frowned.

What the fuck?

A pair of hands were visibly pushing them up from underneath.

Billy took a closer look.

Kimiko’s laughing face occupied one side of the frame while Annie was in the background looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“Bloody ‘ell, love,” he muttered with a smirk.

As he began to type out a response, another photo came in.

She stood in the club bathroom, staring into the mirror. One hand grasped the hem of her dress, pulling it up just enough to tease a glimpse of the lacy stocking peeking out beneath. Her painted lip was caught between her teeth, and her gaze lingered on the camera with a drunken sort of longing.

Billy shifted in his seat again. “Oh…shit.”

‘I wore these for youuuu👀😏’

‘Ya lik em Billlluy?’

‘Damnit’

‘Billy’

//

The door to the safe house burst open with the sound of laughter. Annie led the charge looking utterly exhausted wrangling the three drunk people behind her. Billy and Hughie, who’d been lounging in the makeshift living room, watched as the little circus made their way inside.

“I’m going to bed. It’s someone else’s turn to babysit these assholes,” Annie complained, slipping out of her heels and making a beeline to Hughie’s room.

Frenchie stumbled in with Kimiko on one arm and her on the other, both clinging for balance as they kicked their shoes off.

“Careful, mon coeur. You will drag us all down with you!” He stumbled a bit before releasing Kimiko to the nearby couch.

The supe flopped down with a happy smile and signed something, glancing at Billy.

Frenchie smiled mischievously, looking from his boss to the other drunk girl. “Ma chère, look who is here!”

Her drunk stare shifted from Kimiko’s signing hands to the tall, muscular figure that stood from the armchair. Her eyes widened with glee and a lazy smile spread across her lips. Slipping from Frenchie’s grasp, she swayed her way towards the object of her drunken desires.

“Billlly! I’ve been thinkin’ about you aaalllll night!” She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck to hang off it. “Did ya miss me? Cuz I missed yooooou!”

Hughie stood from the couch with an awkward grunt. “Yeah…good luck with…all this. I’m gonna check on Annie.” He didn’t spare a second glance before disappearing down the hall.

Billy quickly caught her, one arm around her waist, one across her back. “Easy, love. Bloody ‘ell, French. I told ya not to let’em get totally arsed.”

“It could not be helped, Monsieur Charcuter.” He shrugged. “Girls night is a wild affair.”

She hummed, standing on her tiptoes. “We were just having fun, Billy love.”

Billy chuckled. “I can see that.”

“Why don’t you give us a kiss?” she asked before planting her lips to his.

A soft grunt left his throat as she used her full weight to almost yank them both to the floor. Her body arched into his as she pressed her lips to his more fervently, fingers slipping into his hair and around the back of his neck. Her kisses suddenly migrated to his cheek and down his neck.

Frenchie and Kimiko both watched in amusement as Billy tried to restrain her with little success.

“Oi! At least buy me dinna’ first, love.” He teased.

A sweet giggle reached his ear. “You. Me. Bedroom. Now.” Each word punctuated by another kiss to his skin.

Billy glanced at Frenchie for aid, but the man simply held his hands up in surrender. “She is a determined woman, monsieur. I would not fight her.”

She slinked out of Billy’s grip and took him by the hand, pulling him along to the closest bedroom. His.

//

Her eyes hadn’t even opened before she felt the pounding in her head. Her stomach churned unhappily, threatening a sprint to the bathroom if she so much as thought about alcohol. Light flooded in through the thin slats of the shades, but the room was still a decent dark.

She rolled onto her side and curled around a pillow. Taking a deep breath, she was met with the scent of cologne, cigarettes, and a hint of sweat.

That didn’t seem right.

One eye cracked open.

The bedding she was cuddled against was definitely not hers. The ashtray and bottle of whiskey on the nightstand weren’t hers either. The realization slammed into her already aching body like a freight train.

She sat up so quickly she nearly sent the room spinning. Wincing, she clutched her head as the pounding behind her eyes intensified.

Once it subsided enough for her to focus, she cracked her eyes open again.

A pile of her clothes sat on the floor beside a familiar pair of black boots. She quickly looked down at her body to see she was wearing a black button up printed with a Japanese dragon on it.

Another familiar article of clothing.

The bedroom door suddenly opened, sunlight flooding into the room and sending her back under the covers like a vampire. Billy’s deep chuckle hit her ears before the sound of the door clicking shut.

“Well good morning, lush.”

She could hear the grin in his voice.

Peeking out from beneath the blanket, she found Billy standing at the edge of the bed wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. A steaming mug sat in one hand while a cheeky grin stretched across his face.

“We had quite a night last night, didn’t we?”

“Oh god.” She groaned, hiding her face once again.

He jostled her as he sat down. “Said that a lot.”

An even louder groan emitted from the blanket.

“Nah, it was more of a ‘ngh oh my god!’” He imitated.

The mortification couldn’t get any worse. But it did.

“Didn’t know you could bend that way, darlin’,” he said, nonchalantly sipping from the mug.

She flew out from beneath the covers. “WHAT?”

“Flexible lil’ thing, aren’t ya?”

“This is not happening,” she complained, rubbing her temples. “We actually…”

Billy smacked his lips and offered her the mug. “It did. Twice.”

“Billy…um…I…,” she stuttered.

“Havin’ trouble connectin’ the dots, are we?”

Her eyes shifting from their discarded clothes to their undressed state gave away her absolute confusion. He set the mug on the already full nightstand before he began to explain.

“Well, let’s see. After sendin’ a few texts about how much ya liked it when I called ya love. Then there was the bit where you said it made your knickers wet.”

He tried not to laugh as her eyes went wide and cheeks burned red.

“Then there were the pictures. Gave me a nice view of your tits and legs.” He shrugged. “Highlight of my night up to that point.”

With a groan, she slapped her hands over her eyes and fell back against the mattress, praying it would simply swallow her whole. This was not how she wanted this to happen.

“My favorite bit was when ya got back,” he continued. “Hung off my neck and gave me a proper snog.”

“Seriously?!?”

He chuckled. “Guess that’s when ya decided ta drag me off ta the room for a little romp and…”

He snapped his fingers.

“Boom. Out like a light.”

Her embarrassment stalled.

She peeked through her fingers. “What?”

He nodded. “Second ya hit the mattress, ya made yaself a lil’ nest outta me blankets n’ pillows and started snorin’ like me grandad.”

“I don’t snore,” she argued.

“You most certainly do, love,” he shot back playfully. “And you cuddle like a fuckin’ koala.”

As she sat up, Billy took the mug back and handed it to her. He could tell she was still confused when her gaze drifted to the pile of discarded clothes on the floor.

“Wasn’t about ta let ya sleep in that tight scrap of fabric,” he chuckled.

Staring at the mug of tea, she felt relief. But, something else manifested. She was still morbidly horrified by her drunken antics, but a pit of disappointment settled in her chest.

“So…” She glanced up at him. “Nothing happened?”

A soft grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Not from lack of tryin’ on your part, love.”

She gave a half smile, but he could see the disappointment on her face.

“Look ‘ere.” He took her chin between his fingers. “Ya weren’t in no state to have me climb on top of ya.”

The room fell quiet.

She studied his face for any teasing, but there wasn’t.

“Besides,” he muttered, brushing his thumb along her cheek, “I’d rather you remembered the next time ya crawl into me bed.”

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Next time? He wanted a next time?

Before a response could leave her lips, he gently pressed his to hers. Her eyes closed instantly. His mustache tickled her nose, drawing a soft laugh from her. His lips were warm and surprisingly gentle, and for a moment she forgot all about her pounding headache.

The kiss ended far too soon for her liking, but the throbbing of her head brought her back to her hungover reality.

He chuckled seeing a sweet blush tint her cheeks. The hand on her chin shifted down and cupped the bottom of the mug, bringing it to her lips for a sip.

“Next time, try not to get so bloody drunk, yeah?”

She giggled and nodded.

//

‘Heeyyy Biiully’

‘Oops I meean Billllly’

‘🤣’

She giggled to herself as her thumbs fumbled across the glowing keyboard. The club bass was vibrating and the strobe lights colorful, but her fuzzy mind was focused on getting the attention of a certain brooding Brit.

“Who are you texting?” Annie practically shouted into her ear.

Her head flopped towards her. “Noooo one.”

Frenchie suddenly popped up. “She is messaging Monsieur Butcher.”

“Okay really?” Annie gave her a look.

“Annie! Caaaan I pleeeaaase have a hit off your dab pen?” she begged before going back to her phone.

‘Buiillly’

‘Fuk I mean Billy. Ur name is hard to spelll lol’

‘Annnie says hellllo’

‘Frenchie sayys hiii too’

‘idk wat Kimi is sayin wit her haands🤣’

On the other side of town, hidden away in the van, Billy pulled out his buzzing phone. Seeing her name popped up multiple times, he felt obliged to tap the screen and read through them. He was worried that maybe the girls’ night out had been compromised until he read through the messages.

“Bloody ‘ell.” He chuckled to himself.

She was out of her mind drunk. Absolutely arsed. He could still see the three bubbles in the corner appearing and disappearing as she decided what to say next.

‘U have ur red receipts on! I kno u seeee me👀’

He typed out a response with a scoff. ‘How drunk are ya love?’

She squealed in delight at his response. He called her love. She practically swooned all over Frenchie, who had become both her physical support and an uninvited spectator to the conversation.

She giggled madly, pressing the phone to her chest. “He called me love.”

Frenchie chuckled. “Yes, ma chère, I heard.”

“He’s cute like that.”

“Monsieur Charcuter is cute?” Frenchie glanced at Kimiko and Annie in disbelief. “We are speaking of the same man, yes?”

“He’s sooooo cute. No! Better than cute! He’s sexy.” She swayed off of Frenchie’s shoulder to Kimiko’s.

Annie rolled her eyes. “You’re seriously encouraging this?”

The reply was both the Frenchman and silent supe leaning over to watch her type out more messages.

‘U calllled me llove😍’

‘Love lol’

‘Like when u do that’

‘Do it agian😏’

‘Again fuc’

Billy found himself smirking. So, she liked how he talked? He glanced over at Hughie in the driver’s seat to confirm the lad wasn’t looking over his shoulder. No doubt he was getting updates from Annie about the whole situation, but judging by the way he kept his gaze fixed on the windshield, he didn’t know the specifics.

‘Ya like me callin ya love…love?’

He snorted to himself. He was a cheeky bastard, and he was never going to let her live this down. The little dots began their disappearing, reappearing act once again.

‘Hehehe yes I do’

‘I think bout u calllling me lovve late at night…’

‘Do ya now?’ Butcher shifted in his seat.

‘Yyyeeeess lol I think about ur mouth a lot too’

‘Ur beard and mustache r veryy nice’

‘It’s hot when ur maad😍’

‘Ur hot’

A brilliant idea popped into her alcohol-soaked brain. Setting her phone in her lap, she fidgeted with the top of her dress, pushing her tits up. Annie quickly set her drink down when she realized what was about to unfold.

“Absolutely not,” The blonde chastised.

“What? Whhhyyyy?” She whined.

“Yes? Why not? Let her have her fun!” Frenchie laughed.

“Because you’re drunk and will regret this tomorrow!” Annie went for the phone but was quickly intercepted by Kimiko.

“No, I won’t!” She slurred. “I’m showing him where his face goes!”

She giggled like a madwoman before taking her phone back from Kimiko. Opening the camera, she inspected her reflection. She wasn’t quite satisfied with the lack of support her dress was providing.

Suddenly, a pair of hands slid beneath her chest and pushed everything up and together, creating a much more desirable effect.

Frenchie couldn’t stop laughing as Kimiko held her friend’s chest in place, wearing the same drunken grin.

Both women dissolved into uncontrollable laughter while Annie groaned at the ceiling in defeat.

“Thank you, Kimi!” She smiled brightly.

Kimi responded by scrunching her nose with a quiet giggle.

Angling the camera, she snapped a quick picture. Her cleavage took center stage, but Kimiko’s hands and Annie’s horrified expression were impossible to miss. Unbeknownst to them, Frenchie had taken a picture of the scene for safekeeping. Tomorrow’s embarrassment was simply too valuable to risk losing.

‘Image attached’

‘Am I hot too?’

Billy glanced at Hughie before angling the screen away and opening the attachment. The first thing he noticed was her gorgeous tits. They were practically popping out to say hello. His eyebrows climbed as he admired the picture.

Then he frowned.

What the fuck?

A pair of hands were visibly pushing them up from underneath.

Billy took a closer look.

Kimiko’s laughing face occupied one side of the frame while Annie was in the background looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“Bloody ‘ell, love,” he muttered with a smirk.

As he began to type out a response, another photo came in.

She stood in the club bathroom, staring into the mirror. One hand grasped the hem of her dress, pulling it up just enough to tease a glimpse of the lacy stocking peeking out beneath. Her painted lip was caught between her teeth, and her gaze lingered on the camera with a drunken sort of longing.

Billy shifted in his seat again. “Oh…shit.”

‘I wore these for youuuu👀😏’

‘Ya lik em Billlluy?’

‘Damnit’

‘Billy’

//

The door to the safe house burst open with the sound of laughter. Annie led the charge looking utterly exhausted wrangling the three drunk people behind her. Billy and Hughie, who’d been lounging in the makeshift living room, watched as the little circus made their way inside.

“I’m going to bed. It’s someone else’s turn to babysit these assholes,” Annie complained, slipping out of her heels and making a beeline to Hughie’s room.

Frenchie stumbled in with Kimiko on one arm and her on the other, both clinging for balance as they kicked their shoes off.

“Careful, mon coeur. You will drag us all down with you!” He stumbled a bit before releasing Kimiko to the nearby couch.

The supe flopped down with a happy smile and signed something, glancing at Billy.

Frenchie smiled mischievously, looking from his boss to the other drunk girl. “Ma chère, look who is here!”

Her drunk stare shifted from Kimiko’s signing hands to the tall, muscular figure that stood from the armchair. Her eyes widened with glee and a lazy smile spread across her lips. Slipping from Frenchie’s grasp, she swayed her way towards the object of her drunken desires.

“Billlly! I’ve been thinkin’ about you aaalllll night!” She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck to hang off it. “Did ya miss me? Cuz I missed yooooou!”

Hughie stood from the couch with an awkward grunt. “Yeah…good luck with…all this. I’m gonna check on Annie.” He didn’t spare a second glance before disappearing down the hall.

Billy quickly caught her, one arm around her waist, one across her back. “Easy, love. Bloody ‘ell, French. I told ya not to let’em get totally arsed.”

“It could not be helped, Monsieur Charcuter.” He shrugged. “Girls night is a wild affair.”

She hummed, standing on her tiptoes. “We were just having fun, Billy love.”

Billy chuckled. “I can see that.”

“Why don’t you give us a kiss?” she asked before planting her lips to his.

A soft grunt left his throat as she used her full weight to almost yank them both to the floor. Her body arched into his as she pressed her lips to his more fervently, fingers slipping into his hair and around the back of his neck. Her kisses suddenly migrated to his cheek and down his neck.

Frenchie and Kimiko both watched in amusement as Billy tried to restrain her with little success.

“Oi! At least buy me dinna’ first, love.” He teased.

A sweet giggle reached his ear. “You. Me. Bedroom. Now.” Each word punctuated by another kiss to his skin.

Billy glanced at Frenchie for aid, but the man simply held his hands up in surrender. “She is a determined woman, monsieur. I would not fight her.”

She slinked out of Billy’s grip and took him by the hand, pulling him along to the closest bedroom. His.

//

Her eyes hadn’t even opened before she felt the pounding in her head. Her stomach churned unhappily, threatening a sprint to the bathroom if she so much as thought about alcohol. Light flooded in through the thin slats of the shades, but the room was still a decent dark.

She rolled onto her side and curled around a pillow. Taking a deep breath, she was met with the scent of cologne, cigarettes, and a hint of sweat.

That didn’t seem right.

One eye cracked open.

The bedding she was cuddled against was definitely not hers. The ashtray and bottle of whiskey on the nightstand weren’t hers either. The realization slammed into her already aching body like a freight train.

She sat up so quickly she nearly sent the room spinning. Wincing, she clutched her head as the pounding behind her eyes intensified.

Once it subsided enough for her to focus, she cracked her eyes open again.

A pile of her clothes sat on the floor beside a familiar pair of black boots. She quickly looked down at her body to see she was wearing a black button up printed with a Japanese dragon on it.

Another familiar article of clothing.

The bedroom door suddenly opened, sunlight flooding into the room and sending her back under the covers like a vampire. Billy’s deep chuckle hit her ears before the sound of the door clicking shut.

“Well good morning, lush.”

She could hear the grin in his voice.

Peeking out from beneath the blanket, she found Billy standing at the edge of the bed wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. A steaming mug sat in one hand while a cheeky grin stretched across his face.

“We had quite a night last night, didn’t we?”

“Oh god.” She groaned, hiding her face once again.

He jostled her as he sat down. “Said that a lot.”

An even louder groan emitted from the blanket.

“Nah, it was more of a ‘ngh oh my god!’” He imitated.

The mortification couldn’t get any worse. But it did.

“Didn’t know you could bend that way, darlin’,” he said, nonchalantly sipping from the mug.

She flew out from beneath the covers. “WHAT?”

“Flexible lil’ thing, aren’t ya?”

“This is not happening,” she complained, rubbing her temples. “We actually…”

Billy smacked his lips and offered her the mug. “It did. Twice.”

“Billy…um…I…,” she stuttered.

“Havin’ trouble connectin’ the dots, are we?”

Her eyes shifting from their discarded clothes to their undressed state gave away her absolute confusion. He set the mug on the already full nightstand before he began to explain.

“Well, let’s see. After sendin’ a few texts about how much ya liked it when I called ya love. Then there was the bit where you said it made your knickers wet.”

He tried not to laugh as her eyes went wide and cheeks burned red.

“Then there were the pictures. Gave me a nice view of your tits and legs.” He shrugged. “Highlight of my night up to that point.”

Hands slapped over her eyes as she fell back against the mattress, praying it would just swallow her up. This is not how she wanted this to happen.

With a groan, she slapped her hands over her eyes and fell back against the mattress, praying it would simply swallow her whole. This was not how she wanted this to happen.

“My favorite bit was when ya got back,” he continued. “Hung off my neck and gave me a proper snog.”

“Seriously?!?”

He chuckled. “Guess that’s when ya decided ta drag me off ta the room for a little romp and…”

He snapped his fingers.

“Boom. Out like a light.”

Her embarrassment stalled.

She peeked through her fingers. “What?”

He nodded. “Second ya hit the mattress, ya made yaself a lil’ nest outta me blankets n’ pillows and started snorin’ like me grandad.”

“I don’t snore,” she argued.

“You most certainly do, love,” he shot back playfully. “And you cuddle like a fuckin’ koala.”

As she sat up, Billy took the mug back and handed it to her. He could tell she was still confused when her gaze drifted to the pile of discarded clothes on the floor.

“Wasn’t about ta let ya sleep in that tight scrap of fabric,” he chuckled.

Staring at the mug of tea, she felt relief. But, something else manifested. She was still morbidly horrified by her drunken antics, but a pit of disappointment settled in her chest.

“So…” She glanced up at him. “Nothing happened?”

A soft grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Not from lack of tryin’ on your part, love.”

She gave a half smile, but he could see the disappointment on her face.

“Look ‘ere.” He took her chin between his fingers. “Ya weren’t in no state to have me climb on top of ya.”

The room fell quiet.

She studied his face for any teasing, but there wasn’t.

“Besides,” he muttered, brushing his thumb along her cheek, “I’d rather you remembered the next time ya crawl into me bed.”

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Next time? He wanted a next time?

Before a response could leave her lips, he gently pressed his to hers. Her eyes closed instantly. His mustache tickled her nose, drawing a soft laugh from her. His lips were warm and surprisingly gentle, and for a moment she forgot all about her pounding headache.

The kiss ended far too soon for her liking, but the throbbing of her head brought her back to her hungover reality.

He chuckled seeing a sweet blush tint her cheeks. The hand on her chin shifted down and cupped the bottom of the mug, bringing it to her lips for a sip.

“Next time, try not to get so bloody drunk, yeah?”

She giggled and nodded.