Friends, can I get a roll call of writers and artists in the Bobby Squared fandom? Those who have, or would like to, or who would be willing to contribute art, fic, etc to the fandom?
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A Different Fucking Morality (Part 10) - Fucked Up
Pairing: Danny Devine/Francis Begbie (Dead Fish - Trainspotting)
A Different Fucking Morality āverse
Rated R, for language, gore, violence, drug abuse, Begbie, Danny, more language. Triggers for violence, drugs, and um... abuse, maybe? I guess just to be safe.
Another chapter appears on your dash! What will you do?!
Also... A wild Belle appears! Woops! Sorry, not sorry!!
This got way longer than expected and actually is only aobut half of what was planned for this part, soooo... Iāll be pushing everything back a chapter. Huzzah?
Previous Part
ā-
When Danny awoke again, Begbie was gone. A glance at the bedside clock told him it was 10:00 in the morning. It had been several hours sinceā¦. A heavy sigh escaped him. Since they had fucked. Since they had looked into each otherās eyes and come. Since, and Danny winced to think of it, but it was what it was: since they had made love. It seemed perverse to think of anything between himself and the raging psychopath as loving, but that was the best fucking way Danny knew to describe it. For all their fucked up months together, all the rage and fury, all the shouting and violence, he and Franco had, for the first time this morning, made love.
Danny had quickly fallen back asleep, exhausted for having spent much of the night awake, fretting and thinking. He had fallen back on his pillows and closed his eyes, warm from his head to the tips of his toes, and oblivious to whatever Franco would do. Now, awake and alone in this sacred spot, Danny felt cold and very alone.
Dread filled him as he looked around. All of Begbieās clothes were gone. There was no sign that the man had ever been there. Except for the ring on Dannyās fourth finger. Exceptā¦. The door of his bedroom was ajar and light flooded through it from the large windows in the living room. Dannyās eyes narrowed as he watched shadows play across the door frame. Was someone moving around in the other room? Or was it only the shadows of clouds passing?
A cough came from the other room, which immediately answered Dannyās pondering. It was a short, abrupt sound, like someone clearing their throat. Relief flooded Danny, only partially washing away the dread that permeated his mind. At least Franco was still here. He had distanced himself, but only as far as the next room.
Danny got up and stretched, feeling the ache of muscles that he hadnāt felt in weeks. It felt fucking amazing and he shivered as the dull pain throbbed through his thighs and his calves and his lower back. How he had fucking missed waking up to feel the aftermath of a night of being vigorously fucked.
Heading into the bathroom off his suite, he shut the door, leaving it open just a crack. A closed door meant a closed invitation and Danny wanted to leave it open on the off chance Begbie heard him and decided to join. He attended to the necessaries first, before running the shower and jumping in. The water was frigidly cold against his aching muscles and heated skin. He adjusted the temperature slightly, but only enough to bring the water to just below room temperature. He wanted to cool off. He felt feverish, though it was probably only excitement and nerves.
Begbie did not join him, so he made it a quick shower, scrubbing himself clean all over and shampooing his hair. He didnāt want to get out to find Begbie had already left, scared off by the sounds of Dannyās wakefulness. When he was done, he shut the water off and toweled dry before going back into the bedroom and throwing on a pair of pants and his emerald green suit trousers. More coughing from the living room, this time a loud hacking fit that lasted several moments. He left himself shirtless and hurried out into the other room.
There he was, perched on the edge of Dannyās sofa. There were a few bottles lying around the glass coffee table. At 10-fucking-a.m.? Danny thought, incredulous. Franco seemed unsteady on his seat. He was hunched over the table, weaving back and forth a bit. Then Danny heard it. A quiet, methodical clicking noise against the glass top. His heart sunk.
āFranco,ā he said, urgent to draw Begbieās attention away from what he was doing. All he got in reply was a ugly snorting noise as Begbie bent low over the table and sucked a line of the putrid drug into his nostril. He leaned back in the plushness of the sofa, seeming to melt into the leather as the cocaine went to his brain. Danny heard him groan quietly as he came around to the front of the sofa to see the damage.
āFucking Christ!ā he exclaimed. There as a large packet of cocaine sitting on the table, along with several empty bottles of lager. How many had he had already? Eight? Nine? Danny shook his head. By the looks of it, that had not be the first line of coke to be taken in either. Begbieās nostrils and moustache were stained grey-ish with the white powder, and Danny himself could smell it on the air.
āWhat the fuck are you fuckinā doing, Frank?ā Danny shouted. He couldnāt help himself. This morning may have been the most important fucking moment of both of their fucking lives, and here was Begbie trying to drown it away in a sea of booze and cocaine.
āFUCK AFF, YA OUGLY CUNT,ā Begbie snapped. His eyes were closed, his head resting on the back of the sofa, but an expression of anger still passed over his face. Danny reached down, grabbing a number of the bottles off of the table and carrying them to the kitchen. When he returned, Franco was leaning forward again, his blade cutting another long line of powder to be inhaled.
āFRANCO, STOP!ā Dannyās voice was almost a scream now, his pitch higher than he liked. He ran forward, trying to reach for Begbieās arm to stop him before he could suck the vile shite into his body. He was too late. The line of coke disappeared through the straw in Begbieās hand. Nearly immediately, Begbieās chest was wracked with another violent fit of coughing. āFRANCO!ā He knelt beside the other man on the sofa, placing a hand on his back, trying to support the force of the hacking. Begbie shoved him off, and Danny was pushed to the floor. He cracked his elbow on the corner of the coffee table, but it didnāt matter. Begbie once again had his blade in his hand and was pouring more of the powder from the little plastic pouch.
āNO, FRANCO. STOP!ā Danny reached for the hand in which the blade rested, stupidly, not thinking about the consequences. His only thought was that Begbie was going to kill himself. Right here and right now, the man was self-destructing. And it was all Dannyās fault. He had brought Begbie to this point. With his selfishness last night, and his selfishness all those weeks ago, he had brought Begbie to the point of wanting to feel so numb it would stop his brain.
His hand went over Francoās on the hilt of the knife. Begbie jerked it away from him, dragging the sharp edge of the blade across the pads of Dannyās fingers. He gasped from the pain and looked down at his hand. The contaminated blade had left traces of the drug on him, and the cuts were deep. Already blood was dripping to the floor.
āFUCK!ā Danny shouted, leaping to his feet. Franco, too, was on his feet, holding the blade out in front of him like he expected an attack. His eyes were wild, large, and bloodshot. His nose....
āFranco, yer nose,ā Danny said, his tone just as critical, but his voice softer now. āYer fuckinā nose is bleeding.ā It wasnāt just Dannyās blood staining the carpet of his flat. A heavy stream jetted from Francoās left nostril, matting with the hair of his moustache before dripping over his mouth, his chin, and rolling down the jumper he wore. Begbie lifted the hand not brandishing the knife in front of him and wiped at his moustache, interrupting the flow for a second. He looked at his hand, his gaze unfocused. Then he looked back up at Danny and his face contorted in pure hatred and fury.
Begbie lunged at Danny. Danny, taken by surprise, tried to take a step back, but Begbie caught him. He was slammed up against the over-sized window and heard it creak under the strain. Franco had one sweating head around his throat, holding him in place. The other held his blade level with Dannyās eyes. For the first time since meeting the sociopath, Danny was truly terrified. The man had lost his mind. He clawed at Begbieās wrist and the hand on his neck, trying to catch his breath. Begbie was choking him. He couldnāt fucking breathe! His cut hand smeared his own blood over Francoās hand, mixing with the blood he had wiped from his nose. Blood was still pouring from the manās face. Danny felt dizzy, unsure it that was from the cocaine in his bloodstream from the cut on his hand or from the lack of oxygen.
āFranco,ā he gasped, struggling to pull in enough air to form words. āFranco, please.ā He tried to pull Begbieās hand away again, but the other man was much stronger than he. His plea only seemed to irritate Begbie further.
āSHUT YER FUCKING MOOTH, YA DISGOOSTIN FAGGOT SCUM!ā Begbie screamed. Spittle tinged with blood flew from his mouth, spraying Dannyās face. āAHāM GAUNNAE FUCKING KILL YA, DEVINE! AHāM NO GAUNNAE PLAY THIS FUCKING NAE MAIR!ā He brought the point of the knife very close to Dannyās face and Danny closed his eyes immediately. Not that it would fucking help, but at least he wouldnāt see it coming. āAHāM NO GAUNNAE BE YER FUCKING PLAYTHING NAE MAIR!ā
Danny tried shaking his head, tried to speak up, but Begbieās hand only tightened about his throat, cutting off his air supply completely. He choked, dragging his nails across Begbieās skin to get him to release him. He was going to die. Heād taken it too fucking far this time, and he was going to fucking die. The man he loved, the fucking psycho lunatic that he had fallen completely in love with, was going to murder him.
āYOU FUCKING DAED THIS TO US!ā Begbie was screaming. āYOU FUCKING MADE US THIS WAY!ā
Maybe Danny fucking deserved it, he thought. Maybe it was fair fucking payment for the hell heād put the other man through. Maybe, but no. NO! He wasnāt innocent, but he hadnāt fucking forced Begbie to do a thing. Everything, well, almost everything, the other man had done had been his own fucking choice. Danny didnāt fucking deserve to be fucking stuck with a knife like a pig. His eyes flew open, ready to make his last stand.
He never got that far. There was a gurgling noise from Begbie as white foam began pouring from his mouth. His eyes went unfocused, unseeing and his whole frame went rigid. In the long moment before Begbie collapsed, Danny wondered if the man was rabid. Then Franco fell backwards, his head smashing into the glass coffee table. The glass shattered, sending shards everywhere. Begbie was convulsing violent amidst the broken glass. The shards ripped through his jumper and through his skin, more blood pouring from his body.
āFUCK!ā Danny exclaimed, his voice hoarse from his recent strangulation. He rushed for his mobile on the bedside table and ran back to collapse at Begbieās side. The foamy saliva trickled down the side of Begbieās mouth, stained pink with blood. He made an awful choking noise as if the foam was filling his air ways. His eyes were rolled back in his head and all Danny could see were the whites of his eyes. His whole body was rigid, bucking and twitching obscenely.
Danny tried to prop the man up on his side to keep him from aspirating. He didnāt know much about medical emergencies, but heād fucking learned that when he was a child. He flipped open his phone, his fingers shaking as he tried to dial. 9. 9. 9.
āPlease donāt fuckinā die on me,ā he pleaded desperately just before the operator answered.
āHello, emergency service operator. What is the nature of your emergency?ā a woman asked.
āI need a fuckinā ambulance,ā Danny replied urgently. His hands were shaking, his head swimming. Then, without really thinking about his words, he added, āMy boyfriendās collapsed. I think heās fuckinā ODād.ā
---
Dannyās breaths were still coming fast as he sat in the waiting room of the hospital for news on Franco. He had been sent into an exam room shortly after they had taken Begbie back. They had asked him what seemed like a thousand questions. Who was he? What was his relation to Begbie? What substances had he used and how much? Danny had told him all that he could. His head was spinning and his heart racing. He felt ill. His throat ached and his hand was killing him.
He told them, not in great detail, what had happened. Told them about the cut on his hand with a contaminated blade. He told them that Begbie had gone insane, tried to strangle him, before collapsing. A nurse looked at his hand, Ā and they cleaned it, stitched it up, and sent him back into the waiting room with a heavy bandage wrapped around it.
It felt like hours before they came out to talk to him again. It was a woman, a young doctor. Danny couldnāt help but notice that she was very pretty, her long auburn hair swept into a loose ponytail and a round-cheeked youthful face. And she looked very kind. She offered him a small smile as she approached. That had to be a good sign, Danny thought, his mind spinning less now that the adrenaline and whatever cocaine had gotten into his system had begun to wear off. She held out her hand to him, that little smile still in place.
āMr. Devine?ā she asked. Danny could only manage a frantic nod. His throat felt tight, like he couldnāt speak even if he tried. āIām Dr. French,ā she said shaking his hand as he extended it slowly. āIām the overseeing physician for Mr. Begbie.ā Danny nodded again, wishing she would just fucking get to the point. āFirst, let me just say that your boyfriend is going to be okay.ā Danny balked at the word āboyfriendā. Franco would kill him if he knew he had let that little bit slip out, even if it had been in the panic of calling a paramedic.
āHeās not⦠not my fuckinā boyfriend,ā he said, correcting her automatically. āHeās justā¦.ā He trailed off, unsure what to say or call their relationship. He had told the paramedics when they first arrived that he was Begbieās boyfriend. He had told the nurses who had asked him all those questions when they arrived so, too. For some reason, now that the excitement had died down, it felt wrong to say it when he knew Begbie would be furious. āHeās just fuckinā Begbie,ā he finished, lamely.
Dr. Frenchās smile turned into one of sympathy, like she somehow knew what was going through his mind. How could she fucking know, the fucking bint? How could anybody fucking know? She reached out and rested a gentle hand on his shoulder, a gesture no doubt meant to reassure him. He shrugged her off.
āDonāt fuckinā touch me,ā he snapped, without really thinking. Fucking Christ, he was turning into Begbie. The pretty doctor withdrew her hand, brow furrowed slightly.
āIām sorry,ā she told him, and her tone felt honest to Danny. He immediately regretted snapping at her. āI know this is hard. Your⦠Um, Mr. Begbie is going to have a hard recovery ahead of him. He had a severe overdose of cocaine, which was exacerbated by the amount of alcohol he had also consumed.ā Danny nodded, looking down at his shoes.
āBut heāll be okay?ā he asked. He looked up at her, searching her face for the truth. She gave him a smile and a nod.
āYes. He will be okay. Eventually.ā She motioned for him to follow her and he did. āHe is going to need to stop using, though, and that is going to be the hardest part. For both of you. He is going to need your help, Iām afraid. And detox is never easy for those closest to the victim.ā She led him through several sets of double doors and down a long hallway. āHe is stable now, but he had complete grand mal seizure, the collapse you witnessed in your flat. When the paramedics brought him in, he was severely tachycardic. The strain on his heart was very great, and he did require electrical defibrillation to prevent cardiac arrest.ā They passed under a sign for the ICU and came to a smaller door that Danny could tell led into an patient room. Dr. French turned to face him, her expression reassuring. āHe also sustained a concussion from the fall as well as many minor to moderate lacerations from the broken glass.ā Danny took a deep breath to steady himself and reached for the door handle. The doctor reached out to stay his hand.
āHeās not awake yet, and you need to be ready for the state he is in. Heās got IV catheters hooked up to medications and fluids, a breathing tube, a pacemaker in case we need to regulate his heartbeat again, monitoring equipment. We had to stitch him up in several places and weāve placed a bandage over the wound on his head. Just be ready. I know itās not often an easy sight to see.ā She released his hand and Danny opened the door and stepped into the room.
The room was painted an awful salmon pink color, with floral curtains over the window. In the center was a single bed and around the edges of the room were chairs, a desk, a chest of drawers, and a television. Dannyās gaze though focused only on the man in the bed.
Several machines were beeping loudly, blinking at him. The doctor followed him in and went over to the machines to check the readings. A nurse came in as well to change out Begbieās IV bags. Danny just stood there, dumbfounded.
All manner of tubes and wires seemed to be attached to his lover. His mouth was gaping, the breathing tube the doctor had mentioned running to the oxygen machine whirring beside him. It was so wrong. He looked so fucking peaceful and so⦠wrong. Danny wanted to get closer, to touch the other man to make sure that he was real, but he couldnāt move. Dr. French seemed to notice his distress.
āHe should be waking up soon,ā she said, coming back over to stand beside him. āAs soon as we know he can breath on his own, we can take the endotracheal tube out. We have him on medications to keep him stable while he detoxes. Unregulated withdrawal would be a stress to his system that his heart canāt handle right now.ā Danny snapped his head around to look at her, his eyes narrowed.
āYeāre detoxing him now? Here?!ā he asked. What a fucking stupid idea. As if the man wasnāt going to angry as it was, and Danny was supposed to fucking tell him that he had to go off the ching. For fuckās sake!
āWe donāt have a choice, Mr. Devine. This is what we need to do.ā She motioned for him to step closer to the bed and he did, but only a few feet. āHe will be sedated as well, to keep him calm--ā
āFuckinā calm-ER,ā Danny muttered. She smiled.
āCalm-er,ā she agreed. āWe need to reduce the stress to him when he wakes up, whatever you can do to help with that.ā I can fucking leave, Danny thought bitterly. Heās not going to want to see me of all fucking people. He didnāt reply out loud, though, only nodded.
āAre you okay?ā she asked next. He wasnāt sure if she was inquiring about his physical well being or his mental. Danny shrugged. What fucking business was it of hers? He wasnāt her fucking patient.
āJust a bit fuckinā banged up is all,ā was all he said. His gaze was drawn back to the bed as Begbie began to stir. Fucking fantastic. The nurse who had changed his IV came to the side of the bed and glanced at the doctor. Dr. French nodded to her and the nurse placed a hand on Begbieās shoulder.
āDonāt fuckinā touch him,ā Danny snapped, rushing to the opposite side of the bed.
āMr. Devine!ā Dr. French exclaimed. The nurse withdrew her hand as if she had been burned. Danny ignored the pretty woman behind him, glaring at the nurse.
āIf you want him to wake up calmly, donāt fuckinā touch him,ā he explained. Behind him, he heard Dr. French give a noise of understanding. The machines were beginning to beep faster now. Begbieās heart rate was increasing.
āMr. Begbie,ā the nurse said softly. Begbieās head turned slightly in her direction. Danny could see his eyes beginning to move under his closed lids. āMr. Begbie. Youāre in hospital and you have a breathing tube in. You need to remain calm, and we can remove the tube as soon as you are awake enough to breath on your own.ā Begbieās eyes snapped open and they were wide with alarm. He tried to sit up, but couldnāt quite find the strength yet. The muscles in his neck were hard as iron, bulging under his skin. āMr. Begbie, please remain calm,ā the nurse said again. She placed a hand on the manās chest to hold him down.
āNO!ā Danny shouted. She pushed the nurse back from across the bed, throwing her arm off the other man before someone got hurt. Then he turned to Begbie.
āFranco?ā he said, just loudly enough for Begbieās drug-addled mind to hear him. āFranco, calm the fuck down. Yeāre in hospital, okay? You fuckinā overdosed, you stupid fuckinā loser. They can take the fuckinā tube out of your throat in a minute, just fuckinā calm down.ā Begbie turned his head to look at Danny, his eyes narrowed with fury. His mouth moved like he was trying to say something, but he couldnāt speak with the tube in.
āI know Iām the last fucker you wanna fuckinā see, Franco. Believe me. But⦠you almost fuckinā died. And Iām not going fuckinā anywhere until I know yeāre fuckinā alright.ā He saw Francoās neck relax and saw him swallow once or twice. The nurse saw it too and she tentatively stepped forward, keeping a close eye on Danny.
āMr. Begbie, Iām going to take your breathing tube out now.ā She unhooked the tube from the strap holding it in place, moving slowly as if she expect something to jump up and bite her. Danny didnāt really blame her. āIf you could just cough for me, Mr. Begbie. And again. Good.ā And the tube was out.
Begbie licked his lips and swallowed a few more times. He motioned for the jug sitting on the dresser which had been filled with water. āGie us a fucking drink, ya cunt,ā he whispered, his voice hoarse and not his own. Danny hurried to the dresser and filled a small plastic cup with the cool water. He brought it back to the bed and Begbie took it in his left hand, wires and IVs trailed behind it. Begbie winced as he lifted the cup to his lips and Danny wondered if it was from the cuts caused by the glass table or aching from the seizure.
āSlow sips,ā the doctor warned, but Danny knew Begbie wouldnāt obey her. He chugged the water down and as he lowered the cup, he chucked it at Dannyās face. The flimsy plastic cup bounced harmlessly of of Dannyās forehead and Danny gaped at the man, shocked.
āGIT THE FUCK OOT AY MAH SIGHT, YA FUCKING BUFTIE!ā Begbie screamed at him. His voice was very hoarse and he couldnāt tell Begbie could get the volume that he really wanted. Danny took a step back, shocked. The nurse leapt away from the bed, startled by the sudden outburst. The doctor ran forward.
āIncreasing lorazepam dose to 3 milligrams per kilogram,ā she told the nurse. Begbie was reaching for Danny, trying to leap out of the bed. The wires and tubes tethering him to the bed were straining under the tension.
āYOU FUCKING DAED THIS TO US, YA FUCKING POOF. YA FUCKING DISGOOSTIN FAGGOT.ā Danny was frozen in place for a moment, his brain trying to catch up with everything that was going on. He felt fucking light-headed. He felt numb. And then his mind caught up and he felt fucking furious. He puffed himself up, larger than fucking life, and began to rip into the stupid man.
āI FUCKINā DID THIS, DID I?!ā he screamed. He took a step closer and shoved Begbie back into bed by a hand on his chest. āI FUCKINā DID THIS TO YOU?!ā He laughed and it sounded manic even to him. He was vaguely aware of the nurse pressing a red button to call for more help. āYOU LISTEN HERE, YA FUCKINā COCKSUCKINā FUCKINā LOSER WASTE OF FUCKINā AIR! NOBODY FUCKINā DID THIS TO YOU BUT YUR OWN FUCKINā SELF! DO YOU FUCKINā GOT THAT?ā The machines were beeping and sounding their alarms as Francoās heart rate rose higher and higher. āI TOLD YOU THIS WOULD FUCKINā HAPPEN. I TOLD YOU TO STOP SHOVING THAT SHITE UP YUR FUCKINā FACE. BUT YOU NEVER FUCKINā LISTEN, DO YA? FUCKINā NO! AND NOW LOOK WHERE YAāVE FUCKINā LANDED YOURSELF, HUH? IN THE FUCKINā INTENSIVE FUCKINā CARE UNIT, THATāS FUCKINā WHERE!ā
āMr. Devine, please!ā he felt a hand on his arm, trying to pull him away, but he yanked himself free.
āI TOLD YOU IT WOULD FUCKINā KILL YOU, DIDNāT I?! DIDNāT I FUCKINā SAY, FRANCO?ā He grabbed the front of the hospital gown Begbie wore and drew himself close enough so that their noses almost touched. The alarms on the monitors had stopped. The increased dose of sedative had finally kicked in and Begbie was lying back again, limp but still alert. Danny didnāt care. He had things he needed to fucking say, and he would fucking well say them. āYOU FUCKINā ALMOST DIED, FRANCO, YOU STUPID FUCKINā LOSER. YOU COULDāVE FUCKINā DIED BACK THERE IN MY FUCKINā FLAT. AND YOU KNOW FUCKINā WHAT?!ā Two very strong sets of hands gripped his arms and pulled him backwards, away from his lover. He was vaguely aware, through his fury, of Begbie shaking his head and trying to reach a hand out. Was he trying to stop them? Or was he only trying to finish the job he had started and strangle Danny for good and ever? Danny struggled against the hands holding him.
āIāM GLAD YOU FUCKINā LIVED, YOU GREAT FUCKINā COCKSUCKER OF A FAGGOT. IāM GLAD YOU FUCKINā DID, YA FUCKINā Ā LOSER. BECAUSE I FUCKINā LOVE YOU. I FUCKINā DO. AND IF THATāS FUCKINā WRONGā¦.ā He trailed off and stopped struggling as he was pulled out of the door of the room backwards. ā... then I donāt want to see your fuckinā face anymore,ā he finished, all the hot air gone out of him, but he knew Begbie couldnāt hear him anymore.
The security guards holding him threw him roughly into a chair in the hall and watched him closely. One of them kept a firm hand on his shoulder to keep him down, but it wouldnāt have mattered. Danny had no more left in him just now. He collapsed into the chair, his face in his hands. What had he fucking done? All he wanted to do was fucking help Franco recover. And instead he had set him off like a fucking firework. As fucking usual. They were both so volatile, both had tempers like bull fucking elephants. He really had to find a way to cap his fury when Begbie recovered. Maybe it would be best for him to just leave and never show his face to Francis Fucking Begbie ever again. That was probably the best bet. He made to stand up, but the guards shoved him back down in the chair.
āIām fuckinā leaving,ā he told them. āIām fuckinā done here.ā The two men looked at each other, skeptical. Danny tried again to get up and though the guard with the hand on him hesitated, he was met with no resistance. He took a step towards the exit just as the door to Francoās room opened and the pretty young doctor came out. She gave him a reprimanding look and stood directly in front of him. Danny was a short bloke, but this bird only came to his fuckinā shoulder. Still, she had an enormous presence and seemed to tower over him in her anger.
āThat was a stupid thing to do, sir,ā she told him, plainly. āDo you want your boyfriend to die? Because that is exactly what we are coming to here.ā Danny was taken aback and couldnāt think of a reply. Dr. French sighed and seemed to take pity on him. āLook. I can see that you care about Mr. Begbie. I can tell you are upset by all this, and whatever ridiculous mating display that was in there, I think you do want to be with him.ā Danny could only nod, feeling ashamed of his outburst. What the fuck? He screamed and shouted his head off for a living. He had never quite felt ashamed for it before.
āHeās very sedated now, but heās asking to see you,ā Dr. French told him. She looked wary. āI am willing to give you one more chance, but you need to try to keep him calm. His heart canāt take that strain right now, and if he goes into cardiac arrest, he may very well not survive. Do you understand that?ā Danny nodded again. He lowered his head and looked down at his feet, feeling like a schoolboy being told off by the headmistress. The doctor cleared her throat softly.
āGo on, then,ā she said, stepping aside to allow him access to the door. Danny looked up, a bit surprised by the forgiving nature of the woman. What a wonderful fucking human being, he thought as he walked to the door. He expected the security guards to follow him, but she held them back. So trustingā¦. Danny wasnāt sure if he even trusted himself right now, but here was this little brunette doctor essentially putting Francoās life in his hands.
He stepped into the room once more. The nurses were gone. The doctor and the guards were all gone. It was only him and Begbie now. Franco looked around slowly as he heard the door open and a profound expression of relief came over him. It was quickly washed away by one of anger, however, as Danny pulled a chair over to the side of the bed and threw himself into it. He tossed his feet onto the edge of the bed and lounged back, not taking his eyes off of the lunaticās face for a moment.
āFuck aff,ā was all Begbie said, but his words were slurred and his vision unfocused. The sedatives were bearing heavily down on him.
āNo,ā Danny replied simply. āYou wanted me here, so here I fuckinā am.ā He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. A large wad of cash was inside and he rifled through it, not really looking at it. It was a relaxing habit he had formed years ago, reassuring to know that whatever else was going bonkers in his life, he still had his money. He fiddled with the bills absently, still not looked away from Begbie. Begbieās eyes followed the movements of Dannyās fingers, drifting slowly closed until he was peering through small slits.
āTake a fuckinā rest, Frank,ā Danny offered, trying to sound nonchalant, but probably failing. āIāll still fuckinā be here when you wake up.ā Begbieās eyes popped open slightly as he tried to resist sleep. His mouth opened and he seemed like he was trying to say something.
āDonāt fuckinā worry about it,ā Danny said, curious but not enough to force the man to talk. Begbie gave a little shake of his head, as if trying to clear the fog of sedation from his mind.
āDin⦠dinnae fucking⦠tell anybody,ā Begbie murmured. Dannyās hand froze and he lowered the money to his lap. He frowned. Would the man ever be okay with the world, he wondered. The whole world wasnāt as behind the fucking times as Franco Begbie. But still.... Franco still seemed to want to trust him, and Danny didnāt want to break that.
āI wonāt say a fuckinā word,ā he promised, knowing he had already done so. He would have to make sure those fucking nurses wouldnāt give it away. He would have to talk to that fucking pretty bird of a doctor out there. But for now, his assurance was enough. āI wonāt tell a fuckinā soul.ā
He watched as Begbie drifted off to sleep and then glanced at the clock. 3:00 pm. Christ, what a fucking day. He reached for the remote on the bedside table and switched on the telly. He might as well settle in. It was going to a be long fucking night.
This is turning into one of the freaking longest chapters ever, and I havenāt gotten to where the chapter was originally going. These boys really want this story to be told their way.
So... there may just be one extra chapter added to the line-up for ADFM, because I dunno if I want to force the original plan for this chapter in here at this point. I think Iāll shift everything back a chapter.
So hey, one more for all of you to read, I guess. xD
Would it be to much of a spoiler to ask what was going on in Begbie's head when Danny told him he wasn't a proof or a buftie? Was he too far gone to have a mental/emotional reaction to "I've got you love"?
He couldnāt stop the shaking of every muscle of his body. It felt good, after weeks, to be inside Devine again. It felt fucking incredible, in fact. But Devine hadnāt let him turn him over. He had made him fuck him face-to-face like⦠like fucking lovers. Like fucking poofs. Begbieās stomach churned at the thought.
āFuckinā relax,ā Devine murmured to him. He was gripping the back of Begbieās neck and pulling his face closer to his own. Begbie resisted the pull, his hips still pushing frantically against Dannyās. He felt trapped between his great need to fuck Devine and his great need to escape. Franco lifted his head, his hair falling across his face and into his eyes. He looked at Danny through the dark locks of his hair. Devineās face was twisting in pleasure and pain. His expression pulled at something deep in Begbieās groin. It was an expression he had never seen on the cuntās face before Never seen on any cuntās face. He all at once looked more at peace and more conflicted than Franco had ever seen him.
āFuckinā relax, Franco,ā Devine said again, his voice barely a whisper now between groans. Devine tilted his head enough to bring their lips together briefly. It didnāt last long enough for Begbie. His eyes fluttered closed until he felt Devine pull away. He tried to catch Devineās lower lip between his teeth, trying to keep him from pulling his mouth away, but it was too late. āIāve got you.ā
Iāve got you. The words echoed in his mind over and over again. Last night had been the first time he had felt like he could trust Devine. In fact, it had been the first time in a lifetime that heād felt like he could fucking trust any cunt. Devine asked him for more trust and Begbie⦠Begbie wanted to give it to him, but⦠he couldnāt fucking let himself. Could he? Devine wasnāt to be trusted.
Begbie shifted his knees backwards, pulling Devineās hips further forward on the bed so that he could lie back. All the while, he continued to relentlessly fuck Devine. In. Out. In. Out. Over and over. He could fucking do this. He could fuck Devine senseless no matter how the dippet cunt wanted to be fucked.
His head was down again, looking down at where their hips joined, but not really seeing. He couldnāt look Devine in the face again. He⦠he had to stop seeing this fucking wee pooftah. After this, he was done. Fucking done. He couldnāt fucking do this anymore. It was disgusting. It was fucking unnatural. But⦠fuck! It felt so fucking good. His hands were still gripping Devineās hips, gripping so hard, holding on for dear life for fear that if he let go his need to flee may overcome him. He hesitated, his fingers digging into Devineās skin to try and stop the shaking. His thrusting slowed and he let out a low growl of determination.
āFrancoā¦.ā Danny grunted. Begbie looked up at the sound of his name. He saw Danny reach a hand out to brush the hair from Begbieās eyes, felt him run his fingers through the partially oiled mass of black. They made eye contact and Begbie saw an expression on Danny that he couldnāt comprehend. He had seen similar looks before, years ago. June had looked at him like that, once upon a time. Begbie froze, his whole body trembling. What was it that he saw in Devineās gaze that made him want to live for tomorrow, when he was already scheming for the best way to do himself in. His eyes searched Dannyās desperately, trying to understand.
āIāve got you, love,ā Danny said. Love? Was that fucking it, then? Did Devine love him? āIāve fuckinā got you,ā the cunt was saying again. Dannyās eye bore into him, and he wished the gadge would look the fuck away. It was throwing him off. He wanted to reach up to turn Dannyās face into the pillow. He wanted to fuck Devine without having to look at him. But that expression on his face. He stared right back into Dannyās eyes, his mind failing to do anything except continue the rhythm of his hips. Finally, he moved, bending down to bring their mouths together again and it was furious and hot. Begbie relaxed to feel the heat of Devineās gazed off of him for a moment and as he relaxed, he came with a loud groan.
"Iāve got you,ā Devine was still saying, his voice barely audible over the sounds of their heavy breathing, as if he knew that Begbie really needed to hear it. He was already regretting everything they had just done, though he didnāt want to regret it. Rage and shame and disgust were building inside of him like a tidal wave, for he knew deep down that this was more than just fucking. He wanted to rip himself apart. He wanted to terrorize the world and make it cease to exist. He wanted to hurt Devine, smash his wee fucking pus in until it wasnāt recognizable.Ā And when the rage subsided again, he needed to know that Devine would still be there when he came back down.
ā-
UGH THIS WAS REALLY DIFFICULT Iām not really sure why. I hope it turned out okayā¦. Iām probably being a perfectionist. Iāll have to come back and re-read it later. I hope this sort of answered your question, though?
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Hello! I just wanted to pop in and say how much I enjoyed reading "A Different Fucking Morality". Only discovered it a few nights ago, but it quickly became one of my all time favourites. Thank you so much for writing this gem of a series, I sincerely appreciate it. Much love!
I just saw this! Thank you so, so much for your kind words! I hope to get back to the story someday soon for some rewriting and to finish it! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Your message means the world to me!