#thehulkling

Robbie grinned at his lover, pinning the quite obviously larger man to the sofa. “Well, I’d hate to make a gorgeous thing like you beg for sex.” Gabe had known by now (after he’d found an irresponsibly discarded condom between the cushions) that the couch was… a favorite place for sex and demanded his own seat that the pair wouldn’t ‘desecrate’. 

Billy didn’t mean to drop by so sudden. In fact, he wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing there, under the colorful sign he had first laid eyes on when Tommy had his hand on his elbow, pulling him along, but then again, he still wasn’t sure what obsessed him to come back for that tattoo, the one now covered up with a gauze and layers of ointment, either. All he really knew was that he was hping to see Robbie again. 

Third Prize (A shout out post on my blog)  goes to @the-hulking

Second Prize (A simple text post meme promo like this [x]) is awarded to @redstainedballerina

First Prize - (A more fancy 2 to 3 part promo graphic like this [x]) goes to @clxntonbartxn 

“Again!” 

 Words echoed off the walls of the training room, and yet Billy barely heard them over the loud gasps escaping his parted lips. His back ached, his side felt bruised, and there was a certain gut-wrenched weight settling in. Or maybe taht was just his twin pinning him to the ground. 

 “G-get off, you smug ass,” he muttered under his breath, seeing the brilliant green eyes smirking back at him as Tommy pushed off of him and offered him a hand to help stand up. His twin was, as always, way too fast. 

“Come on, we have been through this one, Billy. Just dodge my low attack and block my sword to your left, it’s simple...!”

 “You are being way too cocky about this,” Billy replied fast just as their teacher, namely their uncle Pietro, tapped his foot impatiently. He was an older version of Tommy himself and Billy had decided years ago that odds were always going to be staked against him in the training room. So, he jumped to his feet, shook off the discomfort, and picked up his training sword - a wooden stick, really, but it still hurt when it hit. 

 He hated training like this, when everything was depending on precision and nothing on instinct. He always wished he could be more like his twin, able to react accordingly and swiftly, but what he usually did was wobble and somehow pull through on sheer luck, almost magically as some said. So, his mood was not at it’s highest at the moment. 

 At least, not until he saw a familiar blonde head peak through the door and his lips immediately split in a relieved smile. The cavalry was there to rescue him. 

Robbie and Teddy had noticed that there was someone new in the shop adjacent to theirs, as evidenced by the truck behind the shops to give access to the loft on top and the fact that a couple hours ago there was a truck where the man was moving in piles of flowers. 

Robbie and Teddy were in the middle of some... intimate time in their tattoo and piercing parlor, with music blaring to cover up the sound of the pair (mostly Teddy) until he heard a knock at the door adjoining the shops and with no small amount of irritation from both parties, Robbie finished himself off quickly and got dressed, though his messy hair and inside-out shirt would probably give the owner of the new shop some ideas.

 Wandering into the small tattoo and piercing shop on the corner of 65th and West was definitely not how Billy had expected to spend his day. He felt the shift of air as the doors opened, the scent of ink and disinfectant and something intoxicatingly inviting hit his nose, and his heart hammered in his chest. Tommy grinned at him as he stepped forward first.

 It was one of the last days of Tommy visit in New York before he went back to west coast for the new job, one he would definitely quit in a few months too, and there was something special about this day. Their birthday was recently and when Billy suggested they should get their gift together, which made his twin instantly lit up and drag him along someplace unknown. But seeing what he had in mind, Billy suddenly wasn’t all that sure his suggestion was a good idea. Especially when the sight of inked skin met his eyes, hung up in picture frames and displayed proudly. 

The second the gunshot rang through Robbie’s ears, the van swerved and crashed, a neat bullethole in the passenger side window. 

Robbie dropped the gun, dizzy, nauseated, disgusted with himself. He didn’t know what to do. Except...

Robbie drove to Dr. DaCosta’s. Told her he’d be out of town for a while, tearfully left Gabe there with his favorite toys--only the Captain America ones were left. He even abandoned his Spider-Man action figures, his most prized possessions. And then he waited. 

Robbie spent the next day getting ready for a life sentence or a death penalty. Wrote Gabe an email telling him how much he loved him, hid all of Alberto’s clothes and memorabilia, left the gun in obvious gang territory, but he bought it with a license, it’d be no use. He wished he’d make it to eighteen so he could make his own will, but the scribbled out “call a Catholic priest for last rites” and “cremate me” he wrote in sharpie on his right bicep would hopefully convey the message. And then they came. 

He was cuffed and taken into a shuttle, where he was again administered the same tests, but between his anger and anxiety, something went off within him. He didn’t know what, but he saw fire on any flammable surfaces, including his clothes.