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cmk418So I thought I'd give y'all a look at what I've been bitching about working on the past month or so. It's the Departed fic from hell.
Title: Opportunities
Pairing: Costigan/Dignam
Word Count: 2196
Rating: R (for language, sexual content)
Warnings: A bit of slash, rapid POV changes
Disclaimer: These characters and the Oscar for Best Screenplay belong to William Monahan (and a whole lot of other folks)
A/N: Many, many thanks to my beta![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
history_gurl for her encouragement and guidance (especially that POV recommendation that just kicked everything into high gear).
After over a year of this shit, Billy had their rhythms down. Every time Dignam picked up the phone, he cringed, waiting for the onslaught of venom. It was prone to happen. That’s what made this so crazy. He felt like screaming at the world, giving back as good as he got. He couldn’t do that with Costello. He never knew where the old man’s tipping point would be and he liked his hands just fine attached to his body. Queenan never gave him anything to work with. Which left Dignam and a plethora of opportunities. Billy dialed the number and waited.
“What?” Dignam’s perpetually pissed-off voice came through load and clear.
Billy tensed up for a moment. Maybe this wasn’t the best of ideas. “I need to meet.”
“You actually got something, trainee? Or you just need a shoulder to cry on?”
“Fuck you.”
“Anytime, asshole. You need that shoulder Queenan will be back in an hour.”
Billy took a deep breath. He ought to be institutionalized for this. “Not Queenan. You.”
At the other end of the phone, Dignam sighed. Fucking trainee. Fucking beautiful trainee. “Where?” He wrote down the address Costigan gave him. Thirty minutes away. There went his afternoon.
Every instinct warned him against going. Could be the cop wannabe wanted to take his ass out. He pulled on his jacket over his holster. No need to advertise who he was, but there was no reason not to be prepared. As a cop, there was always the possibility that this day would be your last. Over the past few years with the Staties, he’d seen his fair share of fellow troopers buried. So it never hurt to err on the side of caution. And if Costigan so much as twitched...
Billy walked the perimeter of the church where he arranged to meet Dignam. He spotted an old woman sitting off to the side, fingers moving quickly over the beads of a rosary, mouthing words to prayers he no longer said. He moved past the altar, past the confessionals, and finally settled on an alcove in the back. There was a statue of the Madonna and Child here, surrounded by candles.
Billy lit a candle for the man in the store whose fingers he had to break. He lit a candle for the woman that French had shot in the head. He lit a candle for the children who bought drugs from Costello’s men. All victims of crimes he had witnessed or helped commit.
He wondered if, somewhere, someone was lighting a candle for him. It wouldn’t matter. He was destined for hell, if not for what he’d done, then for what he’d seen and hadn’t done anything about. He could tell himself every day that it was part of the job, that eventually they’d get Costello and all this would be worth it, but for now, it was just killing him.
Forget the investigation, Dignam was going to strangle the trainee. Little shit could have told him they were meeting in a church. Who the fuck knows the street addresses of churches anyway? Same assholes that quote Hawthorne, no doubt. Dignam didn’t like churches at all. People, even including himself, had a tendency to act out of character when they walked through those doors. It was like all their human urges – to curse, to raise their voices in anger, to check out the ass of a fellow parishioner – fled in order for them to appear something better than they were. It would be a wonder if the walls didn’t collapse around him and Costigan when they met.
There were half a dozen rat-infested motels in the area that rented by the hour, and yet the kid chose this place. Not that Dignam hadn’t dreamt about what he’d do with Costigan in a motel for an hour. It would always start in violence, a punch to the little hood’s jaw, sweeping Costigan’s knees out from under him, slamming the trainee’s head against a wall (or headboard), tying the younger man to the bedposts, then fucking Billy soundly. Those were the nights that Dignam woke up, cock in hand, stroking himself rapidly to climax.
Trouble was, or maybe the good thing was, that Dignam could never act on it. So he maintained his distance from Costigan, accompanying Queenan to the meets out of professional obligation. But once he was within spitting distance of the trainee, professionalism took a backseat to personal curiosity. He liked to see how quickly he could get a rise out of Costigan, pushing the trainee to the point of fighting. That way, for only a moment, the kid’s hands would be on him. And the tension could be relieved.
Now there was the thing with the phone calls. Costigan had started to call during Queenan’s lunch hour. The first two times Dignam dismissed it as a coincidence, but after that, it became a rather unsettling pattern. He found himself looking at the cell twenty times during that hour when he should have been doing other things, willing it to ring. And the days it didn’t, he was strangely disappointed. He found himself preparing things to say to Billy, subtle jabs, things the kid would appreciate, and became even more impressed when the trainee fired back a quick response. Dignam didn’t know what the hell it meant, but it led to this meet. Just the two of them. In a goddamn church. Dignam sighed and got out of the car.
Billy lit one last candle, for his mother. He said half a prayer in hopes that she’d forgive him. Then he heard the sound of footsteps. Dignam.
Billy, sensing the other man behind him, didn’t turn around. “I’m not carrying,” he whispered.
Dignam knew that to be the case. To be caught with a weapon was a stupid move and the trainee wasn’t stupid. Not at all. Still, Dignam wasn’t about to waste the opportunity. He ran his hands lightly down Costigan’s body. Twelve years as a cop made this second nature.
Billy withstood it as easy as he had the half-dozen or so other times Dignam had frisked him. It was as clinical as a doctor’s exam and all Billy wanted was for Dignam to slow down, increase the pressure, tease – wait a minute, did the Staff Sergeant’s hands linger on his hips longer than they should? Do not sway, William, do not sway into that touch. At least not while the Virgin Mary is watching. Billy didn’t have to worry for long because Dignam pushed a hand against his shoulder, shoving him away.
“What the f-, what is it?” Dignam spat out. Great, now he was censoring himself.
“I just-“
“Trainee, I’m not going to wait all day for you to get to the god- point.” Jesus, he needed to get into the air again, where he could talk like a normal fucking person. “Believe it or not, I’ve got more to do than worry about your sorry ass. So if you don’t...”
“There are things, but tell me first, have you found the rat?”
“Not yet, but we’re working on it. Now tell me-“
“You and Queenan?”
“Among others. Let’s get back to-“
“Others? What others? Why are there others?” Billy walked it tiny circles, feeling entirely like a rat trapped in a cage.
“Jesus, Billy, calm the fuck down,” hissed Dignam under his breath.
Billy stopped suddenly, back to Dignam, rested his arm against the wall and stared at the floor. “Supposed to be just you and Queenan. Just you.” Billy’s voice dropped away. He was tired of fighting, tired of running, tired of maintaining the pretense. He thought, in being here, he would be able to find peace, just for a moment.
Dignam realized as he watched Costigan wilt in front of him, that he needed to say something to reassure the trainee. Or at least do something to bring Billy out of the fear that he seemed to be locked in. There was a job to be done, information to be obtained. The job was the reason that he laid a hand on Billy’s arm and said, almost gently, “Did you drag me way out here just so you could get yourself worked up?”
In all his years of observing people, Dignam could not have prepared himself for Costigan’s reaction. He expected Billy to tell him to “fuck off”, hit him, or in the worst case scenario, burst into tears. What he didn’t expect was laughter. His hand dropped off the trainee’s arm as Costigan dissolved into a fit of giggles. Stress manifested itself in strange ways, but-
“Yes.” This was followed by more laughter as Billy turned to face him. Dignam stared at Costigan in shock, remembering the original question.
Holy Mary, Mother of God, thought Dignam, as he watched the intensity return to Costigan’s eyes.
It was a game of chicken. Just a question of which one would flinch first. Dignam could not bring himself to look away, couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. In the back of his mind he knew this was a bad idea, that he really should get out of here before he fucked things up.
Billy stared back. There it was. Out in the open. He’s not leaving, not calling me a fucking queer. Just reading my eyes. I’m sure he sees more than the lady doctor ever could. The question is - what is he going to do about it?
In Dignam’s dreams, it had always begun in violence, so he was at a loss for what to do in this situation. The kid needed an outlet - that was certain, all that pent-up emotion was just looking for a way to get out. Shit.
Billy saw the uneasiness creep into Dignam’s eyes. Despite the candlelight playing off the walls, the two of them were hardly cut out for hearts and flowers. It was never about that. From the beginning, it was about challenge and reaction. Wasn’t that why he called Dignam in the first place?
Dignam broke Costigan’s gaze. His eyes settled on the statue of Mary holding the baby Jesus for a moment. Of course.
Dignam continued facing the statue. He kept his words deliberately soft. “Ever wonder how your mother-“
Before Dignam could get another word out, Billy slammed him up against a wall. His hand was pressed against Dignam’s throat. “Never say...“ It was then that he caught the triumphant smirk on the Staff Sergeant’s lips. Challenge and reaction. Billy knew he had been played. No point now but to surrender. And surrender he did, pressing his body firmly against Dignam’s, biting softly along the older man’s lips, giving a teasing glimpse at what could be.
Dignam grabbed Billy’s head and held it still as his mouth sought out the trainee’s with fierce urgency. This was an opportunity that he had to take. If one kiss was going to be career suicide, it was going to be worth it.
Lips moved against each other, tongues invaded, breaths commingled. Hands moved freely, twining in hair, moving down the body, pulling each other closer.
Dignam felt a slow steady vibration move through him and a low hum reached his ears. It wasn’t the beating of his heart, the coursing of blood through his veins or even a murmur of pleasure from the trainee. Aw, fuck.
Billy disentangled himself from Dignam, smiling. “It’s for you.”
“You think that, genius?” Dignam ran a hand through his hair and reached inside his jacket for the cell phone.
Dignam greeted the caller with a “What?” He glanced over at Costigan. The trainee leaned against the wall, staring out into the church. “Half an hour,” he responded to the voice on the other end, then clicked off the phone.
“Better yours than mine,” murmured Billy.
Dignam looked at him with concern. Really saw him. Saw what he and Queenan were making Billy do. It was almost worse than what Costello was doing, because SIU could pull him out of it at any time. Dignam closed his eyes, fighting against the guilt. “What is it about a church that brings up all this shit?”
“It’s just what they do.”
Dignam put a hand on Billy’s arm, touching him lightly. “Stick it out for a few more days, trainee. We’ll get you out.”
Billy looked into his eyes, a sad little smile playing on his lips. “Carry on, Staff Sergeant.” With that, he stepped out of the alcove and began walking toward the front of the church.
The trainee had seen the lie, accepted it as just words, nothing more. Dignam had said them often enough in his career with SIU, but this was the first time he actually wanted it to be possible. He turned toward the statue of the Virgin and lit a candle. Whether it was for himself or Billy, he wasn’t certain, but he wasn’t sure one little candle was gonna make a hell of a lot of difference where either of them were concerned.
Belatedly, Dignam realized that he never did get the information Billy had promised. He glanced around the church, but the trainee was long gone.
Title: Opportunities
Pairing: Costigan/Dignam
Word Count: 2196
Rating: R (for language, sexual content)
Warnings: A bit of slash, rapid POV changes
Disclaimer: These characters and the Oscar for Best Screenplay belong to William Monahan (and a whole lot of other folks)
A/N: Many, many thanks to my beta
history_gurl for her encouragement and guidance (especially that POV recommendation that just kicked everything into high gear).After over a year of this shit, Billy had their rhythms down. Every time Dignam picked up the phone, he cringed, waiting for the onslaught of venom. It was prone to happen. That’s what made this so crazy. He felt like screaming at the world, giving back as good as he got. He couldn’t do that with Costello. He never knew where the old man’s tipping point would be and he liked his hands just fine attached to his body. Queenan never gave him anything to work with. Which left Dignam and a plethora of opportunities. Billy dialed the number and waited.
“What?” Dignam’s perpetually pissed-off voice came through load and clear.
Billy tensed up for a moment. Maybe this wasn’t the best of ideas. “I need to meet.”
“You actually got something, trainee? Or you just need a shoulder to cry on?”
“Fuck you.”
“Anytime, asshole. You need that shoulder Queenan will be back in an hour.”
Billy took a deep breath. He ought to be institutionalized for this. “Not Queenan. You.”
At the other end of the phone, Dignam sighed. Fucking trainee. Fucking beautiful trainee. “Where?” He wrote down the address Costigan gave him. Thirty minutes away. There went his afternoon.
Every instinct warned him against going. Could be the cop wannabe wanted to take his ass out. He pulled on his jacket over his holster. No need to advertise who he was, but there was no reason not to be prepared. As a cop, there was always the possibility that this day would be your last. Over the past few years with the Staties, he’d seen his fair share of fellow troopers buried. So it never hurt to err on the side of caution. And if Costigan so much as twitched...
Billy walked the perimeter of the church where he arranged to meet Dignam. He spotted an old woman sitting off to the side, fingers moving quickly over the beads of a rosary, mouthing words to prayers he no longer said. He moved past the altar, past the confessionals, and finally settled on an alcove in the back. There was a statue of the Madonna and Child here, surrounded by candles.
Billy lit a candle for the man in the store whose fingers he had to break. He lit a candle for the woman that French had shot in the head. He lit a candle for the children who bought drugs from Costello’s men. All victims of crimes he had witnessed or helped commit.
He wondered if, somewhere, someone was lighting a candle for him. It wouldn’t matter. He was destined for hell, if not for what he’d done, then for what he’d seen and hadn’t done anything about. He could tell himself every day that it was part of the job, that eventually they’d get Costello and all this would be worth it, but for now, it was just killing him.
Forget the investigation, Dignam was going to strangle the trainee. Little shit could have told him they were meeting in a church. Who the fuck knows the street addresses of churches anyway? Same assholes that quote Hawthorne, no doubt. Dignam didn’t like churches at all. People, even including himself, had a tendency to act out of character when they walked through those doors. It was like all their human urges – to curse, to raise their voices in anger, to check out the ass of a fellow parishioner – fled in order for them to appear something better than they were. It would be a wonder if the walls didn’t collapse around him and Costigan when they met.
There were half a dozen rat-infested motels in the area that rented by the hour, and yet the kid chose this place. Not that Dignam hadn’t dreamt about what he’d do with Costigan in a motel for an hour. It would always start in violence, a punch to the little hood’s jaw, sweeping Costigan’s knees out from under him, slamming the trainee’s head against a wall (or headboard), tying the younger man to the bedposts, then fucking Billy soundly. Those were the nights that Dignam woke up, cock in hand, stroking himself rapidly to climax.
Trouble was, or maybe the good thing was, that Dignam could never act on it. So he maintained his distance from Costigan, accompanying Queenan to the meets out of professional obligation. But once he was within spitting distance of the trainee, professionalism took a backseat to personal curiosity. He liked to see how quickly he could get a rise out of Costigan, pushing the trainee to the point of fighting. That way, for only a moment, the kid’s hands would be on him. And the tension could be relieved.
Now there was the thing with the phone calls. Costigan had started to call during Queenan’s lunch hour. The first two times Dignam dismissed it as a coincidence, but after that, it became a rather unsettling pattern. He found himself looking at the cell twenty times during that hour when he should have been doing other things, willing it to ring. And the days it didn’t, he was strangely disappointed. He found himself preparing things to say to Billy, subtle jabs, things the kid would appreciate, and became even more impressed when the trainee fired back a quick response. Dignam didn’t know what the hell it meant, but it led to this meet. Just the two of them. In a goddamn church. Dignam sighed and got out of the car.
Billy lit one last candle, for his mother. He said half a prayer in hopes that she’d forgive him. Then he heard the sound of footsteps. Dignam.
Billy, sensing the other man behind him, didn’t turn around. “I’m not carrying,” he whispered.
Dignam knew that to be the case. To be caught with a weapon was a stupid move and the trainee wasn’t stupid. Not at all. Still, Dignam wasn’t about to waste the opportunity. He ran his hands lightly down Costigan’s body. Twelve years as a cop made this second nature.
Billy withstood it as easy as he had the half-dozen or so other times Dignam had frisked him. It was as clinical as a doctor’s exam and all Billy wanted was for Dignam to slow down, increase the pressure, tease – wait a minute, did the Staff Sergeant’s hands linger on his hips longer than they should? Do not sway, William, do not sway into that touch. At least not while the Virgin Mary is watching. Billy didn’t have to worry for long because Dignam pushed a hand against his shoulder, shoving him away.
“What the f-, what is it?” Dignam spat out. Great, now he was censoring himself.
“I just-“
“Trainee, I’m not going to wait all day for you to get to the god- point.” Jesus, he needed to get into the air again, where he could talk like a normal fucking person. “Believe it or not, I’ve got more to do than worry about your sorry ass. So if you don’t...”
“There are things, but tell me first, have you found the rat?”
“Not yet, but we’re working on it. Now tell me-“
“You and Queenan?”
“Among others. Let’s get back to-“
“Others? What others? Why are there others?” Billy walked it tiny circles, feeling entirely like a rat trapped in a cage.
“Jesus, Billy, calm the fuck down,” hissed Dignam under his breath.
Billy stopped suddenly, back to Dignam, rested his arm against the wall and stared at the floor. “Supposed to be just you and Queenan. Just you.” Billy’s voice dropped away. He was tired of fighting, tired of running, tired of maintaining the pretense. He thought, in being here, he would be able to find peace, just for a moment.
Dignam realized as he watched Costigan wilt in front of him, that he needed to say something to reassure the trainee. Or at least do something to bring Billy out of the fear that he seemed to be locked in. There was a job to be done, information to be obtained. The job was the reason that he laid a hand on Billy’s arm and said, almost gently, “Did you drag me way out here just so you could get yourself worked up?”
In all his years of observing people, Dignam could not have prepared himself for Costigan’s reaction. He expected Billy to tell him to “fuck off”, hit him, or in the worst case scenario, burst into tears. What he didn’t expect was laughter. His hand dropped off the trainee’s arm as Costigan dissolved into a fit of giggles. Stress manifested itself in strange ways, but-
“Yes.” This was followed by more laughter as Billy turned to face him. Dignam stared at Costigan in shock, remembering the original question.
Holy Mary, Mother of God, thought Dignam, as he watched the intensity return to Costigan’s eyes.
It was a game of chicken. Just a question of which one would flinch first. Dignam could not bring himself to look away, couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. In the back of his mind he knew this was a bad idea, that he really should get out of here before he fucked things up.
Billy stared back. There it was. Out in the open. He’s not leaving, not calling me a fucking queer. Just reading my eyes. I’m sure he sees more than the lady doctor ever could. The question is - what is he going to do about it?
In Dignam’s dreams, it had always begun in violence, so he was at a loss for what to do in this situation. The kid needed an outlet - that was certain, all that pent-up emotion was just looking for a way to get out. Shit.
Billy saw the uneasiness creep into Dignam’s eyes. Despite the candlelight playing off the walls, the two of them were hardly cut out for hearts and flowers. It was never about that. From the beginning, it was about challenge and reaction. Wasn’t that why he called Dignam in the first place?
Dignam broke Costigan’s gaze. His eyes settled on the statue of Mary holding the baby Jesus for a moment. Of course.
Dignam continued facing the statue. He kept his words deliberately soft. “Ever wonder how your mother-“
Before Dignam could get another word out, Billy slammed him up against a wall. His hand was pressed against Dignam’s throat. “Never say...“ It was then that he caught the triumphant smirk on the Staff Sergeant’s lips. Challenge and reaction. Billy knew he had been played. No point now but to surrender. And surrender he did, pressing his body firmly against Dignam’s, biting softly along the older man’s lips, giving a teasing glimpse at what could be.
Dignam grabbed Billy’s head and held it still as his mouth sought out the trainee’s with fierce urgency. This was an opportunity that he had to take. If one kiss was going to be career suicide, it was going to be worth it.
Lips moved against each other, tongues invaded, breaths commingled. Hands moved freely, twining in hair, moving down the body, pulling each other closer.
Dignam felt a slow steady vibration move through him and a low hum reached his ears. It wasn’t the beating of his heart, the coursing of blood through his veins or even a murmur of pleasure from the trainee. Aw, fuck.
Billy disentangled himself from Dignam, smiling. “It’s for you.”
“You think that, genius?” Dignam ran a hand through his hair and reached inside his jacket for the cell phone.
Dignam greeted the caller with a “What?” He glanced over at Costigan. The trainee leaned against the wall, staring out into the church. “Half an hour,” he responded to the voice on the other end, then clicked off the phone.
“Better yours than mine,” murmured Billy.
Dignam looked at him with concern. Really saw him. Saw what he and Queenan were making Billy do. It was almost worse than what Costello was doing, because SIU could pull him out of it at any time. Dignam closed his eyes, fighting against the guilt. “What is it about a church that brings up all this shit?”
“It’s just what they do.”
Dignam put a hand on Billy’s arm, touching him lightly. “Stick it out for a few more days, trainee. We’ll get you out.”
Billy looked into his eyes, a sad little smile playing on his lips. “Carry on, Staff Sergeant.” With that, he stepped out of the alcove and began walking toward the front of the church.
The trainee had seen the lie, accepted it as just words, nothing more. Dignam had said them often enough in his career with SIU, but this was the first time he actually wanted it to be possible. He turned toward the statue of the Virgin and lit a candle. Whether it was for himself or Billy, he wasn’t certain, but he wasn’t sure one little candle was gonna make a hell of a lot of difference where either of them were concerned.
Belatedly, Dignam realized that he never did get the information Billy had promised. He glanced around the church, but the trainee was long gone.
