𝙱𝙴𝙰𝚂𝚃.

ᅠ
⠀⠀
𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜. 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 .ᐣ

ᅠ

[ً @MORTlSUMBRA]

⠀heʹs ⠀a ⠀dog ⠀with ⠀a ⠀boneˏ ⠀and ⠀i ⠀𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 ⠀recommend ⠀you ⠀donʹt ⠀try ⠀and ⠀take ⠀it.

[𝙱𝙴𝙰𝚂𝚃. @haggardhound]

@notaherooi / giving me soft beastbutch when they're in the most fucked up part of town. ohh they make me ill

[𝙱𝙴𝙰𝚂𝚃. @haggardhound]

For several seconds, Beast could only stare at him, the explanation slowly working its way through the weeks of ridiculous assumptions he had apparently built in his own head. His ears felt hot. Worse, his face probably did too. He had spent weeks thinking about Butcher’s mysterious “boys,” wondering what they were like, whether they liked him, and whether Butcher ever talked about him to them. He had even bought gifts. Actual gifts, picked out with the sort of careful consideration he would have preferred to deny under oath.

They were sitting somewhere safe now, waiting for a family that, as it turned out, did not exist. Beast rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the pavement with an embarrassed little laugh that gradually grew into something more helpless. “Right,” he muttered. “Adults. Coworkers. Not your secret army of neglected children.” His mouth twisted as he shook his head. “Christ.” Then his eyes lifted again, catching the lingering amusement in Butcher’s expression. “I even bought them presents.” The confession came out with such quiet humiliation that he immediately laughed again, covering part of his face with one hand. “Forget I said that.” He was just beginning to form an apology when Butcher caught his shirt and pulled him down into the kiss.

Everything Beast had been about to say disappeared. The warmth hit first, blooming through his chest with almost embarrassing speed, soft and dizzying compared to the tension that had occupied him moments earlier. Butcher’s mouth was warm against his, familiar now in a way that still managed to surprise him every time, and Beast could taste the faint remnants of whatever the man had been drinking earlier, something bitter beneath the unmistakable taste that was simply Butcher. He liked it far more than he had any intention of admitting. The kiss was brief, but Butcher held him there for that extra heartbeat, and Beast felt the deliberate tenderness of it settle somewhere deep enough to make his chest ache pleasantly.

When they separated, Beast looked down at him for a moment, his expression softening into something almost unbearably fond. He wanted to say the words. They sat right there, close enough to his tongue, but he wasn't ready to give them shape yet. Instead, a broad smile slowly spread across his face. He slipped both hands around Butcher and lifted him cleanly off his feet, holding him there with an almost boyish grin while Butcher’s weight settled easily against him.

“I’m sorry,” Beast said, laughing quietly as he looked down at him. “Let me make it up to you.” His smile widened, eyes warm with lingering embarrassment and something gentler underneath it. “Hungry?”

[𝗕𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗬 𝗕𝗨𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗥 @notaherooi]

“ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴏʀ ꜰᴏᴜʀ? ” butcher repeated faintly. the sincerity of it nearly finished him off. his fingers tightened around beast’s arm as another laugh tore loose, leaving him bowed forward & fighting for breath.

“ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ꜰᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴ’ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ? ” he managed, looking up at the considerably larger man with one eye still watering. the offended confusion awaiting him threatened to set him off all over again, but butcher dragged in a ragged breath & forced himself upright. “ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀɪɴ’ᴛ ᴍʏ ᴋɪᴅꜱ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴀꜰᴛ ꜱᴏᴅ. ” the explanation arrived between the broken remnants of his laughter. butcher lifted the phone & jabbed a finger toward the offending title.

“ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏꜱ. ᴛʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ᴍᴇ ʟᴏᴛ.
ʙᴜɴᴄʜ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴜɴᴛꜱ ɪ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴡɪᴛʜ. ”

his mouth twitched as his attention returned to beast.

“ ᴛʜᴇʏ’ʀᴇ ɢʀᴏᴡɴ-ᴀʀꜱᴇ ᴀᴅᴜʟᴛꜱ. ᴍᴏꜱᴛʟʏ. ”

a dry huff slipped through billy’s nose. he shook his head, the old, sharp edge of his exasperation worn down to a blunt stub. beast still looked so aggrieved by the whole mess, that it jarred something loose inside butcher . . some rusted, long-unused gear grinding reluctantly into motion. beast had gone & built an entire family out of a single bloody group-chat title. then, the mad bastard decided those imaginary kids mattered, solely because he thought they mattered to butcher.

𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚓𝚘𝚔𝚎.

𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌.

𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 . .

uderneath the whole stupid mix-up lay something so painfully sincere it 𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 . . beast cared about what belonged to him, even when butcher hadn't given him a single damn reason to.
worse yet, he’d stood there & handed over a piece of raw, unguarded truth as if butcher could be trusted to hold it without crushing the bloody thing in his fist. any other day, that sort of naked openness would’ve earned a cruel remark or sent butcher cutting his losses for the nearest door. instead, something 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚢 light settled behind his ribs.

he 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 have a name for it.

he 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 particularly want one.

but the urge to give beast something in return struck before he could stamp it out.

“ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴ’ ’ᴇʟʟ, ꜱᴜɴꜱʜɪɴᴇ. ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜɪꜱ
ᴄᴀʀʀʏ-ᴏɴ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴀ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅʏ ɢʀᴏᴜᴘ ᴄʜᴀᴛ? ”

butcher didn’t give him the opportunity to answer. he snagged a fistful of beast’s hawaiian button-up & dragged him down. the kiss was brief, solid, & utterly deliberate. none of the usual provocation was in it, nor any attempt to test the limits of what beast would allow. butcher held him there for one silent second longer than necessary, permitting the gesture to say whatever he had neither the words nor the stomach to offer aloud. then he released him, the remnants of his earlier amusement still softening the hard line of his mouth.

“ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴ’ ᴇʟꜱᴇ. ”

[𝙱𝙴𝙰𝚂𝚃. @haggardhound]

Beast’s grin only widened at the continued threats, though something softer lingered behind it as he remembered the sound of Butcher’s laughter from moments earlier. It had been genuine, completely unguarded, and Beast found himself replaying it despite the weight of the man in his arms and the irritated muttering aimed directly at him. It had been music to his ears. If this ridiculous misunderstanding had been necessary to hear it, then maybe Beast could live with the embarrassment. “The Boys, huh?” he murmured, amusement creeping back into his voice. The name still sounded ridiculous coming from Butcher, though perhaps that was precisely why it suited them. Butcher working some perfectly ordinary job with ordinary coworkers had never seemed particularly believable anyway. Beast had heard enough scattered pieces over time to know that whatever Butcher did, it wasn't the sort that came with a respectable office and pension plan. Beast could have dug. He was good at digging. Usually, he did. People were puzzles, and he enjoyed finding the pieces they thought they had hidden. But he had never done that with Butcher. He trusted him, and that trust extended to whatever questionable collection of folks made up this group of his.

Butcher’s demand to be put down received no response whatsoever. Beast simply adjusted his grip, one arm secure beneath him while the other kept him comfortably against his chest, and continued walking down the pavement as though it the most natural thing in the world. “No,” he said simply, his tone far too cheerful for someone actively ignoring a direct order. “You said you were starving.” His eyes scanned the street ahead, searching for the nearest place that looked capable of serving food at this hour. In this part of town, however, the choices appeared to be narrowing rapidly toward either a diner that had probably failed its last three health inspections or a takeaway establishment with a sign missing several letters. Beast considered both with the grave seriousness of a man making an important tactical decision.

“We’ll find somewhere.” His gaze flicked toward a flickering neon sign farther down the street. “Though I should warn you, I think your options are currently between suspiciously cheap and actively concerning.” He glanced back down at Butcher, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Which, admittedly, sounds like you..”

He gave Butcher’s shoulder a fond squeeze when the subject of the presents resurfaced. “Some of the presents were 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 crayons.. with legos. So your imaginary children were going to be very well looked after.” He paused, pretending to consider the matter with exaggerated seriousness. “Although now that I know they're grown men, I suppose the crayons might be a bit inappropriate.” His grin turned mischievous as he looked down at Butcher. “Could always give them to you instead.” He let the suggestion hang for a beat before adding, with a deliberately innocent expression, “Though if we're comparing them to a football team, you should know football players usually have 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 than four players.”

The laughter that followed was quieter, but Beast could still feel the warmth of it lingering in his chest, particularly when he looked down and caught the expression on Butcher’s face.

[𝙱𝙴𝙰𝚂𝚃. @haggardhound]

The instant Butcher’s fingers found the sensitive space beneath his raised arm, Beast’s entire body betrayed him. A startled giggle escaped first, utterly undignified and completely at odds with the imposing figure he had been so smugly presenting a moment ago, before another burst of laughter followed and his raised arm jerked violently downward. “Oh, you asshole!” he managed between helpless laughs, twisting away as Butcher’s fingers continued their merciless assault. “That is e͟͟v͟͟i͟͟l͟͟! You’re cheating!” The Polaroid wobbled dangerously between his fingers, and for one terrifying second it nearly slipped from his grasp, forcing Beast to snatch it against his palm with a panicked little noise that only made him laugh harder.

Whatever dignity he had left disappeared entirely when his knees finally gave, Beast dropping toward the floor and scrambling backward until he could curl himself into a protective ball, both arms wrapping around the precious photograph and tucking it firmly against his chest. He was still laughing, breathless and helpless, shoulders shaking as he tried to shield the picture from Butcher while simultaneously attempting to escape the tickling fingers. “I'm keeping it! I need to add it to my collection!” he protested, barely coherent through his laughter as he curled tighter.

[𝙱𝙴𝙰𝚂𝚃. @haggardhound]

@notaherooi “Oh, 𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶. Is bellend supposed to be a new nickname? What even is that?

If Terror and Max don't count then we'll adopt. Seems only fair.”

[𝙱𝙴𝙰𝚂𝚃. @haggardhound]

@notaherooi 🙄😏

[𝙱𝙴𝙰𝚂𝚃. @haggardhound]

@notaherooi “First of all. Dogs count as kids. See me and Max? That's my son.

Our son. 🖕 Secondly, I don't even 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 what that is. Don't make words up for your convenience.”

[𝗕𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗬 𝗕𝗨𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗥 @notaherooi]

𝚓𝚞𝚍𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒’𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏𝚏 . .

𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗’ 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔. 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎. 𝚒 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚘.

[— Fʀᴇɴᴄʜɪᴇ | Pᴀʀᴏᴅʏ @TheFrenchmcn]

“You ask for a 𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚕𝚎, Butcher..

I give you a 𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚕𝚎.

Do not complain about the 𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚕.”

• Serge Emilien Les Saintes
• A.K.A Frenchie, The Frenchman
• The Boys | RP | MDNI

[𝙱𝙴𝙰𝚂𝚃. @haggardhound]

Whatever Beast had taking to suppress himself had not been an ordinary drug, and whatever had happened tonight had clearly disturbed that fragile balance. The dark network continued its slow crawl beneath his skin, almost imperceptibly now that his body had gone still. There was time.

Not much, perhaps, but enough.

[𝙱𝙴𝙰𝚂𝚃. @haggardhound]

The steam had already begun thinning after the water stopped, leaving the harsh overhead light glaring against the tile. He placed one hand behind him for balance and looked up at Butcher with a faintly irritated expression, as though his own body had committed some personal betrayal. “I’m fine.” The words came automatically, though they lacked their usual conviction. His eyes dropped toward the darkness beneath his skin. The discoloration had advanced only a little, creeping outward in thin, branching lines. It still resembled bruising at first glance, but the longer he looked, the less convincing that explanation became. There was something almost vascular about it, except the pattern did not follow his veins correctly. It seemed to spread around them instead, darkening the tissue in a slow, deliberate network.

When his eyes opened again, they were heavier. The bathroom seemed farther away than it had a moment before. Beast could hear Butcher speaking, asking questions, but the words began to lose their edges beneath the strange rushing in his ears. His hand moved instinctively toward the affected side before stopping halfway. There was a dull numbness spreading outward now, accompanied by a pressure that made breathing increasingly difficult. He tried to sit straighter. Tried to force himself through it. His body had carried him through worse. It would carry him through this too. That was the rule. That had always been the rule. Yet his muscles felt sluggish, his thoughts increasingly slow, and every attempt to take a full breath ended in a shallow, incomplete pull of air.

“Butcher,” he managed, the name escaping with none of the teasing ease it normally carried. He looked toward him, his expression briefly stripped of every defense. “I don’t...” The sentence broke apart when his lungs refused to cooperate. Beast swallowed and tried again, but his eyes fluttered. He became dimly aware of Butcher’s hand somewhere near his shoulder, of the familiar steadiness of that touch, and some stubborn part of him tried to reassure the man even then. “I’m all right.” It was almost absurdly gentle for him. “Just... tired.” Then his head tipped forward. The last thing Beast registered was the sound of Butcher moving toward him, followed by the terrifying realization that his own body had become strangely weightless. Consciousness slipped away before he could finish another breath, leaving his hand limp against his thigh and his enormous frame suddenly incapable of doing the one thing he had spent the entire evening insisting it could do: hold itself upright.

Near the sink, half concealed behind the discarded towel, an empty vial sat where Beast must have left it earlier. Small enough to miss unless someone was deliberately searching, its glass catching the bathroom light with a faint violet shimmer. The printed warning wrapped around it was clinical rather than decorative, the kind of labeling that suggested laboratory use rather than anything meant for ordinary medical treatment. There were no familiar pharmaceutical markings, no dosage instructions intended for a patient. Only terse technical warnings, a series of symbols, and enough language about suppression, adverse reactions, and enhanced physiology to make the thing deeply unsettling. If Butcher searched the nearby drawer, he would find the matching container tucked beneath ordinary toiletries, its remaining contents glowing with that same unnatural purple light, almost luminescent beneath the sterile bathroom bulbs. And on Beast’s wrist, nearly invisible beneath the damp skin, was the tiny mark that explained what his ribs could not. It had entered through the vein and travelled outward, slowly enough that Butcher had time to act, but steadily enough that ignoring it would have been catastrophic. ➫

[𝙱𝙴𝙰𝚂𝚃. @haggardhound]

Beast’s expression softened almost immediately at the admission, the tension that had been sitting across his features easing into something quieter.

ɪ ᴅᴏ.

Butcher had said, and despite the roughness of it, there had been nothing evasive in the words. It landed somewhere warm beneath Beast’s ribs, leaving him momentarily unable to think of anything clever to say in return. His gaze lingered on Butcher’s face, searching for the usual trace of mockery and finding none, and a small, almost helpless smile tugged at his mouth. He had wanted trust, had asked for it more plainly than he usually allowed himself to ask for anything, and apparently he had 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 possessed more of it than he realized.

Then Butcher looked down at the phone, saw the title of the chat, and something in his expression changed so dramatically that Beast’s brow furrowed. At first, Beast simply watched him. The laughter made zero sense. Butcher bent forward, shoulders shaking, one hand clutching the phone while the other braced against his thigh, and Beast’s expression slowly shifted from confusion to suspicion. He glanced toward the screen, then back at Butcher, as though perhaps there was something written there that he had somehow missed. There was not.

Just 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘉𝘖𝘠𝘚, exactly as Beast had expected. His eyebrows drew together. His mouth flattened.

The large man stood there looking increasingly put upon as Butcher continued to laugh like he had just been handed the funniest thing he had ever seen. “What?” Beast finally asked, the single word carrying considerably more frustration than the situation probably warranted. Butcher only laughed harder, which did absolutely nothing to improve Beast’s mood. “What’s so funny?” His eyes narrowed at the phone. “Butcher.” The warning came low and grumbling, though there was something almost comical about the offended confusion settling over his face. He was no more threatening than a puppy. Why was he laughing? 😤

When Butcher finally managed to choke out that this was what Beast had been upset about, Beast stared at him in utter disbelief. “Well, yeah,” he started as though the answer were painfully obvious. “Your boys.” He glanced toward the phone again, then back to Butcher, who was still struggling to breathe through his laughter. “You kept acting like you didn’t know what I was talking about.”

There was a pause while he tried to reconcile the laughter with everything he had apparently misunderstood. “It says The Boys. What am I supposed to think? I figured you had, what, three of them? Maybe four?”

[𝗕𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗬 𝗕𝗨𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗥 @notaherooi]

the apology stole what little fight remained in butcher before he could properly decide what to do with it. his jaw remained set, but the hard line of his shoulders loosened as beast pinched the bridge of his nose and drew that steadying breath. there was 𝚗𝚘 satisfaction in watching the frustration leave him . . not when it was replaced so quickly by regret.

𝚋. the shortened name landed somewhere unexpectedly soft. butcher said nothing while beast attempted to explain himself. his eyes remained fixed upon him, guarded but no longer combative, following each quiet admission as it stumbled into the next. the mention of his supposed children nearly earned another interruption, but something in beast’s expression stopped it before it could leave his mouth.

| 𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢’𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘 . . |

for one brief, 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 moment, billy could only stare at him. 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍. not merely about the answer, nor whatever personal slight he’d imagined in butcher’s refusal to provide it, but about the pieces of butcher’s life he believed had been kept from him. enough to consider people he had 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 met important simply because they 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍 to butcher. then came the request that stripped the last of the defensiveness from his face.

| 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚎 . . |

butcher’s fingers tightened briefly around the phone. trust had 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 come easily to him. what 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 he possessed had been cut into smaller & smaller portions over the years until handing any of it over felt uncomfortably close to placing a loaded weapon in someone’s palm. beast couldn’t have known how much of it butcher had already given him merely by standing there, allowing the bastard close enough to ask. his gaze caught upon the faint hurt behind beast’s eyes. “ ɪ ᴅᴏ. ” the admission came low & rough, without any of the customary mockery he might have used to blunt it’s meaning. butcher held his stare for another second, ensuring there could be no mistaking him. “ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ɪ ᴘʀᴏʙᴀʙʟʏ ᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛᴏ, sᴜɴsʜɪɴᴇ. ”

he allowed beast to take the phone. butcher watched his thumb move across the screen with enough familiarity to confirm that he had, in fact, seen the bloody thing before. when the phone was returned, his attention dropped to the open conversation.

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙾𝚈𝚂.

his brow furrowed. for several long seconds, butcher merely stared at the title. his eyes moved from the screen to beast’s sheepish expression, then slowly lowered to the phone again.

| 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚜? |

something shifted behind his eyes. the pieces finally slid into place with such staggering n’ spectacular absurdity that butcher’s mouth fell open. no sound emerged at first. he stared at beast as though seeing him for the first time, disbelief steadily overtaking every remaining trace of concern.

“ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ — ” the rest vanished beneath a sudden, helpless bark of laughter. butcher folded forward at the waist, one hand clamping around the phone while the other braced itself against his thigh. laughter tore out of him in great, 𝚞𝚗𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 bursts, rough enough to leave him briefly breathless. every time he appeared close to regaining control, he glanced back at the title glowing across the screen — 𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 — & immediately lost whatever composure he had managed to recover.

“ ᴏʜ, ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴ’ ’ᴇʟʟ — ” he dragged in a breath that did precisely 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 to help him. his shoulders shook violently as another fit seized him, forcing him to turn halfway aside & press the heel of his hand against one watering eye.

➬

[𝙱𝙴𝙰𝚂𝚃. @haggardhound]

Beast nearly doubled over laughing when Butcher managed to get both hands around his raised wrist and threw his weight backward, using every bit of leverage he could muster to drag the offending arm down, but the Polaroid remained 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘭𝘺 out of reach, held high above them with Beast stretching just enough to keep it safely beyond Butcher’s fingertips.

“Oh, come on, B!” he laughed, twisting his wrist just enough to make Butcher’s grip harder to work with while keeping the photograph protected. “You’re really this desperate for it?” The sight of Butcher straining to reach it only made Beast grin wider, especially when he glanced down at the desperate, breathless man trying to wrestle his arm back into submission. “You were even doing a little sexy pose and everything!” he added, laughter breaking through every word as he lifted the Polaroid another inch higher. “Thought I wasn’t home, did you?” He gave the picture an affectionate little wave right in front of Butcher’s face before snatching it back out of reach again, clearly delighted with himself.

Despite Butcher’s determined grip and the considerable effort he was putting into dragging Beast’s arm downward, Beast hardly budged, his laughter continuing to echo through the room as he 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 kept the photograph just close enough for Butcher to almost touch.

[𝙱𝙴𝙰𝚂𝚃. @haggardhound]

The change in Butcher’s tone made Beast’s frustration drain away almost immediately, replaced by a heavy, sinking regret that settled somewhere beneath his ribs. He had pushed too hard, snapped too quickly, and now he could hear exactly how his words had landed. Beast pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment as he drew in a slow, deep breath, trying to collect himself before he made an even bigger mess of things.

When he looked at Butcher again, the irritation had washed away completely. “I’m sorry, B. I didn’t mean to snap.” His voice was quieter now, stripped of the teasing edge that had been there moments before. “I just care. I mean, these are your kids, and I’m sure they’re an important part of your life.” He hesitated there, the next words catching somewhere in his throat because suddenly they felt far more vulnerable than he had intended them to. His gaze dropped briefly to the phone between them before returning to Butcher’s face. “So they’re important to me too.” Another pause, this one longer, as Beast swallowed and forced himself to finish what he had started.

“I want you to trust me.”

There was a faint hurt behind his eyes now. He understood that trust wasn’t something he could demand from Butcher, especially when it came to something clearly so personal. He couldn’t make the man tell him anything he wasn’t ready to say. Still, he reached forward slowly and gently took the phone from Butcher’s hand, careful enough that the gesture felt more like a request than an assumption. He glanced down at the screen, navigating with the familiarity of someone who had seen it before, until the group chat appeared. His eyes lingered on the title for a moment before he quietly held the phone back out, returning it with the same care he had taken when accepting it. His gaze lifted to Butcher, his expression almost sheepish now. “Your boys?”

[𝗕𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗬 𝗕𝗨𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗥 @notaherooi]

the silence that stretched between them had stopped feeling comfortable. something sharp recoiled inside butcher’s ribs. he’d spent the better part of his life making people look at him precisely like that. 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚛𝚢. 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍. 𝚎𝚡𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 . . by the endless work of trying to decide whether anything that came out of his mouth could still be trusted. ordinarily, he could endure it. sometimes, he’d even earned it.

𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚖.

butcher hadn’t realized until that moment how little he could stomach seeing beast genuinely upset. worse still was the possibility that butcher himself had put that look there . . that something he’d said or done had left the stubborn bastard standing before him feeling as though he were being deliberately made a fool of.

he wanted the 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚛 amusement back. wanted beast rolling his eyes, calling him one of those ridiculous little pet names he 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 to despise, crowding into his space merely because he 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 it irritated him. 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 but this frustration . . particularly when it seemed to have been festering while butcher remained entirely oblivious to it. “ ɪ ᴀɪɴ’ᴛ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴ’ ʟʏɪɴ’ ᴛᴏ ʏᴀ. “ the words came out sharper than intended. his jaw locked around a fresh, defensive tirade already stampeding behind his teeth, but it died in his throat when he caught the exasperation in beast’s eyes. because shouting 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 convince him. it 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 wipe that look from his face, either.

| 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚝 . . |

his brow twitched. he scoured beast’s features for a single tell, a twitch of a smile, any indication this was an elaborate joke . . another attempt to have a laugh at butcher’s expense. finding nothing, his hand slid slowly into his coat. butcher dragged out his phone, shoved it unlocked through the narrow space between them, & held the screen rigid, refusing to relinquish his grip.
“ ᴀʟʀɪɢʜᴛ, ᴛʜᴇɴ. sʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴇ. ” his eyes remained locked on beast’s, guarded, dark, & entirely serious. there was 𝚗𝚘 mockery left in them now. only a quiet insistence that, whatever beast believed he had done, butcher be given the chance to prove he hadn’t.

“ sʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀɪᴏᴜs ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴ’ ᴄʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ’s ᴀᴘᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ-ᴄᴇʀᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ɪ’ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ᴀ ʙʟᴇᴇᴅɪɴ’ ʟɪᴛᴛᴇʀ o’ ᴋɪᴅs ɪ’ᴠᴇ ꜰᴏʀɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ. ɢᴏ ᴏɴ, sᴜɴsʜɪɴᴇ. ᴘᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ o’ ᴍʏ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴ’ ᴍɪsᴇʀʏ. ”

[𝗕𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗬 𝗕𝗨𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗥 @notaherooi]

💢👊🏻 [ @haggardhound ]

[𝙱𝙴𝙰𝚂𝚃. @haggardhound]

Beast’s laughter echoed down the hallway as he glanced over his shoulder, saw Butcher rapidly gaining on him, and immediately decided that whatever consequences awaited him were worth it. He made a sharp turn into the guest room, nearly clipping the doorframe with his shoulder, and barreled straight toward the window with the Polaroid still clutched triumphantly in one hand. “Fuck no!” he laughed under his breath, reaching for the latch and discovering, to his absolute horror, that the damn thing was shut. He fumbled with it, yanking once, twice, then again with increasing desperation while the unmistakable slap of Butcher’s bare feet thundered closer behind him. “Shit,” he hissed at the window, giving the latch an impatient shake as though intimidation might convince it to cooperate. “I need this for my wall!” He finally got it loose, shoved the window upward, and barely had time to lean toward the opening before glancing back to see Butcher storming into the room.

The sight of the half naked man bearing down on him only made Beast laugh harder, the precious photograph lifted above his head like a trophy. “You’re not getting it, smalls.” he announced, 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 to scramble halfway through the window while still keeping the Polaroid safely out of reach.