Title: Hell's Boy
Author: Prentice
Rating: FRAO
Fandom: Hellboy
Pairing: John/Hellboy
Warnings: D/s overtones.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the story idea.
Author's Note: I'm trying to branch out my writing a little and one of the first things I've done is try to write things I've never written before. First, I wrote my first ever femslash; now, I'm trying to write this.
Summary: A job transfer leads to an unexpected turn in John and Hellboy's relationship.
Hell's Boy
by Prentice
When John transfers it isn't because he wants to, it's because he has to. He can't – can't – stand another minute of watching Hellboy and Liz together. Ever since the incident – that's what they're calling it now; the incident – in Russia and the inevitable coming together of two very unique and special individuals, John can't bear to see them laughing, hugging, kissing, loving together for another minute, another second.
He tried to. For the longest time, he tried to. He even tried to be happy for them, which he was, they were his friends, but to have it there, in his face, every day was like twisting a knife in his heart and so when the chance for a transfer came, he took it.
It wasn't a bad transfer. It was excellent, in fact, perfect. To be reassigned back to Quantico, a place he knew and was familiar with, to be a part of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI was something that John had secretly hoped for from the moment he had graduated. But, like so many other of his ideals, it had turned to ash the moment he had laid eyes on the real living, breathing Hellboy. Wasn't it, after all, every child's dream to work with a superhero, even if only to be their sidekick?
Now, though, it was different. Looking down at the official seal on his transfer papers, the ones that he had taken to Manning himself, it was like the proverbial punch to the gut. To have something he wanted for so long, only to find that when he finally got it, he wasn't able to enjoy it, even for a moment…it hurt.
It hurt more than he could ever say.
Dropping the file folder with his reassignment papers onto his bed, John released a shaking sigh. He felt raw inside. Raw and tired and older than his almost twenty-eight years but most of all he felt…lost.
Utterly and completely lost.
Hellboy, Liz, Abe, Clay and even to some extent Manning had become such an integral part of his life in the last year that it was hard, almost too hard, to think of what life would be like without them. No more reading 'The Catcher In The Rye' to Abe, no more coffee trips with Liz, no more target practice with Clay, no more arguing with Manning, and most of all, no more sharing peanut butter and honey sandwiches with Red while the big demon lounged on his bed, head lolling lazily.
In the end, there would be no more B.P.R.D. related anything because as far as the rest of the FBI and the world were concerned – it didn't exist. Hellboy didn't exist. Liz didn't exist. Abe didn't exist. And what John had been doing for the last year of his life Did Not Exist. Ever. Anywhere. On any findable record. So where did that leave him?
With a dream job I don't dream about anymore, he thought, scrubbing a hand through his hair wearily. No, he didn't dream about being in the BAU anymore. He didn't dream about being a supervisory special agent or even just the rookie. He dreamed about being…being…
Hellboy's.
TBC...