Just Friends
Summary: 'They were just friends.' Butch thought to himself desperately as he slammed her up against the wall, catching her moan in his mouth, as she ran her hands down his chest. That's all they were – they were just friends, they were just friends, they were… just… friends. GREENS.
Authors note: Kinda (definitely) inspired by More Than Human, sarsaparilla's where the sidewalk ends, and We'reAllInsomniacs's Bright Eyes – because I love the universe that SBJ's brilliant mind managed to create, and her version of the Green's both manage to inspire me and kill me at the same time.
The Powerpuff girls do not belong to me and as always, they have human appendages. The Greens are about 17-18 here.
*Also, happy four years since the last update of More Than Human. I don't care, I will wait until the end of time if need be. January 31st, 2009 – July 23rd, 2013
**Due to a glitch on the site, I wasn't able to upload this on the 23rd like I wanted to, but it's the thought that counts.**
"Holy shit, I can't believe that we made it in! Do you know how long I've been waiting to see these guys play live? Shit I thought they were going to card us for sure!"
Butch grinned down at Buttercup as he pushed his way through the tightly condensed crowed around them and towards the stage, where the mosh pit was – pulling the smaller girl along after him in the wake that he had created. He couldn't remember seeing her this excited since they had become reacquainted, and he would be lying if he said that he didn't find it somewhat amusing.
The superpowered teens were currently in some grungy night club that was hosting some underground rock band or whatever, he couldn't remember the name of them exactly, all he knew was that it was a pretty hardcore rock band, and that it was hosted at some semi-underground club, and that it was going to be loud and rowdy. Two of the things that he loved most in the world, which is what had made him decide to come in the first place.
They had also come in with Mike, the twins Floyd and Lloyd, Harry, Pablo and Mitch, but they had all spilt up once they had gotten in, and Buttercup grabbed him, saying something about wanting to get into the mosh pit before it got too chaotic, and that had sounded like a good idea to him, so they had taken off and hadn't seen the rest of their group since.
Whatever, if something important came up then they knew where to find them.
If he was honest, he didn't mind not knowing where Mitch was. He liked the guy well enough, but he knew that things were still tense between him and Buttercup after the thing, and he knew better then to question her when she pulled him away from the rest of the group to move closer to the stage.
He could tell that they needed some breathing space, and if the stiff way that they acted around each other was enough to go off of – then he figured that it would be like that for a while.
"I knew I brought you along for a reason." He heard Buttercup say behind him, snapping him out of his reprieve. He turned his head slightly to give her a quizzical look as he pushed his way to the front of the stage. "You can clear a path without using your powers – that means front row seats for me." She grinned smugly.
He snorted as he pushed her in front of him so that she was positioned in front of him, directly in front of the stage. "If people don't wanna get hurt, then yeah they tend to move out of my way." He grinned down at her. "Shorty."
"Shut it asswipe, I'm in a good mood tonight, don't ruin it for me."
He barked out a laugh as she turned around to watch as the band got the final touches ready onstage, allowing him to get a good look at her for the first time since they had arrived.
She was wearing a dark, low-rise tank that revealed more of her skin then he had ever seen before, and a part of ripped dark-wash jeans, complete with her favorite pair of combat boots. Her usual makeup was dark and smoky, and her glossy ebony hair almost seemed like it had flakes of glitter in it for some reason. He chose not to ask why.
All and all she looked good, and judging from the smirk that she was wearing, that hadn't disappeared from her face since they had gotten there – she knew it too.
He swallowed, suddenly finding his mouth to be incredibly dry. Had she always looked this good? He hadn't noticed before. She looked wild, but at the same time she looked… almost free-
Then the speakers roared to life and the band started to play – hard.
It was an orchestra of chaos and noise that sent the already pushy crowd into a frenzy of moment and screams, including Buttercup – who didn't hesitate to move her body and dance like he had never seen before. She moved to the pulse of the music perfectly and Butch was taken aback as he watched her, almost shell-shocked, as he watched her change into a completely different person before his eyes.
Fuck, Blossom was supposedly the dancer out of the three of them, but he was willing to bet that she had never danced like the way Buttercup was currently moving before.
She then turned around to face him with a coy smirk on her face, and started to roll her hips to the beat of the music, knowing full well that he was watching, and oh fuck she was really fucking hot. There was blood pooling in places where blood shouldn't be going.
He swallowed thickly as he matched her movements, unable to look away from her lean frame that was illuminated by the flashing strobes – allowing him to see the way her clothes clung to her slicky from the heat of the hundreds of bodies surrounding them – as he felt sweat begin to course down his back.
Holy shit, it was hot. It had to be over hundred degrees easily in the club.
It was hot, she was hot, everything in this place was fucking hot. The heat was getting to his head, making him unable to think properly…
Then he made the mistake of looking right into her bright green eyes and suddenly – it was like the world stopped and fell silent.
They were so green. He thought, hazily, a stark contrast to his own murky green ones. They were so green and so bright that they put the strobes to shame. He was so entranced by the brightness of her eyes, that he didn't notice that he was leaning in closer to her face until it was too late.
He didn't know what came over him. Maybe it was the strobes that bounced off of her lean frame, illuminating the slick beads of sweat that ran down the delicate curve of her neck, or the wild, almost desperate look in the green of her eyes, but he dipped his head down and kissed her – full on the lips, without hesitation or warning.
It wasn't a polite kiss. It was hot and dark and messy, and felt so right yet so wrong, but so fucking amazing, that his forest irises closed on their own free will as he lost himself.
He felt her tense up under him, and didn't have to open his eyes to know that her own lime ones were wide open, staring up at him in shock.
He pulled back after a minute when she remained unresponsive against him, leaving a string of saliva behind as he took in her shocked expression. If she was a different girl, he would have been smug about leaving a girl in such a comatose state, but this was Buttercup – his best friend and worst enemy, and he knew that he had crossed a line.
Shit. Why did I just do that? What the fuck have I done?! He panicked internally, as she remained silent, reaching up to gently touch her now-swollen lips, almost as if she hadn't quite realized what he had just done. The pounding music and the screaming crowd seemed to fade away into the background as she flicked her blazing eyes up to meet his own.
He flinched as he saw her raise her hand – bracing himself for the punch that would surly send him flying into Citysville – but it never came. Instead, her hand grabbed at his shirt collar and yanked him down harshly to her level, and then her lips were on his.
He didn't hesitate to move his lips eagerly against her own, loosing himself as they roughly melded their lips together, gripping her tighter as quiet moans escaped her as he boldly slipped his tongue into her mouth.
They pulled away, only when air became too much of a necessity. He kept his forehead pressed to hers as sweat cursed down from their hair and faces – completely ignoring the most pit that surrounded them.
Holy shit, what the fuck was that? His fried brain managed to piece together. Did she seriously just do that? This is Buttercup for God's sake! She doesn't do shit like this-
"What the fuck was that?" he finally croaked out, voicing his thoughts. Buttercup slowly shook her head, looking just as dazed as he was.
"I don't know." She muttered breathlessly back, before her bright green eyes took on a flinty edge to them. "But you don't get to say jack shit about it. This stays between us."
"Fine by me." Butch muttered breathlessly back as he flicked his head to the side, stray droplets of sweat jettisoning from his ebony spikes, and catching the light of the multi-coloured strobes bouncing off the walls of the club. "Can we do it again? One more for the road?" he asked as a sick grin spread across his face.
"Fuck you, c'mere here." Buttercup snarled as she wrapped an arm around the back of his head and pulled him down to collide his lips with her own again.
He kissed her harder that time, gripped her tighter as they mauled at each other like wild animals. God knows that they'd never do it again, so he figured that he would make the most of it. because even he couldn't deny that she felt fucking fantastic.
He didn't understand why the fuck he had kissed her in the first place, nor did he quite understand why she was kissing him back, and not ripping his head off like she should have been, but he sure as hell wasn't complaning.
Neither paid attention the to the band for the rest of the night. They were too focused on the intense pressure that was quickly building between them.
That wasn't the last time he kissed her though.
A month after the concert, Butch found himself tangled in a mess of limbs with Buttercup. Both green eyed teens tearing at the other in the privacy of his room, desperate for more friction between them.
Butch was grateful that neither Brick nor Boomer were home, because there was absolutely no way he would be able to explain just what the hell was happening right now to them.
Hell, he still didn't know what was going on.
This was his best friend's body that he was running his hands up and down, and kissing with a down right hungry abandon after all. In the back of his mind, he knew that this wasn't right, and that he shouldn't be doing this with her when it was so easy for one or both of them to get hurt – but he didn't care.
He pushed against her lips harder, trying to elect a delisious moan out of her, while she ran her hands up his arms and laced both of her hands around his neck. He shuddered at the sudden pressure, and sucked on her bottom lip, before leaving her mouth and traveled south down her neck, leaving a trail of searing, open-mouthed kisses in his wake.
"You're so fucked up." Buttercup gasped against the side of his face as he ran his hands up her thighs, his hips nudging against her own a little desperately.
"Yeah – and you fucking love it." he growled, raising his head to nip at her earlobe – grinning as he heard her gasp and shudder in pleasure.
"Some friend you are." She murmured before biting him. He hissed in ecstasy. "You bitch, so that's how you want it huh? You like it when I get rough?" he snarled harshly as he picked her up by her thighs – trying his damndest to ignore the word friend.
Why the hell did it matter to him if she had called them friends? He didn't care. He didn't.
They were just friends. Butch thought to himself desperately as he slammed her up against the wall, catching her moan in his mouth, as she ran her hands down his chest. That's all they were – they were just friends, they were just friends, they were… just… friends
Right?
Wrong.
He was starting to think that maybe – just maybe – they were bordering on something a little more than simply friends like he had originally thought.
Because real friends don't kiss like that.
Fuck, friends didn't kiss at all.
He snorted inwardly. Who was he trying to kid? They weren't just friends. They hadn't been for a long time.
They were something far more dangerous than that.
This is wrong. Butch thought to himself as he dragged his finger along her jaw before closing the distance between their faces – watching as her lime green eyes slid shut. She was his best friend, he shouldn't be doing this. He should stop.
But he didn't. Instead of pushing her away like he should have – he pulled her in closer, and fisted his hands in her soft black hair, drawing a sigh out of her in response that made his blood rush south.
Yup. He thought to himself grimly for what felt like the fifth hundredth time. He was fucked.
I need to get a fucking handle on this. He thought as he wrestled with her tongue for dominance, but almost damn near made himself laugh at the thought.
Who the hell was he fooling? 'Getting a handle on it' was basically the same as saying that he needed to control himself, and control was something that he never had much of to begin with.
Hell, he barely even knew what the word meant.
And it didn't matter anyways, because even if he did possess some degree of control, or some form of self-restraint – It didn't fucking matter because it all flew out the window when it came to her regardless.
Goddamn it, he was so fucking screwed it wasn't even funny.
Damn it. Damn it all to hell, because that was exactly where he was going, and he knew it. Might as well embrace it.
"Hey. Buttercup." Butch muttered breathlessly against her lips. It was a week later and he had her pinned up against the side of the school. It was last period, and while he knew that skipping was a bad idea – especially considering that the principle had threated to give him detention for two weeks if he missed anymore class – he couldn't help himself.
He had to see her, touch her, anything. She was a drug, and he was completely and hopelessly addicted on her.
"What dipshit?" she growled back, sounding almost found.
"What… is this, exactly."
The slightly dazed look that he craved so much disappeared from her eyes and she pulled back to look at him strangely. "What do you mean, 'what is this?' You know damn well what we're doing. I know you're crazy, but I didn't peg you for stupid as well."
"Not that." He brushed her off. "I mean us." He clarified. "What are we exactly."
Buttercup stiffened slightly in his hold and pushed him back slightly, so she could get a clear look at his face. He inwardly winced. Shit. He knew he could have expected this reaction.
"We're friends…" she finally said after a moment, and Butch shook his head. "Yeah, I know that obviously, but I don't think that friends do this kind of shit with each other – not that I mind of course – but… it's just got me thinking recently-"
"Oh god, you've been thinking. That's not healthy."
"Fuck you bitch." he snorted as he brushed off her insult – determined not to get deterred. He needed to ask this. If he kept it up any longer, he really would go insane. "I mean it. What are we exactly."
"I told you dumbass, we're friends-"
"Really Buttercup? Are you sure that's all we are? Is that really all I am to you?" suddenly, he was annoyed, and he didn't quite understand why.
"What the fuck is your damage Butch?" Buttercup hissed as she glanced around the area, looking for intruding bystanders. "You were fine with this… thing we've got going on an hour ago. What the hell changed?"
"Everything." he growled back, clenching his fists in irritation. "I've been thinking about this a lot lately – more then I should probably be – and I've reached the conclusion that I really don't think we're in the friendzone anymore."
"Oh my god, see this is why you leave the thinking to me." Buttercup moaned. "You're getting a little too far ahead of yourself here-"
"I don't think I am actually." He snapped. "Just answer the damn question: what are we?"
"Friends Butch, we're friends." Buttercup snarled, but the brief flash of panic he saw in her eyes didn't go unnoticed by him. "You were the one who kissed me first anyways."
"You kissed me back. You didn't have to." He shot back, watching as the colour drained slightly from her face. "You kissed me, when you could have pushed me away – I gave you that option, I wasn't going to force myself on you. I might be a grade A asshole, but I have standards." He watched as she paled. He could tell that he was making her uncomfortable, and that's not what he wanted to do, but his growing irrational about their situation spurred him on.
"You had every opportunity to push me away, but you didn't. if you really wanted to solidify that we were "just friends" then you should have just told me then. I would have backed off." He growled bitterly, waiting to see what retort she would come up with.
"I wasn't thinking straight." She weakly protested. "It was just a heat of the moment type of situation. I didn't think that it was going to end up like this-"
"Yeah, that's what I originally thought too, and I was okay with that, but then shit started to get in the way." he growled low in his throat as he looked away for a brief moment. Buttercup narrowed her eyes at him. "The fuck do you mean by that?"
Shit, he hadn't meant to say that. It had just slipped out.
He winced at forced himself to look back at her. "It's nothing, forget I said anything-"
"Bullshit its nothing." Buttercup damn near snarled at him as she grabbed his shirt collar, yanking him down to her level. "You're going to tell me what the hell his up with you, or so help me god I will-"
"You'll what? Throw me across the football field?" he challenged with a cocky smirk, knowing full well that it would drive her up the wall. Inwardly, he knew it was a horrible idea to urge her on like he was doing, but his own irritation had reached its breaking point. He wanted to hit something, or for someone to hit him and snap him out of whatever mood he had slipped into – preferably her.
"Don't give me any ideas pencil dick, you know full fucking well that I will." She growled tightening her grip on his shirt. "I'll ask again: what the fuck are you going on about?"
"Do pretend like you don't know." He snarled back, his temper threatening to boil over. How could she not get it? How could she not see what the issue here was? It seemed pretty obvious to him.
"Butch, you're not making any fucking sense. Just tell me what's wrong you idiot – you're starting to freak me out!" Buttercup damn near begged him. In another time, he would have been almost flattered that she cared so much about his well-being, but at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care about her worrying over him.
"How the hell can you not understand?" he rumbled lowly as he narrowed his eyes at her. "I think it's pretty obvious by now."
She made a bitter face at his retort. "Is it because
"It's not just that-"
"Then what is it then?"
"IT'S BECAUSE I FUCKING LIKE YOU" He roared before he could stop himself.
Buttercup's bright eyes widened in shock, and he watched as she relinquished the grip she had on his shirt and settled for gaping at him instead – unable to put words in the form of a coherent sentence. It felt like an eternity before she finally found her voice again, but Butch knew that realistically, it was only a minute tops.
"W-what…" she croaked, her voice sounding as dry as the Sahara, and as rough as sandpaper. He sighed, slapping a hand over his eyes, suddenly finding himself unable to look at her face anymore.
There it was… the thing that he had buried deep down inside his chest were his demons slept. The feelings that he didn't want to acknowledge were there. The secret that he had denied for so long.
The one thing that nobody – not even his brothers knew about. The one thing the he didn't want anyone to find out… especially her.
Because the hardest part was that he knew that she didn't feel the same. Her denial of him moments ago was proof of that. Besides – after what happened with Mitch – he knew that she would never feel that way towards a close friend again.
She didn't want to lose another friend, but he didn't want to lose her.
And now, he was afraid that he had.
He removed his hand from his face and squared his shoulders. He was fucked regardless of what he did now always – might as well come out and say it all.
"I just… I really like you BC… and not just in the… friendly way either."
As pound and as tough as he was, he still couldn't quite meet her eyes as the confession slipped past his lips. It wasn't a confession of adoration like most girls wanted to hear, but he was the closest that he was ever going to get to it – besides, she wasn't like most girls anyways.
"You… you what?" Buttercup asked, still stunned from his sudden outburst. She could barely believe what he had said, let alone begin to understand him. "Say that again."
"I-" he bit the inside of his cheek. He really didn't want to say it again. He'd much rather laugh it off and go back to ferociously making out with her against the school wall, but the look on her face told him that there was no way that she was going to grant him that satisfaction.
He clenched his jaw so hard that he thought he might shatter his teeth. He forced himself to maintain eye contact with the lime eyed woman, who was still backed up against the brick wall behind her. Was he really willing to risk everything that they had – even if he himself wasn't sure what it was they had exactly – just to tell her about some pathetic crush that he had developed on her?
No. He wasn't. But she had the right to know… even if knowing the answer would destroy them both.
"I… fuck. I like you... A lot… more than I probably should." He grit out, clenching and unclenching his fists. "I… don't really see you as more than just a friend. Not anymore anyways. I mean, you're still my best friend!" he quickly added. "I just see you as more than that."
The harsh, flinty look that had entered her eyes had disappeared at his quiet admission, and a wild, yet strangely soft look replaced it.
"Butch-"
"I didn't want to." He croaked as he looked away from her in shame. "I fought it for a long time. I didn't want to like you like this. I know what happened between you and Mitch and I-" he choked.
Fuck, please don't hate me. I don't know what I would do if you hate me. You're still my best friend. I don't want to lose you. I can't lose you-
"How long."
He jerked his head back towards Buttercup as he heard her sigh. "What?" he mimicked her after a second, not quite understanding her question. She rolled her bright green eyes with an annoyed sigh, but Butch could see that her guard was still up. "How long have you felt like this? Towards me." she clarified as she crossed her arms over her chest.
"I dunno, it was after the show I think." He muttered as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Or at least, that's when I became aware of it. It could have been longer for all I know."
"Jesus Butch, just how out of touch with yourself are you?" Buttercup asked, shaking her head slightly in disbelief, but she didn't break eye contact with him.
He smiled weakly at her. "No clue. You said it best yourself: I am pretty fucked up."
She shrugged, mirroring him as she relaxed her shoulders and placed her hands into her pockets. "You are… but I never said that it was a bad thing." She admitted softly.
"But what does this mean?" he asked quietly, his eyes almost pleading as he locked in on her form. "Are… Are we still friends?"
Buttercup snorted and took her hands out of her pockets, opting to cross them in front of her chest instead, looking mildly amused at the taller boy's antics. "Yes we're still friends Butch." She confirmed, sounding almost found as the hint of a smirk pulled at her full red lips.
"Really? Are you sure? I don't want the same thing that happened with Mitch to happen to me as well-"
"Butch just stop. You and Mitch are different people. There are different… I don't know. Different circumstances surrounding him. You actually get it." Buttercup groaned, cutting him off and silencing him immediately. They both fidgeted for a moment before she sighed and looked up at him again – her full red lips almost drawn into a tiny pout. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"
"Can you blame me? I know what happened between you and Mitch- I just didn't want the same thing to happen to us." He quickly blurted out, catching her cold stare. "You're my best friend, all things considered. I didn't want to lose you. That and I already know you don't feel the same." He muttered.
Her dark brows furrowed. "What makes you think that?" she questioned. He let out a bitter laugh. "Well I mean, after… him. I know that you'd never feel the same for another one of your friends. You don't want to lose another one. I get it. Really. It's cool. I just don't want to lose you because I'm selfish." He shrugged. "I just figured you should know."
Buttercup was quiet for a while as she pondered over his words. "I knew you'd get it." she finally murmured. "That's the one thing I've always kinda liked about you. You get me. I don't know how, but you do. Better than anyone else."
Of course he'd get her. She was his counterpart after all – they knew each other better than anyone else could hope to dream of. They operated on the same wavelength more often than not.
Which is exactly why he didn't want to tell her in the first place. He didn't want to fuck up that delicate balance.
"Well… I guess I kinda figured this would happen sooner or later. Glad it happened now rather than later though."
He glanced up in shock as Buttercup finally spoke again. His eyes reached her face, and instead of finding her furious, he noted that she looked oddly resigned, and even… calm.
"Wait, you're not mad?" he asked in disbelieve. She shook her head. "No, not really, I mean… this new, and not going to lie, it's a little weird – but I don't really mind?… fuck, sorry. Now I'm not making any sense." She sighed as she ran her hand through her inky black locks.
He shuffled nervously. "So… what does this mean for us?"
"I dunno, give me some time to mull it over dumbass! This isn't a business transaction!"
Both raven-haired teens lapsed into silence as they reviewed what had just transpired. The air around them was tense, but not uncomfortable. Finally, he took a half step towards her, and gently ghosted his hand along her hip. He could feel her muscles jump under his touch, but she didn't make a move to flinch away from him.
"Can we… can we pick up where we left off?" he asked, almost timidly, gesturing between them. Buttercup let out an amused huff, but she too took a step towards him – meeting him in the middle. Lime green boring into forest.
Those blazing green irises looked past his physical self and peered into his soul, rooting him in place – he couldn't think straight, all he could see was the green of her eyes, and he felt like he was drowning in them.
But he honestly didn't mind.
"Yes. Yes we can." She confirmed as she slid her bright eyes shut and tilted her head upwards. He didn't hesitate to wrap his free arm around her waist, and lower his head to press his cracked lips to her softer ones.
The kiss was slow and deep, unlike the many desperate and heavy ones they had before it. It was burning, and filled with something that neither could place, but didn't care to.
Yes. Butch thought to himself as he held her closer to him, slanting his mouth over hers, and feeling her tug him closer to he in response.
They were definitely more than just friends.
And they were both okay with that.
Thank you SBJ – for making me fall in love with the Greens all over again
