![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
W/H: You Can't Go Home Again
Jun. 17th, 2008 07:33 pm"You Can't Go Back Home Again" is a storyline focussing on Hobbie's personality, relationships and sexuality instead of Wes in whose happy go lucky style I usually write those two guys. I deals with a specific time in Hobbie's life before, during and after an undercover mission and how it affects him in ways he didn't think possible.
I always wanted to write something that focuses on Hobbie instead of Wes because Hobbie is such an amazing character whose personality is very three-dimensional and I love the different aspects of it so that writing a grim 'n' gritty emotional Hobbie tale that serves as a character piece and also explores some of Hobbie's past I have never tapped into but is one of the reasons he is who he is today was something I always wanted to do.
Another thing I always knew was that there was an incident in Hobbie's life that showed that he was more than just Wes' partner in crime and lover, that showed that he was willing to get up and do a job by himself; a job Wes would never be able to do. I wanted to show just how efficient Hobbie could be and I always thought of Hobbie as someone who had spent time in prison because he is a character you wouldn't expect it from and that's what I like.
Oz finally helped me find the tone I needed for this story because it is dark and set in prison which helped me get into the right mindset. I know that it might seem as if Oz inspired this storyline but it was something I had in mind for a long time.
This whole preface's intention is to point out that this isn't the usual W/H tale from Wes' point of view. This is Hobbie's story and because Hobbie is a much darker, pessimistic character, it is a lot darker and very fun to write.
The familiar stench of alcohol filled Hobbie's nostrils when he entered his quarters for the first time in months. He quickly noticed that Wes who hadn't been in the rec rooom to greet him along with the other team members was sitting on the bed drinking whisky out of an almost empty bottle.
"Welcome home, sucker," he slurred when after several seconds he became aware of Hobbie's presence.
It had been months since they had been in here together; the last time they had slept with each otehr had been the night before Hobbie's undercover mission and although he had seen Wes afterwards, he had not felt compelled to exchange even one nice word with him then, had gone as far as to threaten him.
"How was prison?" Wes asked when Hobbie sat down next to him. Hobbie knew Wes was taunting him, that he didn't care and was still hurt by what Hobbie had last said to him.
"It smelt way better than this shithole." He took the bottle from Wes and took several big sips.
"Careful, man, you haven't taken a drink in ages," Wes warned him.
"What?" Hobbie asked defiantly when he lowered the bottle. "You think there is no alcohol in prison? I drank moonlight, my friend; the purest alcohol you can get. Disgusting, yeah, but it sure does the job."
They drank in silence for a while. Hobbie knew Wes didn't know what to say, that he was drunk. There was no way he was going to apologize for what he had done when their paths had last crossed, almost compromising Hobbie's cover which was why Hobbie himself was not going to apologize for what he had done; it had been necessary and justified. There was no way Wes was going to ask about the job; the little had seen had been more than enough.
Hobbie felt Was unceremoniously put his hand on his crotch, resting it there for a second before continuing his move. It was like in the past, maybe a little more direct but nothing Hobbie wasn't used to.
"Get your hands off me," he hissed, jerking up and away from the bed.
Wes watched him in astonishment.
"What, you want a foreplay?" he asked with a smirk on his face to hide his disappointment, his lack of understanding. "You can't say you're traumatized by something that happened in proson because we both know you're in for any kind of sick shit. So, come back here and stop playing hard to get." Wes had gotten up and, still holding the now empty bottle in his hand, he walked over to Hobbie.
For the first time in his life, Hobbie felt disgusted by Wes. He saw the drunk, horny man who wouldn't take no for an answer standing a few feet away and he knew that he was in no way interested in this man tonight and he knew it wasn't because Wes had drunk so much and was so horny; those were two things he could easily deal with.
No, the problem was the man himself.
I always wanted to write something that focuses on Hobbie instead of Wes because Hobbie is such an amazing character whose personality is very three-dimensional and I love the different aspects of it so that writing a grim 'n' gritty emotional Hobbie tale that serves as a character piece and also explores some of Hobbie's past I have never tapped into but is one of the reasons he is who he is today was something I always wanted to do.
Another thing I always knew was that there was an incident in Hobbie's life that showed that he was more than just Wes' partner in crime and lover, that showed that he was willing to get up and do a job by himself; a job Wes would never be able to do. I wanted to show just how efficient Hobbie could be and I always thought of Hobbie as someone who had spent time in prison because he is a character you wouldn't expect it from and that's what I like.
Oz finally helped me find the tone I needed for this story because it is dark and set in prison which helped me get into the right mindset. I know that it might seem as if Oz inspired this storyline but it was something I had in mind for a long time.
This whole preface's intention is to point out that this isn't the usual W/H tale from Wes' point of view. This is Hobbie's story and because Hobbie is a much darker, pessimistic character, it is a lot darker and very fun to write.
The familiar stench of alcohol filled Hobbie's nostrils when he entered his quarters for the first time in months. He quickly noticed that Wes who hadn't been in the rec rooom to greet him along with the other team members was sitting on the bed drinking whisky out of an almost empty bottle.
"Welcome home, sucker," he slurred when after several seconds he became aware of Hobbie's presence.
It had been months since they had been in here together; the last time they had slept with each otehr had been the night before Hobbie's undercover mission and although he had seen Wes afterwards, he had not felt compelled to exchange even one nice word with him then, had gone as far as to threaten him.
"How was prison?" Wes asked when Hobbie sat down next to him. Hobbie knew Wes was taunting him, that he didn't care and was still hurt by what Hobbie had last said to him.
"It smelt way better than this shithole." He took the bottle from Wes and took several big sips.
"Careful, man, you haven't taken a drink in ages," Wes warned him.
"What?" Hobbie asked defiantly when he lowered the bottle. "You think there is no alcohol in prison? I drank moonlight, my friend; the purest alcohol you can get. Disgusting, yeah, but it sure does the job."
They drank in silence for a while. Hobbie knew Wes didn't know what to say, that he was drunk. There was no way he was going to apologize for what he had done when their paths had last crossed, almost compromising Hobbie's cover which was why Hobbie himself was not going to apologize for what he had done; it had been necessary and justified. There was no way Wes was going to ask about the job; the little had seen had been more than enough.
Hobbie felt Was unceremoniously put his hand on his crotch, resting it there for a second before continuing his move. It was like in the past, maybe a little more direct but nothing Hobbie wasn't used to.
"Get your hands off me," he hissed, jerking up and away from the bed.
Wes watched him in astonishment.
"What, you want a foreplay?" he asked with a smirk on his face to hide his disappointment, his lack of understanding. "You can't say you're traumatized by something that happened in proson because we both know you're in for any kind of sick shit. So, come back here and stop playing hard to get." Wes had gotten up and, still holding the now empty bottle in his hand, he walked over to Hobbie.
For the first time in his life, Hobbie felt disgusted by Wes. He saw the drunk, horny man who wouldn't take no for an answer standing a few feet away and he knew that he was in no way interested in this man tonight and he knew it wasn't because Wes had drunk so much and was so horny; those were two things he could easily deal with.
No, the problem was the man himself.
