Looney Toons ficlet

[icarus_chained]

Don't ask. For a prompt over on comment_fic. I have no idea what possessed me.

Title: Foreign Feelings
Rating: PG
Fandom: Warner Bros, Looney Toons
Characters/Pairings: Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck (slash only if you squint really really hard)
Summary: One of their encounters doesn't end as usual, and Bugs has to admit something ... unpleasant
Wordcount: 506
Prompt: Bugs Bunny/Daffy Duck, admitting feelings
Disclaimer: Not mine

Foreign Feelings

"You're despicable," Daffy hissed, with his usual spray of spittle, and this time also some unnamable fluids from the lake Bugs had just dropped him into. Well, he was a duck. Could Bugs be blamed for thinking he might want to top the evening off with a swim?

Yes. Apparently, yes, as far as Daffy was concerned. Wet and filthy and practically vibrating with rage, the duck stalked past him, not even bothering with sarcasm, or invective, or even a 'how dare you' to keep Bugs happy. Daffy could usually be relied upon for at least one of those. Usually all three, with some attempted violence thrown in for good measure. Volatile, and amusing, and spluttering furiously in Bugs' face. Some of their best moments had been like that.

Not this time, though. Whether it was the mud hole, or the trickery, or maybe Daffy, just for now, was just too tired, but there was none of that. Only silent fury, and the wet slap of muddy feet stalking away. Not even looking back.

That was ... Well. Bugs didn't like that. He didn't ever like being ignored, not when he was the one trying for attention.

"Hey now. Hold on a minute, Doc!"

Daffy didn't look back, just threw him a gesture that was just begging for an animator's eraser. And, no, definitely not, Bugs was not putting up with that.

Catching Daffy by his (surprisingly narrow) shoulders almost did get him the violence he was looking for. Almost, and Bugs was just gearing up for it, just fixing his bland little smile for the occasion, when Daffy ... slumped. Just sort of crumpled into the very image of muddy misery in Bugs' arms, his eyes dropping to stare vacantly through the white patch on Bugs' chest. One hand coming up, ignoring the hold Bugs still had on his shoulders, to wave resignedly.

"Well?" the duck asked, even his lisp flattened. Steadfastly ignoring Bugs, just waiting for whatever was going to happen. Silently prompting his old enemy to get it over with.

Looking down at him, Bugs felt something ... very strange happen inside his chest. Some vastly unfamiliar feeling, that for a long moment he couldn't put a name to. Not anger. Not joy. Not pain. Not glee.

Guilt. A squirming thing in his chest, that he'd almost never had occasion to feel before. Guilt, from him. For Daffy.

Preposterous! Ridiculous! Almost, for a terrible moment, worth getting angry over. Worth lashing out over. Nearly, nearly. But then ...

Daffy didn't look at him. Tensed, mildly, as Bugs' hands tightened, but didn't say anything. Didn't blister, or glare, or fight, or spit. Still waiting. Still standing. Just ... there.

And Bugs felt anger drain out, almost drawn through his feet by an animator's pencil. He blinked, as close to speechless as he'd ever come, and pulled Daffy forward. Tugged him into a slightly rough, very muddy, and very shocked embrace, and gave voice to something he had never, ever admitted before. Certainly not to Daffy.

"Sorry," Bugs whispered, nearly inaudible into Daffy's shock. "I'm sorry."