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Rabbit Hole

Summary:

Clancy and Lucas take a few swigs of moonshine out in the bayou

Notes:

I love to make Clancy's life a living hell... but I also love writing fluffy shit for this pairing XD Thus this fanfic was born. It's true; We do need more domestic shit for Clancy and Lucas in the RE7 fandom. I am super happy with how popular this pairing has become as of late! So many new RE7 fanfics to read!! Welcome, welcome!

Enjoy my newest contribution to this lovely pairing!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

A warm July breeze drifted over the bayou, the willows surrounding the Baker Property bending gracefully into the muddy water as their roots dug into the moist earth. 

 

Focusing on the hand holding his shoulder in place, Clancy felt the roiling in his stomach cease in time with the croaking of the toads and the buzzing of the flies echoing through the swamp. With a single cough, the disgusting bile foaming in his mouth was pushed back down, an impressed noise leaving Clancy's lips as he clutched the bottle of moonshine between two sweaty palms. 

 

His face felt unnaturally warm, but, then again, this was the first time in a very long time he was feeling the sun on his skin.

 

It was also the first time in a very long time that he was drinking alcohol. Definitely no correlation between that and his rapidly rising body temperature, no siree. "No fucking way," Clancy managed to choke after a moment, his throat feeling as though he had just finished chugging a gallon of glass shards. With a mischievous smile, Clancy freed one of his hands and placed it on top of Lucas', his heart thudding rapidly as Lucas inhaled through his teeth. "Try it," Clancy continued with a small smirk, "Let's compare and see how much you can drink."

Water licked the bottom of his sneakers, the dock shifting and moaning as Lucas scoffed and muttered something. It was… nice to be out of the house for once. While the rooms in the Main House were certainly an upgrade to the old cages he had been kept in during his stay in the Barn, Clancy wasn’t exactly jumping for joy over the filthy, blood soaked bedroom he and Lucas were sharing (aka stealing from Marguerite). Honestly, nothing compared to being out in nature, even though a good portion of the Baker Property was covered in slimy mold and the other half smelt of rotting corpses.

 

The thing was, Clancy didn't really mind the smells all too much.

 

He also didn't really mind listening to Eveline's newest "family members" scream in agony when he and Lucas would throw them into the Battle Royale cell with nothing but a hope and a prayer either.

 

In fact, he kind of enjoyed it.

 

It took a long time for Clancy to figure out why Lucas had wasted some of the precious serum he had received from The Connections to heal Clancy's mind and body in the aftermath of The Birthday Room, but now Clancy had a pretty good guess as to why.

 

Clancy and Lucas were like two peas in a pod at the end of the day. Like Bonnie and Clyde, except less bank robbing and more stabbing people to death when they wouldn't cooperate with Lucas' (and now Clancy's) games.

 

The bottle was suddenly yanked from his grasp, Clancy turning his head to the right as he watched Lucas take a forceful swig of the liquid. With a choke, Lucas spat the bitter fluid over the side of the dock, Clancy's laughter making him shake to the point where he could hear his bones clacking together. "Fuckin' sonuva'!" Lucas sputtered as he tried to regain his composure, Clancy sliding himself to the right and pressing their sides together, "When the Hell was that shit made !? The fuckin' 1700s!?"

 

"It's spicy," Clancy agreed with a lick to his lips, Lucas tossing the bottle into the swamp as he grumbled a final curse and pouted. Wrapping his own arm around Lucas' shoulders, bleach and oil infiltrated Clancy’s lungs, a scent that seemed to linger on Lucas' clothing not unlike a parasite. "All these years of living in the middle of Louisiana and you still can't hold down your liquor," Clancy teased lightly, the rising sun sparking Lucas' electric blue eyes to life. It was like someone had flipped a switch, the circuits firing pulses of electricity through the air and into Lucas' frail features. The dark circles around his eyes only accentuated how fucking bright his irises really were.

 

Picking up on Clancy's nudges, Lucas raised a brow and muttered, "Yer one ta talk, Clanc. Can't even keep Ma's cookin' down without pitchin' a fit-"

 

"That is COMPLETELY different!" Clancy argued with a laugh, a shudder passing through his body as memories of maggots and intestines curled to the front of his mind. When a sharp burst of laughter left Lucas' lips, his hand kneading gently at Clancy's shoulder blade, Clancy narrowed his eyes and snapped sourly, "You laugh, but you never had a centipede shoved down your throat after you refused to eat the remains of your ex-crewmates."

 

It was a very uncomfortable topic, bringing up Andre and Pete, but every once in a while the conversation would steer towards Clancy's final moments with the Sewer Gators crew. He wasn't entirely sure if the body he had been forced to eat way back when was Pete's or Andre's, but the idea still had Clancy reeling regardless of his shaky moral standing. 

 

His coworkers hadn't deserved to die the way that they did. 

 

Lucas never did tell him what had happened to their bodies and some private part of Clancy wanted to keep it that way. Hopefully, Andre and Pete were happy together wherever the Hell you go when you die and not stuck lurching around in the basement of the Main House like the rest of The Connections' failed experiments.

 

Shifting on the dock, Lucas hummed and stared out into the murky dawn. He let go of Clancy's shoulder and moved his hand to Clancy's, his rough palm smoothing against Clancy’s as the world breathed around them. "Can't argue with that," Lucas slurred after a moment, Clancy leaning his head against Lucas' shoulder as he listened to the rattles shaking Lucas' ribcage, "Her cookin' was shit even 'fore that lil' bitch fucked up her mind."

 

A complacent silence fell over them, the bullfrogs gurgling a happy tune as the mosquitoes buzzed in harmony. A loud splash was heard to their left, the presence of an alligator made loud and clear even though the water was devoid of any ripples. Lucas, his legs spreading wide and his back hunching over, pulled his phone from his pocket and started to flip lazily through Twitter, his hand never leaving Clancy's as he snorted and commented on something he read. Clancy kept his eyes focused on the sky, trying to catch hints of the oranges and reds that the sunrise promised through the thick foliage far above.

 

Never in a million years had Clancy pictured himself sitting in the middle of a bayou, someone else's blood staining the front of his shirt, a murderer sitting to his left and holding his hand like a lifeline, and actually being content… no, HAPPY about it. The calming lull of the water nearly put him into a trance as he contemplated how they were going to deal with the newest of Eveline’s party guests.

 

It was weird to see how far he had tumbled down the rabbit hole in such a short period of time.

 

Maybe, if he had any sense left, he would try to claw himself out of the ground before it was too late.

 

A soft peck was pressed to the crown of Clancy's head, Clancy’s attention shifting to get a good look at Lucas' reddening face. With a snort, Clancy used his free hand to caress Lucas' cheek, his body twisting as he positioned himself to the side. "Don't stop there, country boy," Clancy mumbled as he sealed his lips over Lucas'. The dull sound of Lucas' phone dropping onto the dock was immediately followed by a hand ghosting up the back of Clancy's neck, a purr escaping Clancy's lips as he licked at the seam of Lucas' mouth and felt Lucas pull sharply at his hair.

 

A quiet whine drifted from Lucas' lips as Clancy pulled away, a glimmer of satisfaction sparking deep in Clancy's chest as he recognized the blush positively setting Lucas' face ablaze. Pressing their foreheads together, Clancy squeezed Lucas' fingers reassuringly. "Yer trouble," Lucas managed after a moment, his voice harsher than it had been a couple of seconds ago. With a grin, Lucas stared at Clancy, a flurry of butterflies eating at the lining of Clancy's stomach as he gauged the unhinged glint in Lucas’ eyes. "Yer my trouble, baby," Lucas husked eventually, tightening his hold on Clancy as he leaned in for another kiss.

 

With a feral grin, Clancy accepted the touch, parting his mouth as Lucas took the invitation and deepened the kiss.

 

Maybe, if he had any sense left, Clancy could try running away again. Maybe he could try calling for help. Maybe he could just… go out kicking and screaming like Andre and Pete had.

 

Teeth nibbled at Clancy's lower lip, a hiss of pleasure riding up and down his spine as he untangled his hand from Lucas' and fisted the fabric of his hoodie. He dragged them closer, vaguely wondering if he could crawl inside of Lucas' lungs if he sucked on his tongue hard enough.

 

Yeah, yeah. 

 

He COULD try to leave all of this behind.

 

But where's the fun in that?

Notes:

Crazy Clancy my beloved 🤗 Gotta love a boy whose lost his marbles, but loves his psychotic murderous boyfriend anyways!