Sherlock BBC, Moriarty, He's infuriated to realize it isn't hate.

Person of Interest, Root, if she can't have him then no one can.

Sherlock BBC, Sherlock/John, John thought he'd never stop loving him but then Sherlock came back from the dead.

Les Miserables, Enjolras/Grantaire, Enjolras is never sure if he hates or loves Grantaire.

The Avengers / The Loser (2010), Steve/Cougar, J.Jensen could live with a sniper as lover, but can Captain America?

any, any, The opposite of love is not hate, but indifference.

any, any, clever enough to understand what having enemies means but innocent enough not to recognize when one offers comfort

The Losers (2010) / Supernatural, Sam + Dean, hiding Adam is one thing. Hiding that their father has his own world of normal is quite another

Cabin Pressure (BBC Audio), Martin/Douglas, Sometimes Douglas wonders why he doesn't hate Martin.

great prompt!
it's nice to see when i am not the only person prompting cabin pressure. :-)

any, any love-sick couple, One thing to wake up blind. Quite another to have your eyes open, and everything looks wrong.

lovespell wearing off? magic fading? or simply growing up and getting older?

Edited at 2013-02-11 12:29 pm (UTC)

any, any, "I care enough to hate you."

The pain in Roy's wrist jerks him from the haze of near unconsciousness and back to dizzy, tilting reality. He blinks, grunts, and struggles to place himself in the world. There's the cold damp stink of whiskey-laced vomit on his lapel, the rolling nausea, the hazy fog of alcohol around his brain.

And the pain in his wrist, of course. From when Havoc had wrenched the bottle out of his grip.

"Havoc, 'm fine," he says, reaching forward as the world tilts and spins around him, seeking the bottle, and then Havoc's face, blue eyes lined in worry and glowing with some violent emotion, loom out of the darkness and into his gaze.

"No you're not," the Lieutenant hisses. His voice is soft, but cold. Cold and blistering, like absolute zero, so cold it burns. "Goddamn, Sir, fucking look at yourself."

Roy frowns, unsure of how to answer. He doesn't like the coldness of his Lieutenant's voice, doesn't like the anger in his face. Havoc is by no means an cheerful man, but he does often maintain a rather bullish kind of sarcastic jocularity around Roy. He likes, as Havoc himself has said, to make Roy smile.

But there is none of that joviality here now.

"What's wrong with you," Havoc hisses, and Roy's world spins as Havoc seizes him by his own filthy jacket. "Good god, what's wrong with you."

"'M fine," Roy says again, because he can think of nothing else. "I'm fine, Havoc."

The world explodes into a starry, painful whirl of color, and it takes Roy a minute to realize it is because his Lieutenant has just slapped his face.

"If you do this I can't follow you," Roy hears the Lieutenant whisper through the confusion of glassy, rolling pain, and the sound is somewhere between a threat and a plea . "You can't save us all if you kill yourself first."

"You can follow me," Roy says, confused. The pain is abating, the roll of drunken nausea creeping back in. "You trust me."

"I hate you," Havoc says, and Roy feels himself shaken, gripped by his filthy lapel and wrung like a dog by the neck. Confusion spikes through Roy's mind; Havoc doesn't hate him. Havoc is often exasperated with him, often confused by him, but he has never hated him.

"You love me," he mumbles.

"I hate you when you do this," Havoc says, "I care enough to hate you. Somebody fucking should."

Through the pain, Roy feels Havoc's hands slacken, changing from fists to lax fingers that begin to unbutton his jacket. Roy struggles weakly.

"'M fine," he protests again, and Havoc gives him another rough shake.

"I'll hit you for real if you say that again," he says.

"Don't."

"Why not? I'd hit anyone who hurts you. Even you. Especially you."

Havoc makes a sound, a long, bleating laugh that sounds almost like a sob.

"Don't do this, Sir," he says, and suddenly Roy is crushed in his Lieutenant's strong, smokey arms. "Just stop it. Please."

But the sudden motion sends Roy's head whirling, and he finds himself too unsteady to answer.

Pretty Little Liars, Toby/Spencer, He wishes he could hate her. Wishes he didn't love her so much

Narnia, Aslan/Jadis, I'm the only one who really understands you

Alone in the tent, the Narnians anxious for a result, Aslan covers a paw over his eyes. He still sees the thorn smile—roses in her eyes.

"Dear Aslan, you know it is true."

And if he were mortal, if he were not tied to this land by blood and by rite, he would have crushed her instantly, and watched (maybe with pleasure) her green fairy eyes wilter just as Narnia had done so a hundred years ago. "Witch, I know all."

The smile she gives is a challenge to prove it.

There are no thorns in his smile.

Game of Thrones, Sansa+(or /)Cersei, forgotten where I end and you begin

Animorphs, Edriss/Essam/Allison/Hildy, complicated

She was in perfect control, she had Allison well in hand, and none of this was going anywhere she didn't want it to go.

And when she did things she didn't mean to, and when she heard words that she didn't mean to say, it infuriated her all the more for the slips in control that she was showing in the heights of her passions.

Essam made her angry. When Essam slipped and she saw Hildy, that made her furious. And when Allison shone through Edriss, the yeerk burned alive with her incandescent rage.

Those nights were the best night, though Hildy and Allison were left bruised and the bedsheets needed a thorough cleaning.

Emelan, Crane/Rosethorn, it's easier to let people interpret this as hate

Star Trek XI, Spock/Kirk, they were both sure that they hated each other... until they started kissing

Any, any, It is a curious subject of observation and inquiry, whether hatred and love be not the same thing at bottom. Each, in its utmost development, supposes a high degree of intimacy and heart-knowledge; each renders one individual dependent for the food of his affections and spiritual fife upon another: each leaves the passionate lover, or the no less passionate hater, forlorn and desolate by the withdrawal of his subject. (Hawthorne)

Phineas and Ferb, Perry/Doofenshmirtz, "I fell for you the moment that you pushed me / You captured me and held me for so long"

great prompt!

Avengers movieverse, Thor + Loki (+ author’s choice), someone points out to Thor that the opposite of love is not hate

Avengers movieverse, Tony or Loki,

I know I'd never let you walk away
So why do I push you 'til you break?
And why are you always on the verge of good-bye
Before I'll show you how I really feel inside?

MCU, Darcy/Loki, "Why do you fight with me, if it is not from hate?"

Any, any, there is madness in genius and love in hate.

Glee, Karofsky/Kurt, here’s your one chance, Fancy, don’t let me down

Glee, Kurt/Blaine, it’s all your fault (Pink)