mayhawk
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Summary
SUGGESTION: You should go see Kim. For more kissing!
YOU: The kissing *is* nice.
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT: Goddamnit. What was wrong with some nice, *masculine* disco dancing?
(A fourth kiss.)
Series
- Part 4 of boogie street (four kisses)
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A collection of postcards from Mirova. Seventeen in all.
BACK: Leave it to you to fit so many questions on a postcard. The only way you could fit more is if you wrote on the front, too. To answer briefly - 1, yes, I have a job. 2, yes, it’s teaching. 3, yes, Daddy knew someone. Not answering 4, 5, or 7. 6 - yes, I have a place to live. It gets plenty of light. Don’t forget to water the geraniums in the windowsill. Plant them out in Mai, and think of me.
Dora
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Harry answers the door almost immediately. “Kim!” he says, his eyes widening when he sees you. He grins, something crooked and bright. He’s wearing the sleazy racist robe, its dark blue silk slipping off one shoulder. It’s barely on. The detective is both more and less than you remember - taller than you, leaning on the doorframe with one forearm, green eyes glittering. Alcohol, maybe. You try to subtly peer around him into the apartment. You can’t *quite* tell. But here, in this context - well, he’s just a man. One that’s been made familiar to you in the last three weeks. One that makes something flutter, traitorously, in your lungs.
“Do you, um. Do you want to come in?” he asks.
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SAVOIR FAIRE: You have to get up. You can’t let him see you like this.
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT: You struggle to get up, using the coffee table as leverage. When you reach eye level with it, you see the tabletop is strewn with a veritable crime scene of empty bottles and glasses, crushed beer cans, a tin of still-open pyrholidon. Scattered tapes, postcards from Mirova. An overflowing ashtray like the aftermath of some mini house fire. A heap of playing cards.
PERCEPTION: The radio still on. SAD FM, sad even at eleven in the morning.
(A third kiss. And maybe more.)
Series
- Part 3 of boogie street (four kisses)
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Summary
The third time you trip over Harry, you take him by the shoulders and physically steer him away from you. He’s wearing his mesh tank-top again. You can tell from the warm furry bare skin you touch. You push him over to the far wall - which is not very far at all - the two of you stepping in sync, almost dancing. “Stay,” you say. A hitch of breath, then silence. “Good boy,” you say, almost without thinking, and there is a sharp sudden breath before you. The drag of air across your skin.
Recent series
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As a rule, Crowley does not allow himself to think about what Aziraphale would be like in bed.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,730
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 24
- Kudos:
- 157
- Bookmarks:
- 9
- Hits:
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Bookmarked by mayhawk
06 Jan 2026
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“I probably deserved it,” Harry says contemplatively as you pull out of the motor pool. He’s looking out of the window up at the light on in C-Wing when you finally glance over your shoulder at him and decide you don’t care if he deserved it or not. You will take this man back to your apartment by the harbour and you will give him soup because there will be no fresh food until you go to the supermarché tomorrow, and you will set him up on the couch with the old spare duvet from the airing cupboard, and you will check the dressings on his wounds again in the morning.
And that you do.
harry (unofficially) moves in with kim after martinaise.
Bookmarked by mayhawk
02 Jan 2026
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Six Thousand Years of Song by TurnSpitDog
Fandoms: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
26 Dec 2025
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As Crowley sat on the sofa, watching Aziraphale position the needle over a record and eat a slice of Camembert directly off the cheese knife, something stirred in his brain. "It might be a love song."
"Well, that barely narrows it down. What kind of love song?"
(Crowley tries to extract a song from the murky depths of his memory, with Aziraphale’s help.)
Bookmarked by mayhawk
27 Dec 2025
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ENDURANCE – The whisper of Kim’s fingers against your skin remains even as you swallow the capsules with two generous mouthfuls of water (if just to prove that you’re grateful).
KIM KITSURAGI – “Good,” Kim says, and screws the cap back onto the bottle. He bends down to put it on the coffee table, condensation quickly drawing a wet ring against the dark wood. The shadows where the light from the small window doesn’t hit him round out his features. It makes him look softer. “Big day ahead.”
He makes a little noise like he’s amused at himself.
or, kim moves to the 41st precinct.
Bookmarked by mayhawk
27 Dec 2025
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Summary
Two repressed men wind down on the balcony of the Whirling-In-Rags. One of them is smoking his single cigarette of the day and resolutely *not* thinking about his temporary partner’s bicep girth, or how that partner has already made space for himself in this once-solitary nightly ritual, or what other spaces that partner might contort himself into, given time…
The other man has a cap of pyrholidon and an associated outstanding item on his task list begging to be completed.- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,388
- Chapters:
- 1/2
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 19
- Kudos:
- 40
- Bookmarks:
- 6
- Hits:
- 302
Bookmarked by mayhawk
19 Dec 2025