1 - 20 of 37 Works by queuebird
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“Hey man, so you know what I’ve been thinking?” Pete announces. “We’re pretty much eternally soulbonded for life, right? I just, like, feel you in my mind and heart with every breath I take and shit. Do you think when you were born in the hospital the doctor, like, injected you with Pete-molecules and he did it to me with you-molecules and then Mars and the planets and stars aligned and exploded and that’s how we got this way?”
He peers into his room and flicks the light on. The first thing he notices is that all their posters are gone. The second thing he notices is that there’s someone else in Patrick’s bed—a gangly, narrow-faced dude who is tragically sideburnless.
Pete gasps. “What have you done to Patrick?”
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“Is this it?” Bobby says, surveying the car with doubt.
It’s an ugly, boxy thing from the 1970s or something, paint peeling off the hood and sides. There’s a dent in one of the back doors and red tape all over a tail light.
The man leaning against the trunk looks toward him, face hidden behind black sunglasses. He exhales a stream of smoke and drops the cig to the ground.
“Better be careful, gorgeous, or your face’ll stick that way,” he says.
Inspired by art by @willisafishslut.
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“Well I was sitting in the apartment I live in now because my wife and her bitch girlfriends took my goddamn house—which I paid for, by the way—when I realized I could be here instead.” Bobby collapses onto the couch and eyes the TV lazily. “You, uh,” he takes a breath, “watching something?” Without waiting for a response, he rolls his hips, shoves a hand down his pants, and groans. “Oh, Christ. You need to fuckin’—fuck me.”
Nigel watches this, Bobby begging for him the only way he knows how, and has to laugh—for his own fucking sanity, if nothing else.
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“You tremble so sweetly, Will. As if you’ve never been touched before,” Hannibal murmurs, dizzy on Will’s scent and taste and feel.
“Never. N-not by you.”
Or: their first night together.
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"Eduardo."
There's a light, familiar touch at his hip. Eduardo turns around, dislodging the hand.
"You," Eduardo says, "are shameless."
In front of him, Sean Parker contorts his face into something Eduardo might generously consider contrition if he thought Sean Parker had it in him.
"I just wanted to say. You don't have to, like, pretend you don't know me, or something." His voice lowers. "Everyone here knows about us, probably."
Eduardo tries to summon some feeling, some remaining dregs of fury, of helplessness, betrayal. But instead he just feels empty.
"Okay," he says, and turns back to the window.
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“Aww, are you sure?” Elder Michaels looks forlorn and reaches out to stroke Kevin’s arm. “Whoa, you feel good. It’s the—gay thing, isn’t it? You don’t do gay things?”
Almost before Kevin even processes the words, Elder McKinley’s face—the crinkle of his eyes and the maddening curl of his lip—flits to the front of his mind.
Kevin shakes his head again. “No, it’s—it’s not that. I.” He sighs and takes Elder Michaels’s hand, looking into his eyes. “I care for you as a friend, Elder Michaels, but not like that.”
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Or: four times Cameron let Divya use his stuff (and one time he did something about it).
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“I think I want to start dating again.”
Sean blinks up Eduardo’s body, his lips still pressed to Eduardo’s stomach. He props himself up.
“Huh?” he says.
A Friends with Benefits AU.
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Safe to say Divya’s not really looking where he’s going because he’s trying to zip his backpack shut while pelting down a straight road he’s been down a million times and it’s five a.m. and dead fucking silent outside. Of course, that’s when he slams directly into what feels like a lamppost. Except the lamppost goes “whoa!” and scrambles to grab him a little too late to keep him from eating absolute shit on the sidewalk.
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Sean wakes up at around one in the afternoon to find the sun high in the sky, the kitchen devoid of filter coffee, and Eduardo Saverin stripped down to his boxer briefs in the backyard.
A remix of Something Fishy in the State of California.
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“Whoa,” Dustin says when he opens the door.
Eduardo rolls his eyes, pushes inside, and flops onto the couch.
“Who did that to you?” Dustin says, following Eduardo inside. “Jesus.”
Chris looks up from Halo. “Oh, new hickey,” he says.
Dustin drinks something out of a red solo cup on the table. “I mean, hey, whatever floats your boat, but was she a fucking vampire or something?”
“Wardo is a gentleman and doesn’t kiss and tell,” Chris says, mashing the buttons on the controller.
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“The point is,” Dustin raises his voice over Chris starting to puff up and make some indignant noises, “the point is, I was at Alex and Evan’s suite, and they had, like, a fucking tower of cushions and couches and shit from the lounge. It was fucking amazing. And Alex was like, that was only half of it dude, we’re in the middle of taking it down, and I was like, whoaaa.” Dustin pauses and looks at the two of them expectantly.
“Okay?” Chris says.
“We need that,” Dustin says. “In here.”
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“It’s a loyalty card,” the cashier says instead, sounding bored. “Come back five more times, get a free cookie.”
“Come back?” Eames considers this. The only reason he stopped by Cafe Comienzo in the first place is because he tried a new route to his regular lunch spot, got horribly lost, and gave up.
Eames tilts his head at the very attractive cashier. “Hmmm,” he says. “Thank you--” his eyes flick down to the nametag “--Arthur.” Eames favors him with a bright smile.
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“Are you cold?” Eames asks suddenly.
Arthur stops in the middle of wrapping blankets around himself. “Are you not?” he says, defensive.
“Of course, but--” Eames starts forward and, since the rest of his body is bundled up, cups Arthur’s jaw. Like he’s just put his hand in a goddamn fridge. Arthur stares at him, the muscle in his cheek tensing under Eames’s fingers. “--not like that,” Eames finishes.
Arthur closes his eyes when he lets go of his face.
“...My body runs cold,” he says.
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“Hello,” Eames says.
Arthur pushes past him into the flat. “I can’t tell if you’re deliberately hiding my shit or if you just constantly lose shit when I’m not around to pick everything up.”
“Yes. It’s very sad, isn’t it?” Eames makes an appropriate sad face as he follows Arthur around their place. I miss you, he doesn’t say, I miss you and where did you go? and come back to me, because Arthur would probably get mad at him.
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One question and four wrong answers.
Series
- Part 7 of AEDWQ 2020
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He’s been here before. Hasn’t he?
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- Part 6 of AEDWQ 2020
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Eames clutches at the railings as the ship rattles and screams around him.
Series
- Part 5 of AEDWQ 2020
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Four times Point-Man faces the Forger.
Series
- Part 4 of AEDWQ 2020
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A gambler has a plan for a sharpshooter.
Series
- Part 3 of AEDWQ 2020