Works in Challenges/Collections
Listing Works
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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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Or: four times Cameron let Divya use his stuff (and one time he did something about it).
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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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“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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“His name is Arthur,” Eames comments as he flicks the stove on.
“So you slept with him already,” Yusuf says mildly, sitting at the kitchen table with his laptop.
“I protest this assumption,” Eames protests. “I don’t just sleep with everyone, I can have a normal conversation every now and then.”
Yusuf looks at Eames over his glasses. “Am I wrong?”
Eames frowns.
“You are a terrible friend,” he concludes.
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Alfie wakes Tommy up with a blow job.
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“Can we talk?” Ada says.
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“There’s a creep in twelve-B,” Arthur says. “Avoid him if you can. He’s angling for better seats.”
“Shit, he can have them.” Ariadne pulls the curtain back further. “Are those lips real?”
“Stop looking at him,” Arthur hisses.
At that moment, the man glances their way and catches Arthur’s eye. His face lights up, and he reaches to press the attendant button.
“Oh my God,” Ariadne says wonderingly. She looks at Arthur and grins. “He likes you.”
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“Eames has a crush,” Ariadne says, eyes bright.
Arthur looks at her, hands poised over his laptop keyboard. “What?”
“Eames. He’s crushing on someone super cute.” She leans in conspiratorially. “On this very team.” She kicks her feet up on the table holding the PASIV and looks well pleased.
Arthur narrows his eyes. “...Who?”