WIP Wednesday [2020-08-26]

[thrillingdetectivetales]

WIP Wednesday!



It's that time again, my darlings! What do you have cooking this week? Give us a little taste in the comments!

Comments

[zippitgood]

This has been sitting in my files for a while now, but having a hard time getting my brain to focus on writing right now. Also I feel like I need to poke at this pretty hard to get it into line.

They’re old. Nix closing in on 102 as the months pass and Dick already 102 and counting. Things creak and twinge more. A hand placed on the couch arm to get up when it never used to be. It’s all a part of life. Colds linger and hang on like the dirt and grime of bygone days. They make it through the winter with only a few sniffles chased off by the old Nixon remedy of honeyed whiskey with far less whiskey these days. A few more layers added to the bed. More meals based around chicken and beef. Hearty stews to fill up the reserves and tune the body to healing and fighting. So when Nix gets sick again in the waning days of winter, there’s not much worry.

Nix claims Dick always makes bigger production of things than he does. Dick will staunchly deny that to his dying days. Though to himself, he can grudingly admit that he does. But, like usual, every time he expresses concern about Nix’s health he gets a hand waved at him and a grumbled, “I’m fine, Dick. Just leave me be. It’ll go away on its own. There’s no need for a pointless trip to the doctor.”

Things don’t change much. They putter around their house, catching up with Dick’s kids and grandkids, the kids of some of the rest of the company, and ironing out the last details for the next reunion. It’s one phone call or one drop in visit after the other. Each guest greeted with the honeyed warmth of an old friend coming home and tucking themselves into their favorite armchair while they catch up over tea. The crush of pine needles and herb infused meals suffuse the house. They serve plenty of stews and soups to their visitors. They ask about the cough and the sniffles and how long it’s been. They’re a united front there.

It’s nothing to be worried about. Must be something in the air. It’s just the weather changing on them.

[muccamukk]

That's lovely. I really like the intimacy you've built in. I can just feel how long they've been a part of each other's lives.

Though now I'm extremely worried about Nix's health!

Are you trying to get this done for Nix's birthday?

[zippitgood]

Aww, thank you, friend.

Umm, sorry? lol.

No? Though maybe now I should though I'm not sure this is an appropriate fic to post on his birthday for that matter.

[scandalinbohemia]

This is so lovely. Domestic and (already) heart wrenching, dammit.

[zippitgood]

Aww, thank you!

[muccamukk]

Still working on Don/Buck UCLA fic, or back to working on it after the OT3 fic, and it consists almost entirely of awkward conversations.

One of those imageless, clinging dreams had overtaken Buck when the ringing phone jolted him awake. He was one his feet next to it before his brain even clued in that he wasn't in bed any more, let alone that he had the receiver in his hand and was saying something, who knew what, into the hissing line.

"Buck?" that was Don's voice, but small and far away, and not just because of the bad connection. Buck tried to check his watch, but he wasn't wearing it, and he couldn't see the kitchen clock in the dark. It had to be the middle of the night.

"Yeah," he said, voice rough. "Yeah, I'm here."

"I..." Don trailed off, and Buck gripped the phone so tight his fingers started to tingle from the lack of blood.

"It's all right, Donny," Buck said, knowing it was anything but. "It's... what time is it?"

A pause followed, and something clattered in the background. Buck wondered if like him Don was standing in just his shorts in the middle of the room holding onto the phone like a man drowning. "Two fifteen," Don said finally. "I'm sorry, I..."

He was drunk, Buck realised, finally hearing the slur in his words, and that scared him more than anything else. "Where are you?"

Another pause, this time Buck listened past the rough breathing, and tried to make out any kind of background noises, but he couldn't hear anything.

"Don, you okay?"

The line went so still that Buck thought for a moment that Don had quietly hung up leaving Buck pleading with an dead connection. Then, finally, Don pulled in a ragged breath and asked in the smallest voice Buck had ever heard, "Can I come over?"

[scandalinbohemia]

This is gonna hurt real good someday.

I love the first part, the description of how Buck wakes up to himself doing something he can't remember starting is SO genuinely human and real.

From Part V of my Winnix series

[scandalinbohemia]

Ways to keep each other warm in a foxhole:

“At some point,” he continued, carefully choosing his words, “we'd probably want to take off our clothes.”

Dick swallowed, his Adam's apple nothing but a momentary ripple in the bundled fabric of his scarf. He held perfectly still, like a living statue.

“Because it'd be hot,” he said reasonably. His voice sounded a little muddy, like his tongue was stuck to his palate.

“So hot,” Nix confirmed. “Too hot. I've got half a mind to complain to the concierge later.”

“No,” Dick said. “I like it like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“All right. About those clothes, then.”

Dick hummed encouragingly. Emboldened, Nix's fingers wrapped a little tighter around Dick's thigh; his thumb stroked the hollow at the hinge of his thigh, dragging along the crease of his trousers.

“Jacket first. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Dick agreed.

“Shirt next.”

“Suspenders,” Dick corrected. “You're forgetting--”

“Yes. Good point. I'll do those first. And your tie, too.”

“My tie?” Dick repeated.

“Well, yes.”

“Oh. You're taking off my clothes.”

“Yes, I am,” Nix confirmed, frowning at the confusion. “I mean, if you--”

“No, I--Yes. Sure. I like that.”

Nix took a quick breath through his nose, feeling like he was losing narrative steam. The last thing he wanted now was to get stuck in a prolonged description of items of clothing.

“Look, uh. Let's call this part done, okay?”

“So,” Dick said, voice rumbling in his throat like gravel, “you've got all your clothes on, and I'm wearing nothing?”

The image went straight to Nix's crotch like a beam of light running through his body.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

Re: From Part V of my Winnix series

[muccamukk]

Awwww. This is lovely. I'm very, very into their castles in the clouds when they're stuck in Bastogne. The dialogue and intimacy are so hot.