WIP Wednesday [2020-08-26]

26/08/2020 12:34
thrillingdetectivetales: Two American Marines in gas masks look down at the camera, with the words "MOD" in a soft grey-blue (several shades darker than the sky in the background) above and slightly behind them. (HA - Mod GK 2)
[personal profile] thrillingdetectivetales posting in [community profile] heavyartillery




WIP Wednesday!



It's that time again, my darlings! What do you have cooking this week? Give us a little taste in the comments!
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Date: 26/08/2020 17:47 (UTC)
muccamukk: Blue sky with aeroplanes trailing red, orange, yellow, green and blue smoke. Text: "Not June. Still Queer." (Misc: Still Queer)
From: [personal profile] 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?"

Date: 26/08/2020 20:05 (UTC)
scandalinbohemia: (Default)
From: [personal profile] 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.
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