Evil Author Meme
Stolen from kuriadalmatia
Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.
Pick out the title that most intrigues you, or appeals to you, or whatever, and I'll post a snippet!
I'm sticking to my Criminal Minds folder, since those are the only works from the last year or so. Also I don't think many people watch ( Read more... )
Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.
Pick out the title that most intrigues you, or appeals to you, or whatever, and I'll post a snippet!
I'm sticking to my Criminal Minds folder, since those are the only works from the last year or so. Also I don't think many people watch ( Read more... )
Reid was currently working as a drink waiter, which turned out to be a much busier job than he’d expected. And surprisingly, he was a natural. He could easily remember even the largest, most particular orders and rattle them off to the bartender without hesitation. Once as he was turning away, he felt the bartender grip his ass and lean forward, murmuring, “Looks like you’ll be doing well here, pretty boy.”
And then to his relief, Reid saw Hotch walk in through the door and make his way to the back for one of the open single tables. He was still wearing his suit, but he’d loosened the tie and undone the top several buttons. His hair even looked more mussed than usual. He headed over.
“I haven’t seen anything in the back, but-” Reid started as he leaned forward over Hotch’s table, and then stopped when he saw the look on Hotch’s face. Intense. Focused. Focused on him.
Hotch leaned forward with a smile on his face that Reid couldn’t read. “Can I order a drink first?” he asked.
“Oh,” Reid said. “Um. Yes.”
“I hope you haven’t been saying ‘Oh um yes’ to all of your customers,” Hotch said. He paused, then chuckled. “Unless it was more like, “Ohh-umm-yes!’”
Reid glared at him.
Hotch kept chuckling. “Come on, I want to see how you’re actually taking orders.”
“Do I have to?” Reid asked.
Hotch leaned back in his chair and raised his eyebrows in a very Agent-Hotchner-Commands-You kind of way.
Reid swallowed, then forced himself to relax and let a smile play over his face. He sauntered around to Hotch’s chair and, sliding his hand onto Hotch’s shoulder, leaned in close to him. “Can I interest you in anything?” he murmured sweetly.
“I’d say you already are,” Hotch replied, slipping his hand around to Reid’s exposed waist and rubbing the skin. “But as for a drink… I’ll take a jack and coke.”
Reid blushed hotly. “I-I’ll be right back with that,” he stammered. As he turned away, he saw Hotch signal to the owner of the club. Reid would be waiting on his table alone for the rest of the night. It was something any customer could request of any waiter, providing there was enough help. The owner had already denied at least three men from reserving Reid, but now he pulled a dancer from the stage to take his place as floor waiter.
As he waited for the drink, Reid leaned up against the bar. The bartender leaned over to him. “That one looks like a good haul,” he said.
Reid looked up. “What?”
“That guy you’re serving. Suit-type. Hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since he got in here. If you play him right, you’ll be pulling in some large bucks. Just don’t give him too much all at once, lay off and tease for a while. Jack and coke up.”
Reid took the drink and stared at it. “Thanks,” he told the bartender, and made his way back across the room. He could almost feel Hotch’s gaze on him and just the fact that it was Hotch made him feel more exposed than he had the entire night.
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