Prompt fics (1-3/13)
This all started when I noticed how very pretty sloppycronkite's icon is. (Sooo pretty.) The offer was made to share Exit 57 episodes so I could enjoy more pretty and I made the counteroffer to write a prompted ficlet for each episode loaded. (You can see them in their original form in the thread.) These are the first three ficlety things that resulted.
Title: Roving Packs Of Feral Hairdressers
Characters: Jon/Stephen
Word Count: 355
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language.
Author's Notes: See above.
Summary: Prompt was "Jon and Stephen meet during their college years, maybe?"
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Roving Packs Of Feral Hairdressers
"Whoa whoa hey! Hands off the merchandise, man!"
The taller, bespectacled man ignored his protests, hand still buried deep in Jon's hair. "Hm, you probably could get top dollar at a wig shop," he said thoughtfully.
"Uh..." Jon stared at him, too surprised to even try to swat the man's hand away. He could feel him squeeze.
"Yes, definitely," he said. "This? Is some high quality merchandise you're carrying here. You might want to take some precautions. Perhaps invest in a hat."
Jon huffed a disbelieving laugh. "Precautions against what?"
"Roving packs of feral hairdressers."
A crazy man was squeezing his hair. Jon decided to play along.
"Are they prevalent in this area?" he asked in the most serious tone he could manage.
The man raised an eyebrow and said gravely, "You can tell where they've marked their territory by the smell of hairspray. They'll have you shaved and trimmed in a minute flat if you're not careful."
Jon bit his lip, trying not to laugh. "Sounds uh, dangerous. Sadly, I left my yarmulke on campus."
"There're reasons Halakha calls for your people to wear protective headgear," the man said sternly. "It's to protect the fragile beauty of the Jewfro from those envious of its glory." At Jon's startled look, the serious expression dropped away and he almost looked sheepish. "Comparative Religion class."
A giggle finally escaped Jon and he shook his head, not quite dislodging the man's hand but loosening his hold. He stuck out a hand. "Jon."
The man awkwardly took it with the hand not in Jon's hair and gave it a firm shake. "Stephen."
"I thank you for your concern over the, ah, safety of my hair, Stephen."
Stephen gave a solemn nod. "I feel duty-bound, Jon, to accompany you and protect it should we wander into the territory of any rabid barbers." He shot Jon a tragic, earnest look. "You wouldn't even know your doom was sealed until you heard the ominous sound of clippers on all sides."
Giggling again, Jon batted Stephen's hand away from his head. "Seriously, man, get the fuck outta there."
"You know you love it."
-----
Title: On The House
Characters: Jon/Stephen
Word Count: 1346
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, innuendo, sexual situations.
Author's Notes: See above.
Summary: Fake cut to where I previously posted this, because the prompts " Jon/Stephen in some sort of blue-collar AU?" and " drunkenness. Or just alcohol, in general." combined and then grew.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
( One of THOSE days )
-----
Title: Lunch
Characters: Jon/Stephen
Word Count: 321
Rating: PG-13?
Warnings: Language.
Author's Notes: See above.
Summary: Prompt was "Jon and Stephen get stuck somewhere. Desert island, rooftop of the TDS building, someone locks them inside a closet ... anywhere of your choosing."
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Lunch
"Are you really, really, really sure the window is locked?"
Stephen glanced up at the hysterical edge to Jon's voice. "Really really," he said, straightening and hugging the wall from behind as he shuffled back over to the other man.
"Did you try breaking it in?"
"Shatter-proof, remember?" Stephen reminded him, wincing.
"Fuck!"
Back at Jon's side, Stephen gripped the man's arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Calm down, someone's bound to notice us up here soon. We've been missing for a good fifteen minutes and I at least have a meeting I'm now late for."
Jon's arm was shaking in his grip and Stephen tightened it, gently tugging as he slid down the wall to sit on the ledge. Unwilling to try struggling in such a precarious situation, Jon obediently sat next to him.
"What the fuck were you doing out here, anyway?" he muttered, pressing against Stephen's side.
Smiling wryly, Stephen pointed to a small paper bag sitting on the ledge on the other side of Jon. "Lunch." Poking Jon's shoulder with his free hand, Stephen made grabby motions toward the bag. "Hand it over, I'm still hungry."
Grumbling, Jon carefully leaned over enough to snatch up the bag, then shoved it at Stephen. Stephen let go of him to take the bag and rustle through it, pulling out a paper-wrapped sandwich.
As Stephen unwrapped the sandwich, Jon suddenly smiled. "Is that a BLT?"
"I had a craving," Stephen replied, grinning almost sheepishly.
Jon opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a gurgle from his stomach. Snickering, Stephen handed over half the sandwich and opened the bag further to reveal the wedge fries inside. Jon took the sandwich gratefully and stole a few fries from the bag.
"You know, if you wanted me all to yourself for lunch, you could've just said," Stephen teased.
Smiling reluctantly, Jon flicked the man's leg and stole some more fries.
-----
Title: Roving Packs Of Feral Hairdressers
Characters: Jon/Stephen
Word Count: 355
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language.
Author's Notes: See above.
Summary: Prompt was "Jon and Stephen meet during their college years, maybe?"
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Roving Packs Of Feral Hairdressers
"Whoa whoa hey! Hands off the merchandise, man!"
The taller, bespectacled man ignored his protests, hand still buried deep in Jon's hair. "Hm, you probably could get top dollar at a wig shop," he said thoughtfully.
"Uh..." Jon stared at him, too surprised to even try to swat the man's hand away. He could feel him squeeze.
"Yes, definitely," he said. "This? Is some high quality merchandise you're carrying here. You might want to take some precautions. Perhaps invest in a hat."
Jon huffed a disbelieving laugh. "Precautions against what?"
"Roving packs of feral hairdressers."
A crazy man was squeezing his hair. Jon decided to play along.
"Are they prevalent in this area?" he asked in the most serious tone he could manage.
The man raised an eyebrow and said gravely, "You can tell where they've marked their territory by the smell of hairspray. They'll have you shaved and trimmed in a minute flat if you're not careful."
Jon bit his lip, trying not to laugh. "Sounds uh, dangerous. Sadly, I left my yarmulke on campus."
"There're reasons Halakha calls for your people to wear protective headgear," the man said sternly. "It's to protect the fragile beauty of the Jewfro from those envious of its glory." At Jon's startled look, the serious expression dropped away and he almost looked sheepish. "Comparative Religion class."
A giggle finally escaped Jon and he shook his head, not quite dislodging the man's hand but loosening his hold. He stuck out a hand. "Jon."
The man awkwardly took it with the hand not in Jon's hair and gave it a firm shake. "Stephen."
"I thank you for your concern over the, ah, safety of my hair, Stephen."
Stephen gave a solemn nod. "I feel duty-bound, Jon, to accompany you and protect it should we wander into the territory of any rabid barbers." He shot Jon a tragic, earnest look. "You wouldn't even know your doom was sealed until you heard the ominous sound of clippers on all sides."
Giggling again, Jon batted Stephen's hand away from his head. "Seriously, man, get the fuck outta there."
"You know you love it."
-----
Title: On The House
Characters: Jon/Stephen
Word Count: 1346
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, innuendo, sexual situations.
Author's Notes: See above.
Summary: Fake cut to where I previously posted this, because the prompts " Jon/Stephen in some sort of blue-collar AU?" and " drunkenness. Or just alcohol, in general." combined and then grew.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
( One of THOSE days )
-----
Title: Lunch
Characters: Jon/Stephen
Word Count: 321
Rating: PG-13?
Warnings: Language.
Author's Notes: See above.
Summary: Prompt was "Jon and Stephen get stuck somewhere. Desert island, rooftop of the TDS building, someone locks them inside a closet ... anywhere of your choosing."
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Lunch
"Are you really, really, really sure the window is locked?"
Stephen glanced up at the hysterical edge to Jon's voice. "Really really," he said, straightening and hugging the wall from behind as he shuffled back over to the other man.
"Did you try breaking it in?"
"Shatter-proof, remember?" Stephen reminded him, wincing.
"Fuck!"
Back at Jon's side, Stephen gripped the man's arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Calm down, someone's bound to notice us up here soon. We've been missing for a good fifteen minutes and I at least have a meeting I'm now late for."
Jon's arm was shaking in his grip and Stephen tightened it, gently tugging as he slid down the wall to sit on the ledge. Unwilling to try struggling in such a precarious situation, Jon obediently sat next to him.
"What the fuck were you doing out here, anyway?" he muttered, pressing against Stephen's side.
Smiling wryly, Stephen pointed to a small paper bag sitting on the ledge on the other side of Jon. "Lunch." Poking Jon's shoulder with his free hand, Stephen made grabby motions toward the bag. "Hand it over, I'm still hungry."
Grumbling, Jon carefully leaned over enough to snatch up the bag, then shoved it at Stephen. Stephen let go of him to take the bag and rustle through it, pulling out a paper-wrapped sandwich.
As Stephen unwrapped the sandwich, Jon suddenly smiled. "Is that a BLT?"
"I had a craving," Stephen replied, grinning almost sheepishly.
Jon opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a gurgle from his stomach. Snickering, Stephen handed over half the sandwich and opened the bag further to reveal the wedge fries inside. Jon took the sandwich gratefully and stole a few fries from the bag.
"You know, if you wanted me all to yourself for lunch, you could've just said," Stephen teased.
Smiling reluctantly, Jon flicked the man's leg and stole some more fries.
-----