ficcage!
First two of Lora's four away-prompts.
In the end, Trevor was left wondering where his shoes had gone.
His curls were badly tousled, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know what the stickiness along his neck was. And other places. Oh god. He resolved not to think about it.
Faint snores came from the figure sprawled on the bed. Trevor fumbled with his pants -- the belt had come unlaced. He didn't turn to look at the sleeping man. It had been alright when he was drunk and the dim light had forgiven the man his imperfect resemblance to Randal. Trevor walked barechested across the unfamiliar floor and twitched the curtains aside. Early morning, but not too early. Flat blades of sun went right through his eyes to scrape across the back of his skull.
He managed to find his shirt, tangled with the other's boxers. Trevor winced. He tried not to look too closely at the photos on the wall. His head hurt. Outside the concrete was hot on his feet. The sleeping man on the bed didn't notice Trevor's absence.
Tina's Birthday
Pete held Robbie upside down and scrabbled his fingertips over the boy's abdomen. Robbie was pink-faced from giggles, and his hair was still damp.
"Pete let him breathe!" Paul said as he sailed past. He wore a painted-on yellow shirt that proclaimed him a 'material girl' in rainbow sequins, and his favourite ruffled blue skirt. His hair was twisted up in an alligator clip and he had a smear of jam on his neck. "Did you want to lick the spoon?"
Pete hefted the giggling toddler over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. Michael was in the shower. Paul was bustling around finishing dinner (and desset) whilst Pete kept Robbie occupied.
"Depends on what's on it," Pete said. "You try to feed me tofu again--"
"It's cupcake batter!"
Robbie groped with one arm and grabbed Pete's nose. Pete blew on the boy's fingers, then slung him around and held him against his shoulder. Robbie signed "What?" and then, catching sight of the mixing-bowl in Paul's hands, held out both arms.
Pete swiped the spoon out of Paul's hand and licked it.
"Yep, cupcakes! Mm." He dragged it through the cupcake residue in the mixing-bowl and offered it to Robbie, who set to with great enthusiasm.
"Don't let him have any more than that," Paul said, and dropped the mixing-bowl into the sink. He rinsed his heands, tucked flyaway tendrils of hair back behind his ears, and glanced at the clock.
"You don't need to watch the clock so hard, you'll be able to hear them," Pete said. He wiped the jam off of Paul's neck and rinsed his fingers off. "I'm sure your mum'll like the dinner and the cupcakes and the flowers. She'll certainly be glad to have dinner taken care of, instead of having to cook!"
Paul rubbed his temple with the back of one hand. He made a helpless little grimace and waved one arm. Robbie signed "Dad? Okay?" He had batter on his cheeks and on the tip of his nose. Paul smiled helplessly and kissed him, wiped Robbie's face with a tissue, retrieved the spoon and dropped it into the sink.
Pete watched as the shorter man tried to control his face.
"Paul, man, easy. I know you want to give her diamonds and pearls, but you put a lot of work into this dinner. I'm sure she'd rather have all her kids in one place, and all fed and happy, than a couple of rocks."
Paul blinked rapidly; absently gathered Robbie's sturdy little body to his thin chest and hugged him. He cleared his throat, then just shook his head and brushed his cheek over the top of his son's head. Pete smiled a little and went to the sink to wash dishes, to give Paul a moment. Paul tapped his shoulder when the moment was up.
"Hey lean down," Paul said. Pete obediantly tipped sideways; Paul rested a hand on the top of his head and kissed his cheek.
"Leave the dishes and take Robbie okay?" Paul planted a noisy kiss on Robbie's forehead. "I need to get the cupcakes."
Pete grinned; grabbed Robbie and caught him in the crook of his elbow, upside down. Robbie squealed when Pete held him over the sink. "No no!" he signed.
"Pete you'd better behave!"
In the end, Trevor was left wondering where his shoes had gone.
His curls were badly tousled, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know what the stickiness along his neck was. And other places. Oh god. He resolved not to think about it.
Faint snores came from the figure sprawled on the bed. Trevor fumbled with his pants -- the belt had come unlaced. He didn't turn to look at the sleeping man. It had been alright when he was drunk and the dim light had forgiven the man his imperfect resemblance to Randal. Trevor walked barechested across the unfamiliar floor and twitched the curtains aside. Early morning, but not too early. Flat blades of sun went right through his eyes to scrape across the back of his skull.
He managed to find his shirt, tangled with the other's boxers. Trevor winced. He tried not to look too closely at the photos on the wall. His head hurt. Outside the concrete was hot on his feet. The sleeping man on the bed didn't notice Trevor's absence.
Tina's Birthday
Pete held Robbie upside down and scrabbled his fingertips over the boy's abdomen. Robbie was pink-faced from giggles, and his hair was still damp.
"Pete let him breathe!" Paul said as he sailed past. He wore a painted-on yellow shirt that proclaimed him a 'material girl' in rainbow sequins, and his favourite ruffled blue skirt. His hair was twisted up in an alligator clip and he had a smear of jam on his neck. "Did you want to lick the spoon?"
Pete hefted the giggling toddler over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. Michael was in the shower. Paul was bustling around finishing dinner (and desset) whilst Pete kept Robbie occupied.
"Depends on what's on it," Pete said. "You try to feed me tofu again--"
"It's cupcake batter!"
Robbie groped with one arm and grabbed Pete's nose. Pete blew on the boy's fingers, then slung him around and held him against his shoulder. Robbie signed "What?" and then, catching sight of the mixing-bowl in Paul's hands, held out both arms.
Pete swiped the spoon out of Paul's hand and licked it.
"Yep, cupcakes! Mm." He dragged it through the cupcake residue in the mixing-bowl and offered it to Robbie, who set to with great enthusiasm.
"Don't let him have any more than that," Paul said, and dropped the mixing-bowl into the sink. He rinsed his heands, tucked flyaway tendrils of hair back behind his ears, and glanced at the clock.
"You don't need to watch the clock so hard, you'll be able to hear them," Pete said. He wiped the jam off of Paul's neck and rinsed his fingers off. "I'm sure your mum'll like the dinner and the cupcakes and the flowers. She'll certainly be glad to have dinner taken care of, instead of having to cook!"
Paul rubbed his temple with the back of one hand. He made a helpless little grimace and waved one arm. Robbie signed "Dad? Okay?" He had batter on his cheeks and on the tip of his nose. Paul smiled helplessly and kissed him, wiped Robbie's face with a tissue, retrieved the spoon and dropped it into the sink.
Pete watched as the shorter man tried to control his face.
"Paul, man, easy. I know you want to give her diamonds and pearls, but you put a lot of work into this dinner. I'm sure she'd rather have all her kids in one place, and all fed and happy, than a couple of rocks."
Paul blinked rapidly; absently gathered Robbie's sturdy little body to his thin chest and hugged him. He cleared his throat, then just shook his head and brushed his cheek over the top of his son's head. Pete smiled a little and went to the sink to wash dishes, to give Paul a moment. Paul tapped his shoulder when the moment was up.
"Hey lean down," Paul said. Pete obediantly tipped sideways; Paul rested a hand on the top of his head and kissed his cheek.
"Leave the dishes and take Robbie okay?" Paul planted a noisy kiss on Robbie's forehead. "I need to get the cupcakes."
Pete grinned; grabbed Robbie and caught him in the crook of his elbow, upside down. Robbie squealed when Pete held him over the sink. "No no!" he signed.
"Pete you'd better behave!"