Fic(lets)!
All DC, all short and out of nowhere, all extremely sappy (what else did you expect?).
Title: The Best Part of Waking Up
Characters: Connor/Kyle, Arrowfamily
Word Count: 271
Notes: Yes. This is set in my nebulous but extremely happy universe where Ollie and Dinah are together and Connor and Kyle are together and they all live in a cozy brownstone with Mia and Roy and Lian (and Cissie, but she's not in this) and are cute. I would so buy that comic. A HUNDRED COPIES.
Connor is a coffee addict.
He doesn’t actually drink it, of course. Caffeine makes him jittery, and besides, he doesn’t really like the taste, at least not straight up.
Still, he wakes up early most mornings and pads silently down to the kitchen to brew the largest, strongest pot their battered and beloved coffee maker can handle. The linoleum is cool under his bare feet as the smell fills the kitchen and brings them filtering in; Ollie bright-eyed and bushy-tailed even before the first sip, Mia cranky and tousle-headed, Kyle fuzzy around the edges as he slumps into a chair.
Connor doesn’t love coffee, not for itself, but he loves knowing that Dinah takes hers with skim milk and Mia prefers half-and-half, that Ollie likes his black and Roy uses enough sugar to choke a yak. He loves the way Lian pleads and grouses by turn until Roy finally lets her taste it, and the horrified face she makes at the taste. He loves the color and the smell and the heat of it, his hand curved around a mug that he doesn’t drink.
Most of all he loves the taste of it on Kyle’s lips and tongue when he finishes his first cup and finally comes into focus. Post-coffee Kyle is warm and sweet and bitter at the same time and his sighs are still sleepy against Connor’s mouth. Connor leans into Kyle’s kisses, tucked into corners in the hallway from the kitchen to the shower, and meditates on coffee. It’s corny, he knows, but he can’t help noting how very similar it smells and tastes and feels like home.
Title: Let It Snow
Characters: Ted/Booster
Word Count: 507
Notes: I shoveled two feet of snow the other day. This was inevitable.
Booster’s still not really used to snow. Apparently they didn’t - won’t - have it in the 25th century; something about global warming and climate control and nuclear summer, of all things, and Ted didn’t really understand Booster’s explanation, mostly because Booster was giving it with his tongue hanging out of his mouth in an attempt to catch snowflakes.
What that means for Ted, though, is that the minute the snow starts to fall Booster bounds out the door like a puppy. In his haste he usually forgets something - coat, gloves, shoes - and Ted has to bring it out to him before he catches pneumonia, even though Ted would rather be curled up inside with a cup of cocoa and a good book and has never really forgiven snow for all the missed school in his youth. Booster would frolic until spring if Ted didn’t drag him inside after a couple of hours, and he barely gives the snow a chance to melt off of him before he’s out the door again.
This time when Ted goes out to collect him the snow has stopped falling, but not before reaching nearly to Ted’s knees. He slogs out towards Booster, who’s perfecting the fifth or sixth snowman he’s built today, the little freak, and pauses to scoop up a handful of snow.
“You spent all this time out here and you couldn’t maybe shovel a little?” Ted calls when he’s close enough.
Booster turns to answer and gets a mouthful of snowball. Ted grins. Okay, so maybe there’s something to be said for snow after all.
Booster wipes the snow from his face and he’s grinning like a doofus. At first Ted thinks it’s just the “Yay! Snow!” part of Booster’s brain making him do that, but he realizes a hair too late that no, it’s Booster’s about-to-pounce smile instead. He turns to run, but Booster hits him around the knees, one hundred percent football star, and sends him tumbling face-first into a drift.
Ted spits out a mouthful of snow, trying not to choke on his own laughter, and flings a loose clump at Booster as he rolls over. Booster ducks and pounces again, this time pinning Ted by the shoulders. He rubs a handful of snow into Ted’s hair until Ted knocks Booster’s supporting arm out from under him.
As an off-balance Booster whomps down on Ted, knocking the air out of him, Ted suspects this may not have been his savviest strategy ever. He’s about to poke Booster in the spot where he’s most ticklish, just below his ribs, when Booster kisses him.
Ted freezes, and not because of the snow. Booster’s lips are cold, but his mouth is warm, and the kiss is soft and wet and over before Ted can decide what he wants to do about it.
Booster pulls back. “Ha!” he says decidedly, but there’s a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. Which are, come to think of it, really extraordinarily blue.
Ted blinks, then smiles.
Maybe snow isn’t so bad after all.
Title: Legacy
Characters: Bart, Mia (or Bart/Mia, if that is your preference)
Word Count: 151
Notes: And THIS is the inevitable result of watching old Teen Titans cartoons on Boomerang.
"Speedy-O," Bart says one day.
Mia looks up from restringing her bow. "What?"
Maybe it's the yellow eyes - she still hasn't gotten used to those - but Bart manages to look intense even hanging backwards over the couch. "When I was on the Titans with Roy, he told me Wa - my cousin used to call him that. Speedy-O."
"That sounds just about dorky enough for Roy," Mia agrees, sticking her tongue out a little as she gets to the hard part. "What'd Roy call Flash?"
Even without looking at Bart she can tell he's grinning. "Twinkletoes," he says. "Flasheroo."
Mia snorts, totally unladylike, and Bart laughs. "All right, Flasheroo," she says, nocking an arrow to her restrung bow. "Beat this."
"Consider it beaten - " A twang, a blur, and Bart's back by her side, holding out her arrow. " - Speedy-O."
Hmm. She could get to like it.
Title: The Best Part of Waking Up
Characters: Connor/Kyle, Arrowfamily
Word Count: 271
Notes: Yes. This is set in my nebulous but extremely happy universe where Ollie and Dinah are together and Connor and Kyle are together and they all live in a cozy brownstone with Mia and Roy and Lian (and Cissie, but she's not in this) and are cute. I would so buy that comic. A HUNDRED COPIES.
Connor is a coffee addict.
He doesn’t actually drink it, of course. Caffeine makes him jittery, and besides, he doesn’t really like the taste, at least not straight up.
Still, he wakes up early most mornings and pads silently down to the kitchen to brew the largest, strongest pot their battered and beloved coffee maker can handle. The linoleum is cool under his bare feet as the smell fills the kitchen and brings them filtering in; Ollie bright-eyed and bushy-tailed even before the first sip, Mia cranky and tousle-headed, Kyle fuzzy around the edges as he slumps into a chair.
Connor doesn’t love coffee, not for itself, but he loves knowing that Dinah takes hers with skim milk and Mia prefers half-and-half, that Ollie likes his black and Roy uses enough sugar to choke a yak. He loves the way Lian pleads and grouses by turn until Roy finally lets her taste it, and the horrified face she makes at the taste. He loves the color and the smell and the heat of it, his hand curved around a mug that he doesn’t drink.
Most of all he loves the taste of it on Kyle’s lips and tongue when he finishes his first cup and finally comes into focus. Post-coffee Kyle is warm and sweet and bitter at the same time and his sighs are still sleepy against Connor’s mouth. Connor leans into Kyle’s kisses, tucked into corners in the hallway from the kitchen to the shower, and meditates on coffee. It’s corny, he knows, but he can’t help noting how very similar it smells and tastes and feels like home.
Title: Let It Snow
Characters: Ted/Booster
Word Count: 507
Notes: I shoveled two feet of snow the other day. This was inevitable.
Booster’s still not really used to snow. Apparently they didn’t - won’t - have it in the 25th century; something about global warming and climate control and nuclear summer, of all things, and Ted didn’t really understand Booster’s explanation, mostly because Booster was giving it with his tongue hanging out of his mouth in an attempt to catch snowflakes.
What that means for Ted, though, is that the minute the snow starts to fall Booster bounds out the door like a puppy. In his haste he usually forgets something - coat, gloves, shoes - and Ted has to bring it out to him before he catches pneumonia, even though Ted would rather be curled up inside with a cup of cocoa and a good book and has never really forgiven snow for all the missed school in his youth. Booster would frolic until spring if Ted didn’t drag him inside after a couple of hours, and he barely gives the snow a chance to melt off of him before he’s out the door again.
This time when Ted goes out to collect him the snow has stopped falling, but not before reaching nearly to Ted’s knees. He slogs out towards Booster, who’s perfecting the fifth or sixth snowman he’s built today, the little freak, and pauses to scoop up a handful of snow.
“You spent all this time out here and you couldn’t maybe shovel a little?” Ted calls when he’s close enough.
Booster turns to answer and gets a mouthful of snowball. Ted grins. Okay, so maybe there’s something to be said for snow after all.
Booster wipes the snow from his face and he’s grinning like a doofus. At first Ted thinks it’s just the “Yay! Snow!” part of Booster’s brain making him do that, but he realizes a hair too late that no, it’s Booster’s about-to-pounce smile instead. He turns to run, but Booster hits him around the knees, one hundred percent football star, and sends him tumbling face-first into a drift.
Ted spits out a mouthful of snow, trying not to choke on his own laughter, and flings a loose clump at Booster as he rolls over. Booster ducks and pounces again, this time pinning Ted by the shoulders. He rubs a handful of snow into Ted’s hair until Ted knocks Booster’s supporting arm out from under him.
As an off-balance Booster whomps down on Ted, knocking the air out of him, Ted suspects this may not have been his savviest strategy ever. He’s about to poke Booster in the spot where he’s most ticklish, just below his ribs, when Booster kisses him.
Ted freezes, and not because of the snow. Booster’s lips are cold, but his mouth is warm, and the kiss is soft and wet and over before Ted can decide what he wants to do about it.
Booster pulls back. “Ha!” he says decidedly, but there’s a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. Which are, come to think of it, really extraordinarily blue.
Ted blinks, then smiles.
Maybe snow isn’t so bad after all.
Title: Legacy
Characters: Bart, Mia (or Bart/Mia, if that is your preference)
Word Count: 151
Notes: And THIS is the inevitable result of watching old Teen Titans cartoons on Boomerang.
"Speedy-O," Bart says one day.
Mia looks up from restringing her bow. "What?"
Maybe it's the yellow eyes - she still hasn't gotten used to those - but Bart manages to look intense even hanging backwards over the couch. "When I was on the Titans with Roy, he told me Wa - my cousin used to call him that. Speedy-O."
"That sounds just about dorky enough for Roy," Mia agrees, sticking her tongue out a little as she gets to the hard part. "What'd Roy call Flash?"
Even without looking at Bart she can tell he's grinning. "Twinkletoes," he says. "Flasheroo."
Mia snorts, totally unladylike, and Bart laughs. "All right, Flasheroo," she says, nocking an arrow to her restrung bow. "Beat this."
"Consider it beaten - " A twang, a blur, and Bart's back by her side, holding out her arrow. " - Speedy-O."
Hmm. She could get to like it.