bsb366: January ficlets
For linear_flower: Brian/Nick prompt basketball.
Brian picks up the basketball from the floor of Nick's hotel room and tosses it lightly from one hand to the other. "Wanna play a little ball? The court in this place doesn't look too bad."
Nick doesn't look up from the TV from his spot on the couch where he sits in a comfortable slouch. He makes a noise resembling, "Iono."
Brian spins the basketball on the the tip of his middle finger. "C'mon, it's been a while," he persuades, glancing at Nick out of the corner of his eye while concentrating on his current trick.
"We can just watch a game on TV. There might be a Lakers game. Or a college game," Nick responds reluctantly, kicking his feet onto the coffee table.
It takes him a while, but Brian notices the distance not only in Nick's voice, but in his demeanor. His lips press against the other, forming a straight line. His face projects a blank expression. His eyes aren't the bright ocean blue they usually are, and Lord only knows what was going on in his head. Brian stops spinning the ball and takes a seat on Nick's left side. "You okay?" he asks, slowly reaching over to rub the back of his neck.
"Yeah, I just--" He pauses and lookes at Brian. "You think we can just ... just sit here? For a little bit?"
"Of course," Brian says softly. The lap that once held the basketball now cradles Nick's head with its comforting warmth.
For trumpeterofdoom: AJ/Nick, ice.
"Nick." I'm 25% awake, 75% not, 100% tired. So I just ignore him. Whatever he wants, he can either figure it out himself, or I'll deal with it when I wake up. Fully wake up, that is.
"Nick." What the fuck does he want? Can't he see that I'm sleeping? I turn my head so that my face is opposite his voice. I cannot be bothered right now, thank you very much.
"Nick." His voice is more persistent. Funny, I still don't care. I feel the space on the bed rise as he gets up. Excellent, he's gotten the point, and I can go back to being 100% asleep.
I fucking hate when I'm wrong. He moved to the other side of the bed. Of course he did. I open my eyes slightly and see that stupid new tattoo staring back at me. A naked devil woman, AJ? Way to make the world think you're still straight.
"Nick! I know you're awake." I just don't say anything. I am trying to sleep. Maybe if I just don't move and keep my eyes closed, he'll leave me alone. Shorty had them Applebottom jeans, boots with the fur--He left! If I wasn't so tired and supposed to be sleeping, I'd cackle victoriously. But I am tired and supposed to be sleeping.
I hear him coming back. Ugh, does he, like, never stop? I pull the covers over my head, you know, to try to give him an obvious hint. But the bastard just pulls the covers right off and--what the fuck?! I jump out of bed, ignoring the fact that I'm naked. "What the fuck?! Ice?! Really?!" The bastard just threw ice on my back. My bare fucking back. Goddamn, ice is cold.
AJ sets the now empty glass of ice on a nearby table. "Have you seen my phone charger? It's dead."
That's what he wanted? To know where his stupid Goddamn phone charger is? I just stare at him. Now I'm glaring, but I don't think he's understanding how pissed I am. I'm tackling that bitch to the ground.
Brian picks up the basketball from the floor of Nick's hotel room and tosses it lightly from one hand to the other. "Wanna play a little ball? The court in this place doesn't look too bad."
Nick doesn't look up from the TV from his spot on the couch where he sits in a comfortable slouch. He makes a noise resembling, "Iono."
Brian spins the basketball on the the tip of his middle finger. "C'mon, it's been a while," he persuades, glancing at Nick out of the corner of his eye while concentrating on his current trick.
"We can just watch a game on TV. There might be a Lakers game. Or a college game," Nick responds reluctantly, kicking his feet onto the coffee table.
It takes him a while, but Brian notices the distance not only in Nick's voice, but in his demeanor. His lips press against the other, forming a straight line. His face projects a blank expression. His eyes aren't the bright ocean blue they usually are, and Lord only knows what was going on in his head. Brian stops spinning the ball and takes a seat on Nick's left side. "You okay?" he asks, slowly reaching over to rub the back of his neck.
"Yeah, I just--" He pauses and lookes at Brian. "You think we can just ... just sit here? For a little bit?"
"Of course," Brian says softly. The lap that once held the basketball now cradles Nick's head with its comforting warmth.
For trumpeterofdoom: AJ/Nick, ice.
"Nick." I'm 25% awake, 75% not, 100% tired. So I just ignore him. Whatever he wants, he can either figure it out himself, or I'll deal with it when I wake up. Fully wake up, that is.
"Nick." What the fuck does he want? Can't he see that I'm sleeping? I turn my head so that my face is opposite his voice. I cannot be bothered right now, thank you very much.
"Nick." His voice is more persistent. Funny, I still don't care. I feel the space on the bed rise as he gets up. Excellent, he's gotten the point, and I can go back to being 100% asleep.
I fucking hate when I'm wrong. He moved to the other side of the bed. Of course he did. I open my eyes slightly and see that stupid new tattoo staring back at me. A naked devil woman, AJ? Way to make the world think you're still straight.
"Nick! I know you're awake." I just don't say anything. I am trying to sleep. Maybe if I just don't move and keep my eyes closed, he'll leave me alone. Shorty had them Applebottom jeans, boots with the fur--He left! If I wasn't so tired and supposed to be sleeping, I'd cackle victoriously. But I am tired and supposed to be sleeping.
I hear him coming back. Ugh, does he, like, never stop? I pull the covers over my head, you know, to try to give him an obvious hint. But the bastard just pulls the covers right off and--what the fuck?! I jump out of bed, ignoring the fact that I'm naked. "What the fuck?! Ice?! Really?!" The bastard just threw ice on my back. My bare fucking back. Goddamn, ice is cold.
AJ sets the now empty glass of ice on a nearby table. "Have you seen my phone charger? It's dead."
That's what he wanted? To know where his stupid Goddamn phone charger is? I just stare at him. Now I'm glaring, but I don't think he's understanding how pissed I am. I'm tackling that bitch to the ground.