Fic: Oz drabbles (various characters, PG-13)
This post is just an archive for the two drabbles I wrote for Oz Drabble Tree Needs a Hug at the oz_wishing_well community on Dreamwidth.
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Prompt: jealousy and possessiveness, from ozsaur
(Beecher/Murphy)
Word Count: 149
Studying the control station above, Beecher casually ruminated in a too-loud voice, "You want to know who I think would be a really good fuck?"
Hill glanced at Keller seated at the table next to theirs. "No, I don’t," he replied emphatically.
"Murphy," Beecher declared.
Hill sighed as Keller shot a bloodthirsty glare upwards.
"Love that beefy body," Beecher leered, "and his whole take-command attitude."
Hill shook his head as the tension in the air increased ten-fold.
"Just imagine Murphy shouting out orders in that sexy Bronx accent of his while his thick, meaty… "
"BEECHER! To the Hole! Three days!"
A stunned Beecher spun around to find a red-faced Tim McManus standing behind him. Amid confused protestations of innocence, he was quickly dragged out of the room.
If only he'd known that Keller wasn’t the only one in Em City consumed by jealousy and possessiveness.
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Prompt: blue bandana, from visionofblue
(Beecher/Gene--an Oz/Wet Hot American Summer crossover)
Word Count: 344
"C'mon, we don't wanna be late! They're serving chicken nuggets today!"
Harry grabbed Toby's hand and eagerly led him into Camp Firewood's Mess Hall. Toby gritted his teeth and thanked God that Parents' Day only came once a summer.
As Toby sat down, his eyes fell on a disturbingly familiar figure pushing a cart across the room. The fully-bearded man was dressed in a dirty cropped shirt and white apron, with a faded blue bandana tied around his head. But neither the facial hair nor the absurd outfit could disguise the fact that the guy was a dead-ringer for the late Chris Keller.
"Harry!" Toby hissed under his breath. "Who’s that coming toward us?"
"Oh, that’s Gene, the camp cook. He’s a little… odd."
"Odd?"
"Yeah. The counselors told us that years ago, before he came to Camp Firewood, he hit his head real hard and hasn’t been quite right since. Someone even said he had amnesia."
"You’re kidding."
"No, I’m not. There’s a ton of rumors about him. The older kids told us he’s a psychotic serial killer."
"WHAT?"
"Don’t worry, Dad. I’m pretty sure they just said that to scare us."
Gene reached their table and stopped. He stared at Toby, and Toby tried to counter Gene’s frenetic eyes with a steady gaze.
"Broke your leg and arm," Gene mumbled.
Toby’s heart stopped. "Excuse me?"
Embarrassed uncertainty fell over Gene’s face. Then he blinked hard and nodded toward the fresh produce on his cart.
"Broccoli, grown on a farm."
Toby looked at the vegetables. Smiling nervously, he replied, "Uh, sounds great."
Gene squinted at him, then walked away. Toby’s eyes followed him as he made his way back to the kitchen. He watched Gene place a head of broccoli on a cutting board.
Then, in one quick motion, Gene swung a large butcher knife through the air and sliced the broccoli in half. He looked over at Toby and gave him a familiar sexy grin.
Toby didn’t know whether to jump into his arms or run screaming from the room.
_________________
Prompt: jealousy and possessiveness, from ozsaur
(Beecher/Murphy)
Word Count: 149
Studying the control station above, Beecher casually ruminated in a too-loud voice, "You want to know who I think would be a really good fuck?"
Hill glanced at Keller seated at the table next to theirs. "No, I don’t," he replied emphatically.
"Murphy," Beecher declared.
Hill sighed as Keller shot a bloodthirsty glare upwards.
"Love that beefy body," Beecher leered, "and his whole take-command attitude."
Hill shook his head as the tension in the air increased ten-fold.
"Just imagine Murphy shouting out orders in that sexy Bronx accent of his while his thick, meaty… "
"BEECHER! To the Hole! Three days!"
A stunned Beecher spun around to find a red-faced Tim McManus standing behind him. Amid confused protestations of innocence, he was quickly dragged out of the room.
If only he'd known that Keller wasn’t the only one in Em City consumed by jealousy and possessiveness.
_________________
Prompt: blue bandana, from visionofblue
(Beecher/Gene--an Oz/Wet Hot American Summer crossover)
Word Count: 344
"C'mon, we don't wanna be late! They're serving chicken nuggets today!"
Harry grabbed Toby's hand and eagerly led him into Camp Firewood's Mess Hall. Toby gritted his teeth and thanked God that Parents' Day only came once a summer.
As Toby sat down, his eyes fell on a disturbingly familiar figure pushing a cart across the room. The fully-bearded man was dressed in a dirty cropped shirt and white apron, with a faded blue bandana tied around his head. But neither the facial hair nor the absurd outfit could disguise the fact that the guy was a dead-ringer for the late Chris Keller.
"Harry!" Toby hissed under his breath. "Who’s that coming toward us?"
"Oh, that’s Gene, the camp cook. He’s a little… odd."
"Odd?"
"Yeah. The counselors told us that years ago, before he came to Camp Firewood, he hit his head real hard and hasn’t been quite right since. Someone even said he had amnesia."
"You’re kidding."
"No, I’m not. There’s a ton of rumors about him. The older kids told us he’s a psychotic serial killer."
"WHAT?"
"Don’t worry, Dad. I’m pretty sure they just said that to scare us."
Gene reached their table and stopped. He stared at Toby, and Toby tried to counter Gene’s frenetic eyes with a steady gaze.
"Broke your leg and arm," Gene mumbled.
Toby’s heart stopped. "Excuse me?"
Embarrassed uncertainty fell over Gene’s face. Then he blinked hard and nodded toward the fresh produce on his cart.
"Broccoli, grown on a farm."
Toby looked at the vegetables. Smiling nervously, he replied, "Uh, sounds great."
Gene squinted at him, then walked away. Toby’s eyes followed him as he made his way back to the kitchen. He watched Gene place a head of broccoli on a cutting board.
Then, in one quick motion, Gene swung a large butcher knife through the air and sliced the broccoli in half. He looked over at Toby and gave him a familiar sexy grin.
Toby didn’t know whether to jump into his arms or run screaming from the room.