Happy Halloween!!!
Title: Untitled
Rating: PG
Pairing: Leimes, back in action
Notes: Requested by morvena. She wanted a crackfic, and so she shall get one. It's roughly written and not proofread...
Leigh loved leaving me little messages on post-its. Sometimes they were pictures of cute animals, although once he drew a hermit crab battle royale that spanned the length of five multi-colored post-its. So when he left me a note about a Halloween party later that night, I didn’t think much of it. There was an 80% chance that he would forget about it within the next few hours away.
Of course, I was wrong. Leigh showed up only ten minutes later than he said he would, and he had the fake, bloody wounds applied on the side of his face, dripping down his neck. It smelled horribly sweet.
“Aw, come on James, you have to do something,” Leigh is horrible at convincing anyone to do anything. He couldn’t even talk an eight-year-old into ice cream if the kid already wanted it.
“Leigh, do you know how long it takes to get that latex goop off?”
“It’s Halloween, and it’s a party, and if you’re not dressing up, then you have to do something, just a little something such as paint your face in blood. Like me!”
Halloween is, of course, both our favorite holiday. Leigh and I both acted a bit more child-like than usual, but that didn’t entail me getting dragged around Leigh’s finger.
…Did I end up with plastic glass sticking out of my forehead and sugary goop all over my clothing? Of course, I did. When Leigh sat me at the kitchen table and pulled out the ingredients, I did nothing to stop him, because he flashed me that one smile that made me go half crazy and delirious.
We stayed at the party till after two in the morning, after which we stumbled along back to our place. On the way, we decided to take a break and sit in Washington Square Park, which was eerily deserted, even if it was 3 AM - there were normally at least a few crazy college kids around.
“Anddddd thennnnn Darrennnn,” Leigh started, breaking into laughter. His breath smelled unbearably sweet.
I was the more sober one, but not by much, but enough so as to expect I was thinking perfectly clear.
“James? James?!” Leigh was desperately clutching at my jacket, a visible pallor settling on his face. “James! Zombies! Zombies, man!”
“Whaaa-“
“James, get up!” Leigh tugged me up and tried to drag me on mostly unsuccessfully because I had to do most of the supporting. “ZOMBIES!”
Craning my neck to follow his gaze, I could see them. Dozens of them, all headed towards us, their primal stance and grisly run the most disturbing feature. From a distance, their skill looked yellowish, their clothing torn and blood covered, barefooted, and their eyes a blazing white.
“Shit, run man!” I yelled. Still clinging to each other, we awkwardly attempted to run while holding each other. The shock had sobered us both up, but somehow undid itself by scaring us into a different kind of stupor.
We could hear the horrible noises they made; we could hear them advancing on us, obviously incapable of moving anywhere together at a pace faster than a chicken nugget. At the same time, we were losing different items as we ran for our loves; first my glasses, then Leigh’s keys, and even one of his shoes.
“James! Building - there!” he gasped. It looked like a library - immense, and still well lit at odd hour. Practically throwing Leigh through the door, we bustled in, panting heavily.
“Are you alright?” I asked.
“If you’re asking if I left behind an arm or something, then yeah, I’m fine.”
It was then we noticed the curious gaze of the few people in the lobby of the building that served as our refuge. Some looked amused, others just pissed.
“Uh, sorry…” I said.
“Everything OK?” one elderly woman asked.
“Er, yeah, we’re fine,” Leigh answered.
“You poor dears, didn’t you see the signs?” she asked.
“What signs?”
“The signs about the shoot. They’re filming some zombie movie in the park.”
A/N: So, cracktastic? Good. This is based partly off my friend’s experience of walking home from the library late one night from the library and going through Washington Square Park when they were filming “I Am Legend.” She really did run away screaming because she was so out of it.
Title: Untitled
Rating: G
Pairing: Lawrence/Adam (yeah, it's been awhile)
Notes: THIS ONE IS NOT FINISHED, but I don't think I ever will finish it, so I'm posting it as is.
Adam hears the screams stories below him, all around him. He can hear them through the tiniest cracks in the walls, floors, doors…there is nowhere he can go to escape them. At one point, a scream so shrill and real, makes Adam want to run into the bathroom to vomit, but he doesn’t, because he doesn’t like spending any more time than necessary in there. When he showers, he does it as quickly as possible, and he never takes real baths anymore, too afraid to close his eyes and wake up in the dark.
Adam hears the lock click, and every time he stops to watch. Of course, it’s only Lawrence coming home from work, as he steps through the threshold, relocks the door, puts papers and charts down on top of the table, and sees him shrinking in couch opposite him in the next room.
“Adam…”
Lawrence rarely asks him if he’s alright anyway; there’s not much use for it, because he knows there’s not an answer. As a physician and a partner, Dr. Gordon hopes there will be one some day.
Sinking down in the couch with him, Lawrence wraps his arms around Adam and shifts him, folds him, against him. The physician in him remarks how tired his lover looks. Of course, Adam has looked underweight and sleep deprived for some time, but his eyes have never looked this dark.
“I know the fun has been taken out of it, but I brought you some candy,” Lawrence pulls a small bag out of his pocket.
“Is this for me, or the kids?” Adam jokes, but it sounds like a dead note.
“This wouldn’t feed one of those kids that lives next door,” Lawrence quips, and sadly thinks that it is more than enough for Adam. He thinks that Adam used to have a sweet tooth before, the same as his nicotine addiction. He nudges the bag into the smaller man’s hand.
“Thanks.”
Adam knows how much Lawrence cares for him; he smiles sweetly at him in thanks for the candy. His boyfriend has given up taking his daughter trick-or-treating to be with him. Adam hopes she at least stops by for a while; he knows she’s being a miniature Superman. She told Adam that she liked the shiny, red cape while he waited outside the dressing room at their local Halloween store.
“Want me to cook? It’s probably hard enough to get carry-out tonight,” Lawrence hobbles back into motion.
“No, Larry, it’s alright,” Adam follows him to the kitchen. “If I was hungry, I could fend for myself.”
“You know I don’t mind…”
“I know.”
Adam covers Lawrence’s hand with his and smiles, and this time it almost reaches his eyes.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Leimes, back in action
Notes: Requested by morvena. She wanted a crackfic, and so she shall get one. It's roughly written and not proofread...
Leigh loved leaving me little messages on post-its. Sometimes they were pictures of cute animals, although once he drew a hermit crab battle royale that spanned the length of five multi-colored post-its. So when he left me a note about a Halloween party later that night, I didn’t think much of it. There was an 80% chance that he would forget about it within the next few hours away.
Of course, I was wrong. Leigh showed up only ten minutes later than he said he would, and he had the fake, bloody wounds applied on the side of his face, dripping down his neck. It smelled horribly sweet.
“Aw, come on James, you have to do something,” Leigh is horrible at convincing anyone to do anything. He couldn’t even talk an eight-year-old into ice cream if the kid already wanted it.
“Leigh, do you know how long it takes to get that latex goop off?”
“It’s Halloween, and it’s a party, and if you’re not dressing up, then you have to do something, just a little something such as paint your face in blood. Like me!”
Halloween is, of course, both our favorite holiday. Leigh and I both acted a bit more child-like than usual, but that didn’t entail me getting dragged around Leigh’s finger.
…Did I end up with plastic glass sticking out of my forehead and sugary goop all over my clothing? Of course, I did. When Leigh sat me at the kitchen table and pulled out the ingredients, I did nothing to stop him, because he flashed me that one smile that made me go half crazy and delirious.
We stayed at the party till after two in the morning, after which we stumbled along back to our place. On the way, we decided to take a break and sit in Washington Square Park, which was eerily deserted, even if it was 3 AM - there were normally at least a few crazy college kids around.
“Anddddd thennnnn Darrennnn,” Leigh started, breaking into laughter. His breath smelled unbearably sweet.
I was the more sober one, but not by much, but enough so as to expect I was thinking perfectly clear.
“James? James?!” Leigh was desperately clutching at my jacket, a visible pallor settling on his face. “James! Zombies! Zombies, man!”
“Whaaa-“
“James, get up!” Leigh tugged me up and tried to drag me on mostly unsuccessfully because I had to do most of the supporting. “ZOMBIES!”
Craning my neck to follow his gaze, I could see them. Dozens of them, all headed towards us, their primal stance and grisly run the most disturbing feature. From a distance, their skill looked yellowish, their clothing torn and blood covered, barefooted, and their eyes a blazing white.
“Shit, run man!” I yelled. Still clinging to each other, we awkwardly attempted to run while holding each other. The shock had sobered us both up, but somehow undid itself by scaring us into a different kind of stupor.
We could hear the horrible noises they made; we could hear them advancing on us, obviously incapable of moving anywhere together at a pace faster than a chicken nugget. At the same time, we were losing different items as we ran for our loves; first my glasses, then Leigh’s keys, and even one of his shoes.
“James! Building - there!” he gasped. It looked like a library - immense, and still well lit at odd hour. Practically throwing Leigh through the door, we bustled in, panting heavily.
“Are you alright?” I asked.
“If you’re asking if I left behind an arm or something, then yeah, I’m fine.”
It was then we noticed the curious gaze of the few people in the lobby of the building that served as our refuge. Some looked amused, others just pissed.
“Uh, sorry…” I said.
“Everything OK?” one elderly woman asked.
“Er, yeah, we’re fine,” Leigh answered.
“You poor dears, didn’t you see the signs?” she asked.
“What signs?”
“The signs about the shoot. They’re filming some zombie movie in the park.”
A/N: So, cracktastic? Good. This is based partly off my friend’s experience of walking home from the library late one night from the library and going through Washington Square Park when they were filming “I Am Legend.” She really did run away screaming because she was so out of it.
Title: Untitled
Rating: G
Pairing: Lawrence/Adam (yeah, it's been awhile)
Notes: THIS ONE IS NOT FINISHED, but I don't think I ever will finish it, so I'm posting it as is.
Adam hears the screams stories below him, all around him. He can hear them through the tiniest cracks in the walls, floors, doors…there is nowhere he can go to escape them. At one point, a scream so shrill and real, makes Adam want to run into the bathroom to vomit, but he doesn’t, because he doesn’t like spending any more time than necessary in there. When he showers, he does it as quickly as possible, and he never takes real baths anymore, too afraid to close his eyes and wake up in the dark.
Adam hears the lock click, and every time he stops to watch. Of course, it’s only Lawrence coming home from work, as he steps through the threshold, relocks the door, puts papers and charts down on top of the table, and sees him shrinking in couch opposite him in the next room.
“Adam…”
Lawrence rarely asks him if he’s alright anyway; there’s not much use for it, because he knows there’s not an answer. As a physician and a partner, Dr. Gordon hopes there will be one some day.
Sinking down in the couch with him, Lawrence wraps his arms around Adam and shifts him, folds him, against him. The physician in him remarks how tired his lover looks. Of course, Adam has looked underweight and sleep deprived for some time, but his eyes have never looked this dark.
“I know the fun has been taken out of it, but I brought you some candy,” Lawrence pulls a small bag out of his pocket.
“Is this for me, or the kids?” Adam jokes, but it sounds like a dead note.
“This wouldn’t feed one of those kids that lives next door,” Lawrence quips, and sadly thinks that it is more than enough for Adam. He thinks that Adam used to have a sweet tooth before, the same as his nicotine addiction. He nudges the bag into the smaller man’s hand.
“Thanks.”
Adam knows how much Lawrence cares for him; he smiles sweetly at him in thanks for the candy. His boyfriend has given up taking his daughter trick-or-treating to be with him. Adam hopes she at least stops by for a while; he knows she’s being a miniature Superman. She told Adam that she liked the shiny, red cape while he waited outside the dressing room at their local Halloween store.
“Want me to cook? It’s probably hard enough to get carry-out tonight,” Lawrence hobbles back into motion.
“No, Larry, it’s alright,” Adam follows him to the kitchen. “If I was hungry, I could fend for myself.”
“You know I don’t mind…”
“I know.”
Adam covers Lawrence’s hand with his and smiles, and this time it almost reaches his eyes.