Everwood Flash Fiction Challenge
Jul. 31st, 2003 12:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
corilannamUnbelievably, I actually finished something on time!
Here is my entry for the Everwood Flash Fiction Challenge, Male Slash Edition.
Title: The Losers and the Lost
Author: Cori Lannam (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
marzilla)
Pairings: Bright/Ephram, Harold/Andy
Rating: R
Author's Notes: This was written forsuperboris5000 for her request of B/E and docslash. Hope you enjoy it! And thanks as always to chelseafrew for the encouragement and beta.
“Please. Remind me what the hell I’m doing here?” Ephram stumbled over yet another tree root and narrowed his eyes at the giggling couple several trees ahead of them.
“Dude? Having fun?” Bright met Ephram’s glare with a cheerful show of teeth. Ephram could mostly tell when Bright was feigning obtuseness and when he was genuinely rock stupid. The jury was still out now, but when in doubt, Ephram always went with the second option.
“Was that actually a question? Because if it was, the answer is, really not.” He tripped over a hidden rock and yelped, hopping several steps to regain his balance.
“You better not break anything. I’m not carrying you back to civilization.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I would never dream of asking you to put down your beer long enough to save me from slow but inevitable death by hypothermic shock.”
Bright swung the cooler in his hand up over his head, letting the momentum spin him around. He did not, Ephram noted with a reasonable level of bitterness, find any rocks or roots in his path. “Well, duh, man. That’s why you go hiking. If there’s no beer, there’s no point.”
Ahead of them, Colin seemed to think he was being sneaky, pushing Amy into a small cluster of trees. Ephram jerked his chin towards the pair. “I don’t think beer is their priority right now.”
“Well, beer and sex.” Bright shrugged. “You have one, you get the other, I always say.”
“Do you?” Ephram muttered, trying to adjust the straps on his backpack and still keep his eyes on the ground in front of him.
“Oh yeah. You want to get the sex, you got to bring the beer.”
“Whatever.”
***
“I brought beer!” Andy Brown held up a clinking bag with a triumphant grin.
From his vantage point behind the narrow opening in his front door, Harold Abbott did not look impressed. “You brought me beer? Why?”
“So we could drink it while we play chess. Look, I came totally prepared.” The portable chess set was a little harder to display from where he carried it tucked under his arm, but he maneuvered it down into the hand that clutched the lighter bag of snacks without dropping anything, and held the entire collection up for approval. Some days, the dexterity of the brain surgeon had unexpected benefits.
“You brought beer and a portable chess set?” Harold did not seem as impressed with Andy’s thoughtfulness as he should have been, although the disbelief in his voice could be from astonished delight, Andy supposed. “What’s in the other bag? Pork rinds?”
“No, though I can go back to the store and get some, if that’s what you’re in the mood for.”
“God, no.” Ah, well. It had been worth a try. He considered making another offer, but Harold had already dismissed the subject to come back to his beverage choice. “Seriously, beer? You want me to drink beer while playing chess with you?”
“It’s good beer. At least, that’s what Mac at the liquor store told me.” He tried to get the bag open to look, but he only had so many fingers. “Blue something. It’s Canadian. Sounded sort of snooty, sort of woodsy.”
“Your complete ignorance on the subject explains a great deal.” Harold rolled his eyes one more time, but finally swung the door open to let Andy in. “You might as well stay. I have wine, and a real chessboard. Rose is at a meeting, and the kids are out hiking.”
“Yeah, I knew that,” Andy said, handing him the beer as he stepped inside.
***
“We aren’t lost.”
“No, numbskull, we are lost. Because you had to stop and try to hunt a squirrel by throwing rocks at it.”
Bright shrugged. “My aim’s usually a lot better than that. Anyway, whatever. Amy has a compass and a map.”
“Okay, yes, she does,” Ephram said, very slowly. “But tell me, Bright. Do you see Amy anywhere around here? Do you hear her? Has there been a single fucking sign of her existence anywhere for the last hour we’ve been walking?”
“Well, no. But that’s no reason for that kind of language.” Bright leveled a reproving stare on him that would have been better suited coming from his grandmother. Except that Ephram knew Bright’s grandmother pretty well, and he had learned a lot of interesting phrases from her. “They’ll wait for us to catch up, eventually. After all, we have the beer.”
In that moment, Bright’s enormous, dopey, delusional grin was too much to take – as were the blisters forming under Ephram’s socks. He shrugged off his backpack, then flung it and himself down under the nearest pine tree. “I don’t think they really want us to catch up, dude. And I don’t think they give a damn about the beer.”
Bright flopped down on a pile of pine needles a few feet away. “Yeah, I guess. Hey, what about you?”
“I don’t have a compass or a map, and despite my dad’s best efforts, the whole outdoorsy woodsman thing never really took. I can’t get us back any better than you could. And no way are we getting a cell signal out here.”
“No, I meant, you want a beer?”
Ephram scrutinized the can Bright was holding out to him. The ice in the cooler had melted hours ago, so the beer was probably warm and more disgusting than usual. He was lost in the woods with Bright Abbott, separated from the two people on this trip that he actually cared about, with no means of finding them or the way back, and Bright was offering him a beer. “Yeah,” he said finally. “Yeah, I really do.”
***
“I really don’t—well, all right, if you insist.” Andy took a sip from the glass of wine that Harold had shoved into his hand without ceremony. It was a Cabernet Sauvignon, of recent vintage unless he missed his guess, which he rarely did. It reminded him of conference receptions and intimate parties of a hundred or more given in his honor. All in all, he would rather have had the beer.
“There, now that is the drink of two grown men having a sophisticated afternoon of conversation and gamesmanship,” Harold said with satisfaction as he herded Andy into his study where his chess set stood ready for action.
“Okay,” Andy said, taking another amiable sip. “White or black?”
“Black. I don’t mind giving you the advantage.”
“Oh, Doctor, you should never give me an advantage unless you want me to use it.” He moved a pawn forward, as aggressively as one can move a pawn.
“Talk is cheap, O Mighty Doctor Brown. Prepare to be beaten within an inch of your life.”
Andy smiled.
***
“You know, I only came on this stupid trip in the first place because Colin asked me to. No, he begged me to.”
“Yeah, I know.” Bright tossed him another beer, and Ephram caught it and cracked it open one-handed. He was getting good at that. “I only invited you because Colin asked me to.”
“No, I mean, he really begged me.” He tilted his head back; if he just let the beer slide down his throat, it didn’t taste so bad. “He said he was still nervous about being with Amy. He wanted moral support.”
“Yeah, right! He just couldn’t decide which one of you he wanted to bone, so he was keeping his options open.”
“What?” Ephram jerked upright, felt his torso lurch forward as the forest spun around him. Whoa. How many beers had he had again? “What the hell did you just say?”
“Oh, come on,” Bright said, reclining against his own backpack, waving his beer in the air. “You know he’s got the hots for you, and I know you’ve got the hots for him. It’s not like you’re fooling anybody.” He stopped, frowned. “Well, maybe you’re fooling my sister. But she has issues.”
“She has issues?” Ephram spat – or tried to. His mouth seemed to have dried out. “You’ve got to be—“
“Dude. Don’t act all innocent, like you’ve never thought about it. I’ve seen the way you stare at him.”
Bright was leaning forward now, his face way closer than Ephram was really comfortable with under the circumstances. He noticed, with a sudden bizarre clarity of vision, that Bright had only two empty cans next to him, while Ephram had at least five. He turned his head and tried to count them. One, two, three, four – oh, damn. One, two, three—
“You look at him like you’re thinking about having his lips wrapped around your dick,” Bright went on, and Ephram’s attention swerved back to his companion, despite his frantic wish to ignore him. “Or maybe you were thinking about having his dick up your butt. You know about that, right?”
“Jesus, Bright,” Ephram swore, his voice quavering even to his own ears. “Geez, why are you talking like that?”
“Because we’re stuck out in the middle of freaking nowhere with nothing but beer and each other for fun, just because my best friend wants to get into my sister’s pants.” Bright frowned a little. “And yours, don’t worry.”
“God,” Ephram said, trying to push himself straight back against the tree. “You’re a lunatic. You’re totally – hey! What the hell are you doing?”
Bright gave the button of Ephram’s jeans another tug, and it opened. “You know what I’m doing. You’re not that much of a loser.”
“Oh my God,” Ephram said, and as Bright worked his zipper down and reached into Ephram’s boxers, got stuck on a mental and verbal loop. “Oh my God. Oh my God.”
“Hey, save the kudos.” Bright flashed him a grin that held nothing but evil. “I haven’t even started yet.”
Then Bright’s hot, slick mouth was on Ephram’s cock. Ephram’s head fell back against the trunk of the tree, his eyes rolled back, and he told his brain to get lost.
***
“You’re cheating! You are!”
With an exceptionally smooth move, even if he did say so himself, Andy captured Harold’s last bishop. “I am not.”
“You have to be!”
“Just because you’re losing doesn’t mean I’m cheating.”
“Maybe not, but I’m certainly considering it a good possibility.” Harold frowned at the board, then slid his only remaining rook across the board in a move Andy would have strongly advised him against, had he not been enjoying the process of beating the pants off the other man.
“You shouldn’t let your agitation guide your play like that,” he said mildly, taking the rook and setting up his endgame. “Check.”
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." A thorough survey of the board left Harold with one disgruntled move of his queen, and then it was over. "How did this happen? This is your fault."
"Well, I would hope I could take some blame for it, yes." He took a quiet, beaming delight in slowly tipping over the black king. "Ah. That was good."
"You distracted me."
"Well, yes."
"Why do I let you distract me?"
"You've had a lot of wine, for one thing. And also, you want to have sex with me."
Harold had his glass at his mouth, and the resultant choking fit was impressive. Andy reached over to pound him on the back, but Harold shied away. "Don't touch me, you raving lunatic! And what the hell are you blathering about?"
"I think it's pretty clear that your baseless, continual aggressive behavior toward me is the outlet you've chosen for what must be some pretty intense sublimated sexual urges. Clinically speaking."
"I do not! They are not!" Harold spluttered, his flushed face deepening to crimson mortification. "That's insane!"
"Well, that's what your mother told me, anyway," he said, studying his white queen with perfect nonchalance before replacing her on the board.
For a moment he wondered if he had gone too far. Harold's mouth opened and shut, but no sound came out other than a slight hiss, as though he were being strangled. "My mother?" he finally got out. "You got this…horrific piece of absurdity from my mother?"
"We talk about you a lot, you know." Andy gave him one last friendly grin. "You knew that, right?"
Harold's eyes narrowed, and he leaned across the table. "You are going to pay for this, Doctor Brown. You are going to pay dearly, in ways you could never previously have imagined, even in your demented cranium.”
Andy smiled. He moved his hand over a few inches and extended a finger. Slowly, the white king toppled over.
***
“Oh, God,” Ephram heard himself saying as he stared up into the branches of his tree. His body rested limp against the trunk, totally incapable of movement.
“Dude, flattering, but that’s all you’ve been saying for half an hour now.” Bright took a large swig of the last beer, swilled it around in his mouth, then spat it out onto the dirt. Ephram tried not to think about what else he was spitting out. “Aren’t you supposed to have some giant vocabulary, or something?”
“Or something,” Ephram muttered, knowing he had lost any advantage of superior intellect over Bright, permanently.
He could see Bright rummaging in his pack out of the corner of his eye. “Hey, look at my cell! I’m getting an awesome signal.”
“Do not tell me that.” Ephram rolled sideways and landed face down in a pile of wet leaves.
He heard two beeps, then silence. “Huh,” Bright said, then Ephram heard two more tones. A shorter silence followed. “Hey, Mom. Sorry to interrupt your meeting, but we’re kind of lost. No. Just me and Ephram. I don’t know. No. I don’t know if they’re lost, they aren’t here. I don’t know why, it just happened. Well, they got the map and the compass – well, yeah. Yeah, I guess. Sure. Well, okay. Thanks, Mom.”
The phone beeped once more as Bright hung up. “What?” Ephram said without lifting his face out of the leaves.
“She said we had to be parked on the east side of the reserve, so if we just go away from the sun, we’ll hit civilization eventually. And if we don’t, she’ll come and find us after she gets out of the city council meeting.”
“Huh,” he said, pushing himself up off the ground, then winced. God help him, was Bright’s dimness actually a sexually transmitted disease?
They gathered up their trash and their packs in silence, then set off, more or less back the way they had come. “It was kinda weird,” Bright said after they had walked for a few minutes.
“You’re telling me?”
“No, not that. Well, that. But I mean, I tried to call my dad first just now, but he didn’t pick up the phone. He always answers the phone when he’s home. It’s like a compulsion.”
“Maybe he’s not home. Or maybe he’s busy.”
Bright snorted. “Busy? With what?”
Ephram shrugged, and they walked on.
THE END
Here is my entry for the Everwood Flash Fiction Challenge, Male Slash Edition.
Title: The Losers and the Lost
Author: Cori Lannam (
marzilla)Pairings: Bright/Ephram, Harold/Andy
Rating: R
Author's Notes: This was written for
superboris5000 for her request of B/E and docslash. Hope you enjoy it! And thanks as always to chelseafrew for the encouragement and beta.“Please. Remind me what the hell I’m doing here?” Ephram stumbled over yet another tree root and narrowed his eyes at the giggling couple several trees ahead of them.
“Dude? Having fun?” Bright met Ephram’s glare with a cheerful show of teeth. Ephram could mostly tell when Bright was feigning obtuseness and when he was genuinely rock stupid. The jury was still out now, but when in doubt, Ephram always went with the second option.
“Was that actually a question? Because if it was, the answer is, really not.” He tripped over a hidden rock and yelped, hopping several steps to regain his balance.
“You better not break anything. I’m not carrying you back to civilization.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I would never dream of asking you to put down your beer long enough to save me from slow but inevitable death by hypothermic shock.”
Bright swung the cooler in his hand up over his head, letting the momentum spin him around. He did not, Ephram noted with a reasonable level of bitterness, find any rocks or roots in his path. “Well, duh, man. That’s why you go hiking. If there’s no beer, there’s no point.”
Ahead of them, Colin seemed to think he was being sneaky, pushing Amy into a small cluster of trees. Ephram jerked his chin towards the pair. “I don’t think beer is their priority right now.”
“Well, beer and sex.” Bright shrugged. “You have one, you get the other, I always say.”
“Do you?” Ephram muttered, trying to adjust the straps on his backpack and still keep his eyes on the ground in front of him.
“Oh yeah. You want to get the sex, you got to bring the beer.”
“Whatever.”
***
“I brought beer!” Andy Brown held up a clinking bag with a triumphant grin.
From his vantage point behind the narrow opening in his front door, Harold Abbott did not look impressed. “You brought me beer? Why?”
“So we could drink it while we play chess. Look, I came totally prepared.” The portable chess set was a little harder to display from where he carried it tucked under his arm, but he maneuvered it down into the hand that clutched the lighter bag of snacks without dropping anything, and held the entire collection up for approval. Some days, the dexterity of the brain surgeon had unexpected benefits.
“You brought beer and a portable chess set?” Harold did not seem as impressed with Andy’s thoughtfulness as he should have been, although the disbelief in his voice could be from astonished delight, Andy supposed. “What’s in the other bag? Pork rinds?”
“No, though I can go back to the store and get some, if that’s what you’re in the mood for.”
“God, no.” Ah, well. It had been worth a try. He considered making another offer, but Harold had already dismissed the subject to come back to his beverage choice. “Seriously, beer? You want me to drink beer while playing chess with you?”
“It’s good beer. At least, that’s what Mac at the liquor store told me.” He tried to get the bag open to look, but he only had so many fingers. “Blue something. It’s Canadian. Sounded sort of snooty, sort of woodsy.”
“Your complete ignorance on the subject explains a great deal.” Harold rolled his eyes one more time, but finally swung the door open to let Andy in. “You might as well stay. I have wine, and a real chessboard. Rose is at a meeting, and the kids are out hiking.”
“Yeah, I knew that,” Andy said, handing him the beer as he stepped inside.
***
“We aren’t lost.”
“No, numbskull, we are lost. Because you had to stop and try to hunt a squirrel by throwing rocks at it.”
Bright shrugged. “My aim’s usually a lot better than that. Anyway, whatever. Amy has a compass and a map.”
“Okay, yes, she does,” Ephram said, very slowly. “But tell me, Bright. Do you see Amy anywhere around here? Do you hear her? Has there been a single fucking sign of her existence anywhere for the last hour we’ve been walking?”
“Well, no. But that’s no reason for that kind of language.” Bright leveled a reproving stare on him that would have been better suited coming from his grandmother. Except that Ephram knew Bright’s grandmother pretty well, and he had learned a lot of interesting phrases from her. “They’ll wait for us to catch up, eventually. After all, we have the beer.”
In that moment, Bright’s enormous, dopey, delusional grin was too much to take – as were the blisters forming under Ephram’s socks. He shrugged off his backpack, then flung it and himself down under the nearest pine tree. “I don’t think they really want us to catch up, dude. And I don’t think they give a damn about the beer.”
Bright flopped down on a pile of pine needles a few feet away. “Yeah, I guess. Hey, what about you?”
“I don’t have a compass or a map, and despite my dad’s best efforts, the whole outdoorsy woodsman thing never really took. I can’t get us back any better than you could. And no way are we getting a cell signal out here.”
“No, I meant, you want a beer?”
Ephram scrutinized the can Bright was holding out to him. The ice in the cooler had melted hours ago, so the beer was probably warm and more disgusting than usual. He was lost in the woods with Bright Abbott, separated from the two people on this trip that he actually cared about, with no means of finding them or the way back, and Bright was offering him a beer. “Yeah,” he said finally. “Yeah, I really do.”
***
“I really don’t—well, all right, if you insist.” Andy took a sip from the glass of wine that Harold had shoved into his hand without ceremony. It was a Cabernet Sauvignon, of recent vintage unless he missed his guess, which he rarely did. It reminded him of conference receptions and intimate parties of a hundred or more given in his honor. All in all, he would rather have had the beer.
“There, now that is the drink of two grown men having a sophisticated afternoon of conversation and gamesmanship,” Harold said with satisfaction as he herded Andy into his study where his chess set stood ready for action.
“Okay,” Andy said, taking another amiable sip. “White or black?”
“Black. I don’t mind giving you the advantage.”
“Oh, Doctor, you should never give me an advantage unless you want me to use it.” He moved a pawn forward, as aggressively as one can move a pawn.
“Talk is cheap, O Mighty Doctor Brown. Prepare to be beaten within an inch of your life.”
Andy smiled.
***
“You know, I only came on this stupid trip in the first place because Colin asked me to. No, he begged me to.”
“Yeah, I know.” Bright tossed him another beer, and Ephram caught it and cracked it open one-handed. He was getting good at that. “I only invited you because Colin asked me to.”
“No, I mean, he really begged me.” He tilted his head back; if he just let the beer slide down his throat, it didn’t taste so bad. “He said he was still nervous about being with Amy. He wanted moral support.”
“Yeah, right! He just couldn’t decide which one of you he wanted to bone, so he was keeping his options open.”
“What?” Ephram jerked upright, felt his torso lurch forward as the forest spun around him. Whoa. How many beers had he had again? “What the hell did you just say?”
“Oh, come on,” Bright said, reclining against his own backpack, waving his beer in the air. “You know he’s got the hots for you, and I know you’ve got the hots for him. It’s not like you’re fooling anybody.” He stopped, frowned. “Well, maybe you’re fooling my sister. But she has issues.”
“She has issues?” Ephram spat – or tried to. His mouth seemed to have dried out. “You’ve got to be—“
“Dude. Don’t act all innocent, like you’ve never thought about it. I’ve seen the way you stare at him.”
Bright was leaning forward now, his face way closer than Ephram was really comfortable with under the circumstances. He noticed, with a sudden bizarre clarity of vision, that Bright had only two empty cans next to him, while Ephram had at least five. He turned his head and tried to count them. One, two, three, four – oh, damn. One, two, three—
“You look at him like you’re thinking about having his lips wrapped around your dick,” Bright went on, and Ephram’s attention swerved back to his companion, despite his frantic wish to ignore him. “Or maybe you were thinking about having his dick up your butt. You know about that, right?”
“Jesus, Bright,” Ephram swore, his voice quavering even to his own ears. “Geez, why are you talking like that?”
“Because we’re stuck out in the middle of freaking nowhere with nothing but beer and each other for fun, just because my best friend wants to get into my sister’s pants.” Bright frowned a little. “And yours, don’t worry.”
“God,” Ephram said, trying to push himself straight back against the tree. “You’re a lunatic. You’re totally – hey! What the hell are you doing?”
Bright gave the button of Ephram’s jeans another tug, and it opened. “You know what I’m doing. You’re not that much of a loser.”
“Oh my God,” Ephram said, and as Bright worked his zipper down and reached into Ephram’s boxers, got stuck on a mental and verbal loop. “Oh my God. Oh my God.”
“Hey, save the kudos.” Bright flashed him a grin that held nothing but evil. “I haven’t even started yet.”
Then Bright’s hot, slick mouth was on Ephram’s cock. Ephram’s head fell back against the trunk of the tree, his eyes rolled back, and he told his brain to get lost.
***
“You’re cheating! You are!”
With an exceptionally smooth move, even if he did say so himself, Andy captured Harold’s last bishop. “I am not.”
“You have to be!”
“Just because you’re losing doesn’t mean I’m cheating.”
“Maybe not, but I’m certainly considering it a good possibility.” Harold frowned at the board, then slid his only remaining rook across the board in a move Andy would have strongly advised him against, had he not been enjoying the process of beating the pants off the other man.
“You shouldn’t let your agitation guide your play like that,” he said mildly, taking the rook and setting up his endgame. “Check.”
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." A thorough survey of the board left Harold with one disgruntled move of his queen, and then it was over. "How did this happen? This is your fault."
"Well, I would hope I could take some blame for it, yes." He took a quiet, beaming delight in slowly tipping over the black king. "Ah. That was good."
"You distracted me."
"Well, yes."
"Why do I let you distract me?"
"You've had a lot of wine, for one thing. And also, you want to have sex with me."
Harold had his glass at his mouth, and the resultant choking fit was impressive. Andy reached over to pound him on the back, but Harold shied away. "Don't touch me, you raving lunatic! And what the hell are you blathering about?"
"I think it's pretty clear that your baseless, continual aggressive behavior toward me is the outlet you've chosen for what must be some pretty intense sublimated sexual urges. Clinically speaking."
"I do not! They are not!" Harold spluttered, his flushed face deepening to crimson mortification. "That's insane!"
"Well, that's what your mother told me, anyway," he said, studying his white queen with perfect nonchalance before replacing her on the board.
For a moment he wondered if he had gone too far. Harold's mouth opened and shut, but no sound came out other than a slight hiss, as though he were being strangled. "My mother?" he finally got out. "You got this…horrific piece of absurdity from my mother?"
"We talk about you a lot, you know." Andy gave him one last friendly grin. "You knew that, right?"
Harold's eyes narrowed, and he leaned across the table. "You are going to pay for this, Doctor Brown. You are going to pay dearly, in ways you could never previously have imagined, even in your demented cranium.”
Andy smiled. He moved his hand over a few inches and extended a finger. Slowly, the white king toppled over.
***
“Oh, God,” Ephram heard himself saying as he stared up into the branches of his tree. His body rested limp against the trunk, totally incapable of movement.
“Dude, flattering, but that’s all you’ve been saying for half an hour now.” Bright took a large swig of the last beer, swilled it around in his mouth, then spat it out onto the dirt. Ephram tried not to think about what else he was spitting out. “Aren’t you supposed to have some giant vocabulary, or something?”
“Or something,” Ephram muttered, knowing he had lost any advantage of superior intellect over Bright, permanently.
He could see Bright rummaging in his pack out of the corner of his eye. “Hey, look at my cell! I’m getting an awesome signal.”
“Do not tell me that.” Ephram rolled sideways and landed face down in a pile of wet leaves.
He heard two beeps, then silence. “Huh,” Bright said, then Ephram heard two more tones. A shorter silence followed. “Hey, Mom. Sorry to interrupt your meeting, but we’re kind of lost. No. Just me and Ephram. I don’t know. No. I don’t know if they’re lost, they aren’t here. I don’t know why, it just happened. Well, they got the map and the compass – well, yeah. Yeah, I guess. Sure. Well, okay. Thanks, Mom.”
The phone beeped once more as Bright hung up. “What?” Ephram said without lifting his face out of the leaves.
“She said we had to be parked on the east side of the reserve, so if we just go away from the sun, we’ll hit civilization eventually. And if we don’t, she’ll come and find us after she gets out of the city council meeting.”
“Huh,” he said, pushing himself up off the ground, then winced. God help him, was Bright’s dimness actually a sexually transmitted disease?
They gathered up their trash and their packs in silence, then set off, more or less back the way they had come. “It was kinda weird,” Bright said after they had walked for a few minutes.
“You’re telling me?”
“No, not that. Well, that. But I mean, I tried to call my dad first just now, but he didn’t pick up the phone. He always answers the phone when he’s home. It’s like a compulsion.”
“Maybe he’s not home. Or maybe he’s busy.”
Bright snorted. “Busy? With what?”
Ephram shrugged, and they walked on.
THE END
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-07-31 04:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-02 11:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-31 05:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-02 11:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-01 10:51 pm (UTC)“Oh yeah. You want to get the sex, you got to bring the beer.”
“Whatever.”
***
“I brought beer!” Andy Brown held up a clinking bag with a triumphant grin.
This was the cutest transition, just brilliant!
I love Andy's scheming, his manipulation of the situation to get what he wants, his cheekiness in the face of Harold's insults. You've written both characters perfectly!
"Why do I let you distract me?"
"You've had a lot of wine, for one thing. And also, you want to have sex with me."
Heh. That's what I keep saying *g*
Harold's eyes narrowed, and he leaned across the table. "You are going to pay for this, Doctor Brown. You are going to pay dearly, in ways you could never previously have imagined, even in your demented cranium.”
Andy smiled. He moved his hand over a few inches and extended a finger. Slowly, the white king toppled over.
This was just...wow. If it's possible to shiver and squee at the same time, I just did it.
“No, not that. Well, that. But I mean, I tried to call my dad first just now, but he didn’t pick up the phone. He always answers the phone when he’s home. It’s like a compulsion.”
“Maybe he’s not home. Or maybe he’s busy.”
Bright snorted. “Busy? With what?"
Hee! Brilliant, just brilliant. When I read you were going to be writing Docslash, I knew it would be awesome. I love your characterization, and the way you've woven two stories into one. Ephram/Bright isn't my pairing, but you've come close to converting me. Great job!
no subject
Date: 2003-08-02 11:50 am (UTC)Thanks! That was actually my favorite bit, personally. :-)
I love Andy's scheming, his manipulation of the situation to get what he wants, his cheekiness in the face of Harold's insults. You've written both characters perfectly!
And thanks again! I do love these guys, and I'm relieved that I did their personalities justice.
Hee! Brilliant, just brilliant. When I read you were going to be writing Docslash, I knew it would be awesome. I love your characterization, and the way you've woven two stories into one. Ephram/Bright isn't my pairing, but you've come close to converting me. Great job!
*blush* Thanks! Boy, never thought I'd be converting anyone to Ephram/Bright! Ephram/Colin is my pairing of choice, but it's always fun to branch out. *g*
Thanks so much for comments!
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Date: 2003-08-04 11:29 am (UTC)I'm an OTP kinda girl, usually, and in this case that means lots of docslash (well, maybe not lots, but I think we've hit the 10 fic mark *g*). Ephram/Colin is next on my list, though, so I'd certainly read anything you wrote in that vein. Great job with the challenge!
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Date: 2003-08-07 10:54 pm (UTC)Once again, catching up on my commenting, as I'm a swimmingly bad and lazy person. But this was really good, I liked it. I like believiable Andy/Harold, that's a darn tricky thing to manage, but it worked!
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Date: 2003-08-10 11:05 pm (UTC)It's 1 in the morning and I'm not awake enough to praise this like I should so:
You: Awesome writer.
+
Bright/Ephram: Pairing I LOVE.
+
Andy/Harold: OTP, baby. You HAVE to love the docslash.
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= MAGNIFICENT!