Waitingformylifetochange



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  1. Public Bookmark 38

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    The auctioneer cleared his throat. Silence fell, and Stiles’s nerves ratcheted up. “We have one more deputy on offer tonight, and I know one or two of you in particular have been saving your bids for this young man.”

    Stiles jolted at that—what? Somehow the thought that there were people who wanted to bid on him, specifically, was scarier than nobody bidding at all. He swallowed nervously.

    The auctioneer beckoned to where Stiles was standing. “Come on out, Stiles.”

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    16 Oct 2021

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    This is not Tyler’s apartment. He has no idea how he got here or who he’s sleeping beside, face hidden in the pillow. He’s been sitting up long enough to wake him, though.

    “Tyler,” he says, voice muffled and rough with sleep. “You awake?” He looks up with half-lidded eyes, dark hair a mess.

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    16 Oct 2021

  3. Public Bookmark 88

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    The thought of being Patrick's girlfriend hits him like a slap to the face, want so fierce in his gut he almost feels sick with it.

    And that's how it starts.

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    16 Oct 2021

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    It’s raining outside. Patrick can hear the patter of it against the floor-to-ceiling windows lining Jonny’s bedroom when he closes his eyes, muted slightly by the pulse of blood through his ears and the repetitive shush of Jonny’s ceiling fan. He swallows, throat contracting loudly in the relative stillness of the room. Fuck, he has no idea how he ended up here, naked, leaning back on the mountain of pillows against Jonny’s headboard, nervous sweat drying tacky on his bare skin under the fan’s lazy rotations.

     

    Jonny had invited him over for Xbox and beer, which was still weird as fuck to Patrick, to hang out at Jonny’s condo like they were buddies or something and Jonny wasn’t a guy that Patrick had been watching, idolizing, since he was a kid, pretty much.

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    16 Oct 2021

  5. Public Bookmark 99

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    Everything about Patrick’s body is so at odds with itself. Jonny sometimes gets caught up in the delicacy of Patrick’s wrists, his ankles, so fragile when Jonny circles them with his big fingers, and he forgets the way Patrick carries strength in his shoulders, banded all through his core. He’s tiny and fierce, the soft glow of his skin drawing Jonny deceptively in, masking all this energy quelled just beneath the surface.

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    16 Oct 2021

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