Advent Day 9 (White Pine Original Fic)
Dec. 9th, 2014 02:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
asphaltcowgrrlTitle: Advent Day 9
Fandom: White Pine Original Fic
Pairing: Travis Murphy/Ethan McDowell
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 639
Summary: A Christmas/New Year’s fic to help bump up the word count for 1_million_words. Wherein Travis and Ethan muddle their way through December and try to stay on Santa’s Nice List.
Author’s Note: Apparently I can’t write anything more than approximately 600 words these days. Hmmm… maybe dinner at Mama’s will change that? Also: maybe some smut by the time we're done here.
Day 9
“Arrrrgh,” the frustrated yell sounded throughout the house, followed by the stomping of a pair of large feet. “I can’t do this anymore!”
The sliding door rolling open and then slamming shut briefly drew his attention away from the newspaper spread across the coffee table. He was getting used to Travis’ near-deadline histrionics and all the drama that came with them, so he wasn’t too concerned. Picking up the paper, he attempted to finish the article he’d been reading when his lover had run through. When Travis didn’t return within a few minutes, he folded the White Pine Register and set it on the seat beside him.
“I’m going to start sedating him from now on,” he muttered, pushing to his feet and looking out the back door in an effort to locate his stressed partner. “Oh for the love of all things holy, Muprhy.”
Ethan slid the door open and stepped onto the porch. Looking over the railing, he frowned.
“I hate my life,” Travis said. “It’s going to kill me.”
“What’s going to kill you is the pneumonia that you’re going to come down with from lying in the snow in your boxers and not much else.”
“You don’t understand me,” he moaned from below the deck.
“I understand that you’re stressed and need a break,” he said, leaning over the wooden rail separating himself from his lover’s fate. “Come back inside, take a warm shower, and I’ll fix us some lunch.”
“That sounds good,” he admitted. “But what will that solve? Not my plot holes, that’s for sure.”
“Maybe not, but it’ll get your mind off it for a few minutes.” He looked at the snow covered steps and sighed. He was going to have to suck it up and freeze his feet off. Ethan came down the stairs and stepped carefully in the footprints left by his boyfriend several minutes before. “If you want, you can bounce your problems off me and I’ll see if I can help.”
“I don’t know if you can,” he lamented. “I’m not sure if anyone can.”
Something wet hit his face, causing him to look up at the grey sky. “It’s starting to snow again, Murph. Please come inside before I call your mother.”
Those heavily lashed eyelids fluttered in thought. Reaching a hand out, Travis blew out a disgusted breath. “Help me up. Mama will kill me if she finds me out here.”
Ethan figured it had less to do with his imminent health issues than it did the fact he was dressed in a pair of skimpy boxers and a baseball cap. Propriety was everything with that woman. He took Travis’ hand in his and gave a solid pull, helping to bring his lover to his feet. “I think those are my boxers you soaked,” he stated.
“Eh, you might be right,” Travis grinned, tugging on the hem. “I thought they were a bit short.”
As if that hadn’t been obvious by his booty hanging out the backside, but Ethan wasn’t going to mention that to him. Ever. The view, even as soggy as it was, was more than worth the loss of a pair of undershorts.
Besides, they were wet, right? And that means they’re going to be cold and uncomfortable and he’ll have to take them off before putting on a dry pair. Ethan laughed, thinking he might have found an alternate cure to Travis’ deadline-induced anxiety.
Following Travis into the house, he thought maybe all this writerly commotion wasn’t as bad as he made it out to be. He looked at his watch. Six hours before he had to be at work. They could get an awful lot uh… done… in six hours.
“Travis? Why don’t you change out of those wet boxers?”
Yeah, so maybe he had an evil streak, too.
Fandom: White Pine Original Fic
Pairing: Travis Murphy/Ethan McDowell
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 639
Summary: A Christmas/New Year’s fic to help bump up the word count for 1_million_words. Wherein Travis and Ethan muddle their way through December and try to stay on Santa’s Nice List.
Author’s Note: Apparently I can’t write anything more than approximately 600 words these days. Hmmm… maybe dinner at Mama’s will change that? Also: maybe some smut by the time we're done here.
Day 9
“Arrrrgh,” the frustrated yell sounded throughout the house, followed by the stomping of a pair of large feet. “I can’t do this anymore!”
The sliding door rolling open and then slamming shut briefly drew his attention away from the newspaper spread across the coffee table. He was getting used to Travis’ near-deadline histrionics and all the drama that came with them, so he wasn’t too concerned. Picking up the paper, he attempted to finish the article he’d been reading when his lover had run through. When Travis didn’t return within a few minutes, he folded the White Pine Register and set it on the seat beside him.
“I’m going to start sedating him from now on,” he muttered, pushing to his feet and looking out the back door in an effort to locate his stressed partner. “Oh for the love of all things holy, Muprhy.”
Ethan slid the door open and stepped onto the porch. Looking over the railing, he frowned.
“I hate my life,” Travis said. “It’s going to kill me.”
“What’s going to kill you is the pneumonia that you’re going to come down with from lying in the snow in your boxers and not much else.”
“You don’t understand me,” he moaned from below the deck.
“I understand that you’re stressed and need a break,” he said, leaning over the wooden rail separating himself from his lover’s fate. “Come back inside, take a warm shower, and I’ll fix us some lunch.”
“That sounds good,” he admitted. “But what will that solve? Not my plot holes, that’s for sure.”
“Maybe not, but it’ll get your mind off it for a few minutes.” He looked at the snow covered steps and sighed. He was going to have to suck it up and freeze his feet off. Ethan came down the stairs and stepped carefully in the footprints left by his boyfriend several minutes before. “If you want, you can bounce your problems off me and I’ll see if I can help.”
“I don’t know if you can,” he lamented. “I’m not sure if anyone can.”
Something wet hit his face, causing him to look up at the grey sky. “It’s starting to snow again, Murph. Please come inside before I call your mother.”
Those heavily lashed eyelids fluttered in thought. Reaching a hand out, Travis blew out a disgusted breath. “Help me up. Mama will kill me if she finds me out here.”
Ethan figured it had less to do with his imminent health issues than it did the fact he was dressed in a pair of skimpy boxers and a baseball cap. Propriety was everything with that woman. He took Travis’ hand in his and gave a solid pull, helping to bring his lover to his feet. “I think those are my boxers you soaked,” he stated.
“Eh, you might be right,” Travis grinned, tugging on the hem. “I thought they were a bit short.”
As if that hadn’t been obvious by his booty hanging out the backside, but Ethan wasn’t going to mention that to him. Ever. The view, even as soggy as it was, was more than worth the loss of a pair of undershorts.
Besides, they were wet, right? And that means they’re going to be cold and uncomfortable and he’ll have to take them off before putting on a dry pair. Ethan laughed, thinking he might have found an alternate cure to Travis’ deadline-induced anxiety.
Following Travis into the house, he thought maybe all this writerly commotion wasn’t as bad as he made it out to be. He looked at his watch. Six hours before he had to be at work. They could get an awful lot uh… done… in six hours.
“Travis? Why don’t you change out of those wet boxers?”
Yeah, so maybe he had an evil streak, too.
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no subject
Date: 2014-12-10 11:08 pm (UTC)Travis' freak-out is something I can relate to. Deadlines! LOL. Though I dissuade running through the snow barefoot. Now that's a stinger. Heh.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-11 09:50 pm (UTC)No kidding. Sadly, it's something we all can relate to, to a point. Hah! I wouldn't even know where to look for snow so I could throw myself into it.