asphaltcowgrrl (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
asphaltcowgrrl) wrote2015-01-06 11:05 am
asphaltcowgrrl) wrote2015-01-06 11:05 am
Entry tags:
Shades of Wes: Marsala (Common Law Fic)
Title: Shades of Wes: Marsala
Fandom: Common Law
Pairing: Travis Marks+Wes Mitchell
Rating: PG
Word Count: 884
Summary: Wes reflects on his decision to refuse Travis’ request for a date.
Author’s Note: First task to the color challenge in![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
1_million_words.
Slipping on his new ivory dress shirt, his fingers deftly snapping the buttons into their respective holes, Wes watched himself in the mirror. He tucked the shirt into his charcoal grey suit pants and moved to his tie rack, debating whether he wanted to go with the standard navy with silver pinstripes or something more modern and exciting.
Hell, who was he kidding? He never went with anything modern and exciting, did he? It was why he was still living in this hotel room, alone, and Travis was screwing someone on the side. If he’d only been able to swallow his pride, admit to his loneliness, and just say yes, maybe he wouldn’t be giving himself the stink eye in the mirror this morning.
A spot of bright color caught his eye, something out of the ordinary poking out from under the navys, the greys, the traditional ties he wore day in and day out. Scooting the other, more boring nooses out of the way, he uncovered a cheerful purplish piece of silk. Running his fingers along the length, he wondered where it had come from.
With a shrug, he pulled it free from the mass of silk and cotton and other assorted materials and held it up against his shirt. Tilting his head to the side, he nodded, thinking that it would look nice with his new suit. If he was lucky, it might even garner Travis’ attention for a moment or two.
He would take whatever he could get these days.
“Wes man, wait up,” Travis called, jogging to catch up with him.
He stopped on the path leading to the precinct’s front door and waited. Not to mention watching the muscles move in his partner’s chest and arms as he skirted the milling civilians outside the building. It made him want to kick himself, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off Marks’ fit form, and he had a sneaking suspicion that Travis knew exactly that. At least it would explain the skin tight Henleys and form fitting jeans.
“You’re on time,” he noted, giving Travis an approving nod while surreptitiously taking in the entire sexy package. “God job.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Travis laughed, eyes lingering on Wes’ chest. “Hey, nice tie,” he said, reaching out to finger the smooth silk.
“Oh, this? Thank you.” Finding himself at a loss for words, he took a step back, watching his tie pull free of Travis’ tempting fingers. “I found it in my closet this morning.”
“Interesting,” Marks said. “What color is this anyway? Raspberry? Mauve?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, flipping the tie over to inspect the product tag tucked underneath. “It says marsala.”
“Huh,” Travis grunted, scratching his chin. “It’s more merlot than marasala, don’t you think?”
“Maybe not that dark,” Wes mused. “If anything, I’d go for pinot noir.”
“You two thinking about drinking already this morning?”
Wes startled at the sound of Jonelle’s voice coming from behind him. His heart clenched in his chest when he noticed Travis take a subtle step backwards, putting a more acceptable amount of space between them.
“Naw,” Travis spoke up for them both, “we’re just trying to decide what color Wes’ tie is today.”
“I told you, it’s marsala,” Wes reminded him.
“Hmm,” Jonelle hummed, stepping forward and taking the tip in her hands. “It’s nice, I know that much. Silk?”
He nodded and she smiled.
“Well, you know Wes. Always wearing the fancy stuff.”
He tried not to let the hurt the comment caused show on his face. “Yes, well, some of us do prefer big boy clothes, Marks.”
The medical examiner met his eye and winked. Letting go of his tie, she patted him on the shoulder. “Marsala, huh? That’s why you were discussing wines, I suppose. It’s definitely more of a raspberry color as far as I’m concerned.”
“That’s what I said,” Travis cackled.
“He did,” Wes added, seeing Jonelle’s disbelieving face.
“Well, what do you know? I will see you two in a bit. I have some information on your case, but I need to double check something first. Give me fifteen?”
“We’ll give you twenty,” Travis said before Wes could comment. “We need our morning caffeine injection first.”
“Alrighty then,” she laughed, waving and entering the building.
“And what makes you think I’m buying you coffee,” Wes grouched, knowing he’d buy Travis a coffee shop if he asked nicely enough. He hated himself a little bit more with each revelation.
“Because you love me,” he joked, setting off for the coffee cart a few feet away. “And besides, don’t you want to show off that sharp suit and crazy ass tie?”
More like he wanted to be seen on the arm of his partner, but knowing that confession would only get him even deeper into the hole he’d already dug, he decided to simply agree. The rest he would tackle later. “Whatever you say, Marks. Just get your coffee and let’s go so Jonelle doesn’t have our heads for being late.”
“Don’t you worry. I can handle our little medical examiner,” he said, stepping up to the cart and ordering them each their usual.
And god only knows, I’d love for you to handle me, too.
Patience, he reminded himself. You’ll get another chance if you only wait long enough.
Chapter 2: Classic Blue is here.
Fandom: Common Law
Pairing: Travis Marks+Wes Mitchell
Rating: PG
Word Count: 884
Summary: Wes reflects on his decision to refuse Travis’ request for a date.
Author’s Note: First task to the color challenge in
1_million_words.Slipping on his new ivory dress shirt, his fingers deftly snapping the buttons into their respective holes, Wes watched himself in the mirror. He tucked the shirt into his charcoal grey suit pants and moved to his tie rack, debating whether he wanted to go with the standard navy with silver pinstripes or something more modern and exciting.
Hell, who was he kidding? He never went with anything modern and exciting, did he? It was why he was still living in this hotel room, alone, and Travis was screwing someone on the side. If he’d only been able to swallow his pride, admit to his loneliness, and just say yes, maybe he wouldn’t be giving himself the stink eye in the mirror this morning.
A spot of bright color caught his eye, something out of the ordinary poking out from under the navys, the greys, the traditional ties he wore day in and day out. Scooting the other, more boring nooses out of the way, he uncovered a cheerful purplish piece of silk. Running his fingers along the length, he wondered where it had come from.
With a shrug, he pulled it free from the mass of silk and cotton and other assorted materials and held it up against his shirt. Tilting his head to the side, he nodded, thinking that it would look nice with his new suit. If he was lucky, it might even garner Travis’ attention for a moment or two.
He would take whatever he could get these days.
“Wes man, wait up,” Travis called, jogging to catch up with him.
He stopped on the path leading to the precinct’s front door and waited. Not to mention watching the muscles move in his partner’s chest and arms as he skirted the milling civilians outside the building. It made him want to kick himself, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off Marks’ fit form, and he had a sneaking suspicion that Travis knew exactly that. At least it would explain the skin tight Henleys and form fitting jeans.
“You’re on time,” he noted, giving Travis an approving nod while surreptitiously taking in the entire sexy package. “God job.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Travis laughed, eyes lingering on Wes’ chest. “Hey, nice tie,” he said, reaching out to finger the smooth silk.
“Oh, this? Thank you.” Finding himself at a loss for words, he took a step back, watching his tie pull free of Travis’ tempting fingers. “I found it in my closet this morning.”
“Interesting,” Marks said. “What color is this anyway? Raspberry? Mauve?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, flipping the tie over to inspect the product tag tucked underneath. “It says marsala.”
“Huh,” Travis grunted, scratching his chin. “It’s more merlot than marasala, don’t you think?”
“Maybe not that dark,” Wes mused. “If anything, I’d go for pinot noir.”
“You two thinking about drinking already this morning?”
Wes startled at the sound of Jonelle’s voice coming from behind him. His heart clenched in his chest when he noticed Travis take a subtle step backwards, putting a more acceptable amount of space between them.
“Naw,” Travis spoke up for them both, “we’re just trying to decide what color Wes’ tie is today.”
“I told you, it’s marsala,” Wes reminded him.
“Hmm,” Jonelle hummed, stepping forward and taking the tip in her hands. “It’s nice, I know that much. Silk?”
He nodded and she smiled.
“Well, you know Wes. Always wearing the fancy stuff.”
He tried not to let the hurt the comment caused show on his face. “Yes, well, some of us do prefer big boy clothes, Marks.”
The medical examiner met his eye and winked. Letting go of his tie, she patted him on the shoulder. “Marsala, huh? That’s why you were discussing wines, I suppose. It’s definitely more of a raspberry color as far as I’m concerned.”
“That’s what I said,” Travis cackled.
“He did,” Wes added, seeing Jonelle’s disbelieving face.
“Well, what do you know? I will see you two in a bit. I have some information on your case, but I need to double check something first. Give me fifteen?”
“We’ll give you twenty,” Travis said before Wes could comment. “We need our morning caffeine injection first.”
“Alrighty then,” she laughed, waving and entering the building.
“And what makes you think I’m buying you coffee,” Wes grouched, knowing he’d buy Travis a coffee shop if he asked nicely enough. He hated himself a little bit more with each revelation.
“Because you love me,” he joked, setting off for the coffee cart a few feet away. “And besides, don’t you want to show off that sharp suit and crazy ass tie?”
More like he wanted to be seen on the arm of his partner, but knowing that confession would only get him even deeper into the hole he’d already dug, he decided to simply agree. The rest he would tackle later. “Whatever you say, Marks. Just get your coffee and let’s go so Jonelle doesn’t have our heads for being late.”
“Don’t you worry. I can handle our little medical examiner,” he said, stepping up to the cart and ordering them each their usual.
And god only knows, I’d love for you to handle me, too.
Patience, he reminded himself. You’ll get another chance if you only wait long enough.
Chapter 2: Classic Blue is here.
no subject
I too love it when our baby is tortured. I also love it when it is super emotional and he can't seem to deal.
no subject
He's too easy to screw with, I think. He takes himself way too seriously at times. AHH! I'm so happy you love that because, well, that's me in a nutshell: super emotional and unable to cope. LOL