you can take my spine

Max unlaced her fingers and picked the journal up again. "Once we have combat out of the way, we can start building our characters more by what race they are. Mine's a half-elf."

“okay, yeah, i guess.” his fingers rubbed against his cheek as he thought about it, eyes drifting back down to the papers like the answer might magically rearrange itself into something less intimidating. “so, like, a short wizard?” he laughed a little, feeling silly the second it left his mouth, but not enough to take it back. honestly, the idea was kind of fun. small guy, big magic. that had potential, right? he felt anxious about this. but he tilted his head, brows pinching with genuine curiosity. “do the races of the characters mean anything?” a beat passed, and he glanced back up. “like, do half-elves get special powers?” god, he hoped that wasn’t a stupid question. it probably was, but at least he was trying.

he wasn't jealous. he liked this too much to be jealous. he liked watching archer get flustered and bright and desperate. he liked knowing that no matter how many people got their hands on archer tonight, it was dante's approval he was searching for in the crowd. dante felt more than heard the way archer's breath caught when his shoulders went tight for a moment. "i asked you a question." his voice went harder and maybe keaton was saying something, but dante could only pay attention to archer. "can you be good for me? or do i need to start asking keaton?"

he giggled when dante started walking over, the sound bright and nervous and already a little ruined. then he squeaked when dante settled behind him, heat creeping slowly up his neck as he hummed in delight and wriggled between the two of them. keaton, apparently, was very on board with whatever dante was doing, because the second archer shifted too much, his hands found archer’s hips and held him there. archer swallowed hard at dante’s words. i already told you what to do. should i start telling keaton what to do with you instead? oh. jesus christ. his hazel eyes went hazy almost immediately, lust and attention fixing him in place as dante kept talking. archer nodded, breathless and already too warm, only for dante’s voice to curl around him again. i asked you a question. can you be good for me? or do i need to start asking keaton? archer nodded faster this time. “no, no, i can be good,” he whined, even though some horrible, thrilling part of him thought the idea of dante telling keaton what to do was so – god. his heart raced in his chest, breathing shaky as heat spread through him all over again. “i can be good, baby,” he promised, voice tiny and breathless. he didn’t want to tear his eyes away from dante, didn’t want to stop looking at him for even a second, but if he was going to kiss keaton properly, he kind of had to. so his gaze lingered on dante’s for half a second longer, soft and desperate and so totally gone, before he turned back. his arms wriggled upward, bruised fingers tangling into keaton’s dark hair, and another giggle slipped out of him as he looked up at him. then their mouths met again, messier this time, archer melting into it with a soft little sound as he let himself get lost in the kiss. and he did like kissing keaton. he did. it was fun and warm and familiar in a way that made his chest feel light. but dante was behind him, watching them, and that changed everything. the thought of those dark eyes on him, taking in every little reaction, every sound… archer tried so hard to listen, and that sent heat straight through his stomach. he whimpered at the thought of it, unable to help himself. when he finally pulled back from keaton, his cheeks were flushed, lips parted, chest rising too quickly as he twisted enough to look back at dante. his eyes were bright and pleading now, all that bratty confidence softened into something needy. “baby,” he whispered, voice nearly breaking around the word. “i wanna kiss you too.” a beat, and then the whine slipped out, completely shameless. “please?”

archer's a little clumsy, and ben keeps putting out stumbling blocks. but it's fun. he's having FUN!! that counts for something, right ?? the bratty attitude and sharp glances had largely disappated. maybe it was because ben was right, maybe it was because he was caught on the fact that ben was nicer when he wasn't in front of the camera. he had always belonged behind it. behind the work. anything in front, and he felt decidedly out of his element. "hey !! you said the tea was your favorite !! i'm just makin' sure, short stack." ben's always been partial to a nickname, he's not stopping today. "ben glances at something in archer's hands, gear of some kind, and his brows furrow. the speed light is older. ben's pretty sure he's got one lying around, somewhere in his studio, that's a newer model. camera bag of his own, abandoned somewhere near levels and pencils and hanging supplies. they said they'd have someone do it, but ben never trusted anyone to actually get it right. he stalks over to his bag, and opens it. pulling his speed light out, and looking at archer incredulously. "you need to replace that fuckin' thing, also." he says it like it's obvious, but he's pretty sure every photographer has made it on old gear and the skin of their teeth before. "or at least for in gallery photography use this." he presses it into archer's hands, like it's not that big of a deal.l to him, it's not. and SURE, it's a five hundred dollar piece of equipment with a diffuser on it, but hey, what's money to the guy selling in christie's. heat settles somewhere lower in his abdomen when archer sighs and pouts. he likes the brattiness. but he's not looking to do too much too soon, so he doesn't comment. "come on, i'm not that bad." a beat, "what's the worst that happens ?? you get drunk for free ?? oh no !!"

he raised an eyebrow as soon as ben said it, and the attitude came right back like it had only been waiting for an opening. “short stack?” his voice came out incredulous, but the expression didn’t last long before it shifted into something more confused as he watched ben walk over to his bag. archer looked even more lost when ben came back and pressed the flash into his hands, like his brain had briefly stopped working and refused to explain why. he just felt uncomfortable holding it, too aware of the weight, the quality, the fact that it probably cost a whole hell of a lot more than anything he wanted to be responsible for. “i mean, yeah, i know,” arch said, tilting his head as he looked from the flash back to ben. “are you recommending this?” he laughed nervously, already holding it back out like it might explode if he kept it too long. but then he was groaning again, rolling his eyes even as a tiny laugh slipped through at the end. “i feel like it’s actually impossible for you to not be annoying.” a beat passed, and he mumbled, “i’m not gonna get drunk off one drink,” even though he absolutely had before. archer wasn’t exactly not a lightweight.

I was creative and ahead of my time

he flicks the cigarette off to the side. "c'mon, baby. before i change my mind and make you start actually posing for me."

heat spread across archer’s chest the second dante replied, and, for once, he didn’t have a clever comeback waiting. mostly because dante was right, and there was something embarrassingly intimate about being read that easily. archer could keep the mask up with almost anyone else. he was a brat. he liked to party and laughed loud enough that no one thought to look too closely. but with dante, all of it came apart in the most pathetic, lovesick way imaginable. people could probably see the fucking hearts in his eyes. dante definitely could, especially after saying what he thought was more fun. archer’s heart raced, and a little giggle slipped out before he nodded, because, yeah. that was really fun. maybe he was a little pathetic. he should’ve pushed back, should’ve given dante the same shit instead of staring at him like he’d hung the fucking moon. but dante looked so pretty with the afternoon light catching against his face, smoke curling lazily around him, and archer’s brain wasn’t interested in being useful anymore. he swallowed, shrugging like what he was about to say didn’t matter. “that’s why your music’s so popular,” he offered quietly. something real slipped into the words, soft and raw, and archer immediately shoved it back down before dante could look too closely. he took dante’s hand and let himself be pulled to his feet without resistance, fingers lingering in his for a second longer than necessary. his nose wrinkled when dante said he was paying, and a pout immediately pulled at his mouth. “i wouldn’t charge you.” a beat passed. “okay, well, technically, i guess you are paying me, but it’s not you, it’s the band, and – ” he caught himself rambling and snapped his mouth shut, humming out a small, irritated sound instead. his gaze wandered across the park like he wasn’t currently losing his mind over the fact that everyone with an instagram account would get to stare at dante looking like this. it was fine. totally fine. he wasn’t jealous of thousands of strangers. that would’ve been ridiculous. “let me edit them first,” he said, turning his attention back to him. “the raws never look as good, and i don’t need people thinking i’ve suddenly forgotten how to use a camera.” a beat, his grin returned, wicked and toothy. “you can fuck me while i edit them, though. save time.” archer squeezed dante’s hand, eyes bright. “i care a lot about productivity and efficiency. i’m a professional.” a beat passed before he shrugged again, pretending his heart wasn’t racing at the thought. “but, i mean, yeah. tacos are good.”

ben’s finger dragged along his waistband again, and archer let out a tiny sound, some irritated little whine that barely made it past his teeth. he wanted it. everything about the slow, deliberate way ben touched him made archer feel like he was going insane, and then, after a beat, when ben climbed onto the bed and settled above him, archer yelped in surprise. his hands pressed against him like livewire, tracing above his stomach, lingering over his chest, then settling beneath his jaw with a kind of control that made archer’s brain go fuzzy at the edges. ben’s thumb brushed against his bottom lip, and archer swallowed again, impossibly warm beneath him. he nodded, blinking away the moisture pooling in his eyes before it could turn into something more embarrassing. archer’s heart raced in his chest when ben spoke, and he forced himself to hold onto the words long enough to answer. “if it’s too much, i’ll say something.” his voice was quiet, but it was steady enough. or close. his hazel eyes traced the ink along ben’s neck, the contrast against his skin, the shape of him above archer like he took up the whole room without even trying. and all archer could think about was how big his hands felt against his jaw. how much bigger ben was than him. it shouldn’t have been so hot but he was dizzy with it. his gaze moved back to ben’s, and for a second, he just looked at him, breathing shallowly, face warm and eyes bright. then another petulant sound slipped out of him, helpless and annoyed, his frown deepening as his brows furrowed. he shifted before he could stop himself, impatience making his whole body feel restless beneath ben’s weight. the anticipation was killing him. worse than that, ben knew it. archer could see it in his face, in the way he lingered, in the way he made archer wait just long enough to turn every thought in his head into want. “hurry up,” archer muttered, but there wasn’t much bite left in it. not with the way his voice trembled – and it wasn’t like he actually meant it. this was making him feel insane, but he was having fun!! and he liked being a brat. sue him.

SHAMELESS 7.03, “Home Sweet Homeless Shelter”

"good," he said, voice low. "just like that." the words came naturally as the camera dropped from his face, bringing the cigarette to his mouth to replace it. "send those to me later."

he swallowed when dante reached toward him, moving his arm away from his eyes. he was so fucking endearing that archer didn’t know what to do with all the feelings crowding up his chest, especially when dante’s thumb brushed against his wrist. oh. delightful. warm. lovely. rude, honestly, that someone could be that sharp and still touch him like this. “i do listen well,” archer said, raising his brows at him, then letting them furrow as his nose wrinkled. “but only sometimes.” he tilted his head, mouth twitching like he was very pleased with himself. “that’s why i’m fun, isn’t it?” and people liked fun. people liked funny and easy and playful. if archer took the moment to think about it, he’d know there were probably plenty of other things people liked about him, but he was, like, insanely mentally ill, so obviously that was not where his brain wanted to go. the shutter clicked. then kept clicking. archer felt shy before he could stop it, all that teasing warmth going soft under his skin. he felt seen, which was terrible and wonderful and made his chest feel light in a way he didn’t fully trust. dante was behind the camera, capturing him in time, and archer didn’t know why that made him want to smile and hide his face at the same time. he shook his head when dante praised him, trying to shove all that vulnerable feeling back where it belonged. “how the fuck do you manage to make everything sound sexual?” he whined, even though he was laughing. “or am i just a fucking freak?” before he could sit in that too long, he pushed himself up and reached for the camera, taking it back like having it in his hands would make him feel less exposed. he thought about looking at the viewfinder. he wanted to, a little. wanted to see what dante saw, wanted to know if it looked anything like the way dante had been looking at him. instead, archer just looked down, thumb resting against the camera body. “i will,” he said quietly. then, a beat later, “do you wanna get food before we go back?? tell me what you like to eat.”

📸 + archer | @makemearobot

he kept his grip firm on archer,'s neck, fingers pressing just a little bit harder, too curious about how far archer would let him push. and then just a little harder when archer told him to shut up. "what'd you tell me to do? i thought you liked me, baby. is that how you treat someone you like?"

heat crept low in his belly when dante’s fingers pressed a little harder against his neck, and archer whined before he could stop himself. “i like you,” he said again, brows furrowing like the confession had personally inconvenienced him. he swallowed beneath dante’s hand, wriggling under his grip, and then, because apparently he had no sense of self-preservation when he was flustered, he was suddenly overcome with the urge to be annoying. “i like that you’re annoying,” arch added, grinning wide and toothy even as the pressure made his breath catch. his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and his free hand curled tight into the sheets, grounding himself in the fabric because everything else felt too hot, too close, too much in the best and worst way. dante made him feel like he was one sharp look away from falling apart, and instead of being normal about that, archer decided to make it worse. “if you don’t like it, do something about it.” his voice trembled around the edges, the words a little more confident than he actually felt. because arch knew himself. he knew how quickly he could unravel, how easily dante could turn him into a babbling little mess who forgot every clever thing he’d ever said. but he liked being annoying. liked pushing. liked finding out exactly how far he could go before dante decided to stop letting him get away with it. especially if being a brat got him what he wanted.