#dcsperados

Adam had barely gotten into the door, jacket only half shrugged off and keys still dangling from the door, when Bash had come to greet him. His husband looked suspiciously like a golden retriever which knew it had messed up while his family was out of the house.

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Harry didn’t like being made to feel like an old man, he was only in his late thirties after all, but social media still managed to turn his brain into that of an octogenarian who barely knew how to flip on the TV. He’d only gotten Twitter a few years ago after Randall kept pestering him about it (he’d wanted to save himself the trouble of sending Harry funny tweets over text), and kept avoiding Instagram until a month or two after he’d met Xan. Once he’d gotten Gwen to explain the intricacies of the app, mainly how it differed from Twitter, he fumbled through account creation and eventually managed to find himself in the deep, deep rabbit hole that was celebrity news. Scrolling through post after post about some starlet who managed to swing a role on a film that was “far above her talent”, according to the user @avalon4life, Harry stilled on a particularly popular post that sent a jolt of surprise right through him.

His own scowling, scruffy face was staring down at his ratty copy of Frankenstein in his hand as he walked, hand in non-book hand, down a London street with Xan. They had headphones in and was looking concentratedly forward, their mouth open slightly in what might be a thought. The caption of the post read: Not Quite Mr. Darcy. Harry frowned. He knew that less than ten minutes later they had stopped at a cafe and had laughed at a table about something stupid Harry’s brother had texted him. He knew that he was only unshaven because it had been the tail end of his two week holiday. He knew that Xandra only had headphones in because they were preparing for a new role and wanted to listen to a performance of the play. He knew that he was only reading so as to cause her less distraction. He knew all of this, but none of it translated into the photo. Harry’s frown deepened. Something was making the hairs on his arm stand up. He hadn’t even realized that anyone had been taking photos.

The next photo in the set had Xan once again in frame, but this time with their head thrown back in a clearly happy laugh. The man making her laugh however, was not him, but her ever-present co star. He was laughing equally joyfully, his handsome features on display. Harry’s grip on his phone tightened.

“Xan?” He hoped his voice didn’t sound too...hurt? Was he hurt? He’d had things written about him before, from scathing to glowing. He was used to tabloids and photos. But something about this...it set his teeth on edge and his stomach churning. Xandra’s fame was a level or two above whatever his was, and it had yet to sink in for him just how many people followed her life. And cared about it. And speculated about it.

“He’s... he’s...” she’s trying to get out okay but it all feels far from it. The hospital corridor lights are dimmed overhead, it’s way past visiting hours but no one has the heart to tell Celia to leave and then no one was brave enough to not let Lex in. "Alive,” is what she finally manages. 

The idea got into his head when Shauna from work announced she was getting married.

Fergus had mentioned it to Bash over dinner, just casually, since Bash had met Shauna and her girlfriend-turned-fiance at a works do once. They chatted about it briefly, then the topic of conversation shifted and Fergus didn‘t think much more of it. Shauna‘s engagement was forgotten over talk of what to do with the garden this spring and a possible weekend trip to the seaside.

In fact, he didn‘t think of it again until hours later when they were in bed and he probably should have been thinking of all sorts of other things, like the way Bash‘s eyes seemed to gleam in the dim light of their bedside lamp or how terribly close he felt to him with skin touching skin and hands exploring each other‘s bodies tenderly.

🔥 BRUH... 🔥  

Still Accepting!

actions | (dress): for sender to help zip up a piece of clothing on receiver

It was a cold. Simple as that. Cold and frosty, with snow heavy clouds threateningly hovering overhead. Harry stood in the front hall of the big house, pulling on his cap when Xan appeared from the library. They reached out for his jacket, waxed and green-brown, and fitted the zip together to pull it up. They patted his chest gently once they were finished. Harry gave them and smile and leaned down to peck their lips.