#drwlf

I'm totally not in the position to be doing this, but what's another drink, right? I mean, nothings going to happen. The day has been a living hell and truthfully, no one else has even bothered to catch my attention. I've been shooting into the abyss for the past hour and it's gotten sad. Even Kyle is starting to pity me.

Until...

Gabe is being annoying. An entire day of being poked and prodded will do that, though, and that’s exactly why he’s so bristly by the time it’s finally almost done. The muzzle does nothing to kill the intensity of his eyes. If anything, it might enhance them. Adoption event after adoption event, and nobody wants Gabe. Too expensive, too violent- there’s always a reason. So here he is, without a new home to go to, hungry, sore, and annoyed, not quite begging for Oliver’s lunch, but…essentially demanding it with a firm glare. He’s not cute about it like some are. He was clearly not built for this life.

"You're cut off, James."

"Oh come o-"

"Cut. Off. Bee! You catch that?" Piper's voice rang out clear and smooth, cutting through the music that was playing over the radio -- old rock that could have sounded better had the place invested in speakers that weren't a decade old.

The younger woman, cleaning up a table that had been left a mess, looked over and gave a thumbs up. "Got it!"

James, a man with too long of a beard and too deep of wrinkles to be pouting the way he did, groaned and opted to lay his face upon the admittedly sticky bar top. Drama queen. Piper shook her head before surveying the crowd. Busy, but just enough that it was entertaining rather than overwhelming. Quick eyes clocked drinks to see who had been served, expressions to see if there was trouble brewing, and-

A new face had saddled up to the bar. Piper wouldn't say she knew everyone who came through the bar, but Stony Point was small enough -- and her clientele was smaller still -- that she had a good mental list of who's who.

Her hands hit the bar, shoulders rolling as she leaned towards him and offered not so much a smile but a crooked grin. And it was that grin of hers that kept her, with her tattoos and piercings and dark makeup, from looking too intense.

"Hey rockstar. You drinking tonight, or are you looking for directions?" A genuine question, rather than something meant to insult.

prompts about getting undressed.

HE IS MORE THAN HAPPY WHEN THEY REACH THE SOFA. The hospital practically made Ted go out of his mind, and when the doctors finally cleared him to go home, his doctor boyfriend was right there to take him home. Teddy is stiff, but he settles semi-comfortably on the sofa, his clothes he had worn prior to his accident hanging on his frame. He'll let out a sharp exhale of breath, running his fingers through his hair with his unbroken hand when he feels Oliver's hands working the buttons on his shirt. "Whoa, hey now tiger," Teddy says grinning, but Oliver gives him a look that quiets him down, but he's still smiling fondly at his boyfriend.

The shirt is removed with a kind of tenderness and care that makes something catch in Teddy's throat as Oliver comes back with one of Ted's looser fitting tank tops so that he wouldn't have to mess with the sleeves for his broken arm. The pressure against his ribs is gone, too, and what had been unbearable pain getting his clothes on at the hospital ( he very stubbornly and very childishly said he could do it himself ) he had barely felt anything under Oliver's practiced hands.

His pants are the next to go, a slow tug off of his hips and Teddy is a little flushed, feeling equal parts warm and loved and embarrassed that Oliver had to dress him. Not quite in the headspace -- he's used to presenting himself as very much chaotically put together, but this was a tenderness and a softness that Teddy almost doesn't know how to sit with. "Ol, I can --..."

Oliver shakes his head, almost tutting at him as he taps Teddy's legs and Teddy will raise his hips obediently as Oliver slides on a pair of comfortable shorts onto him. He watches as the older man then raises Teddy's head and sits down, placing his down now on his lap, and Teddy exhales, calmer this time, looking up at Oliver with an almost sheepish grin.

She knocked twice and waited exactly four seconds before poking her head in the door. “Uh, Doctor? Wolf?” Receiving no response, she fully let herself in. “Hello? I was told to come to your office. You’re not, like, the principal, are you? Or…shooting a porn? Because in that case—“

The desk finally entered her field of vision. Jesus.

↳ @drwlf said [ hiding ] sender checks the area around them before kissing receiver, trying not to get caught (kids….)

           This was not how Spencer imagined his summer vacation would go.

          He knew he'd spend most of it with Oliver, that much was a given; he'd done so since they were children, since that first summer when their mothers had shoved them together hoping && praying their sons would make at least one friend, only for the 2 boys to become practically inseparable. They had been attached at the hip ever since, && when Oliver's family had moved back to the east coast just a short year && a half later, there had been a lot of tears. Ever since then, the two had begged their mothers every year like clockwork the very second school had let out to let one visit the other, && one mother ( typically Dianna, she had such a hard time telling her son no, ) would always give in.

          Then Spencer went off to Caltech when he was 12 && it became even easier to convince his mom to let him go off to the east coast first, before he came home. && now he's 16 with a license && doesn't even have to ask his mom anymore; they have an understanding — as long as he promises ( && makes good on said promise ) to visit Vegas before the fall semester starts, he's more than welcome to make his way up to New York first. Ocassionally, Oliver would be permitted to go down to Vegas instead, to visit with both Reids, but it was usually easier for Spencer to be the one to travel.

          All that to say, sitting side by side with his best friend, head tipped back to laugh at something Oliver had said, was par for the course. Expected. A situation he'd found himself in hundreds of times over the years. He's happy, carefree, not a thought in his head that didn't pertain to the other boy beside him, to all of the plans they had for the summer, to how content he'd be to just do this until he had to pack up && make his way to Vegas, && then back to California.

          What is unexpected is when he tips his head forward again, smile still lingering on his lips, && sees Oliver glancing around like he's looking for something. Spencer's head tilts to the side, smile giving way to mild confusion && curiosity, brow creasing; but just as he goes to ask Oliver what he's looking for, lips cover his own && his entire world screeches to a very abrupt halt.

          It's not that he hasn't thought about this a hundred different times since he was maybe 10 years old, not like there hasn't been a hundred different times he'd glanced over at Oliver && wanted nothing more than to close the distance. It's not like he hasn't laid awake at night back in his dorm at Caltech && wondered what this would feel like, what his life would be like if he had more courage && hadn't been burned before when he'd paid attention to the wrong girls && got a load of childhood trauma to show for it.

          It's more that all of that had been fantasy, a what-if, something he entertained when he was lonely && wished his only friend wasn't halfway across the country. It wasn't anything he had ever imagined for a second would become reality; not that he never wanted it to, God, he'd wanted it so bad it scared him sometimes.

          Something in his chest implodes as his eyes fall shut && his lips begin to move against Oliver's, something warm && sticky that coats the inside of his ribs && travels through his veins, syrupy && sweet && better than anything he's felt in his imagination, when he'd let it get ahead of him && theorize on what this would feel like. On that note, reality is so much better than fantasy; Oliver's lips are soft && warm against his own, && when Spencer scoots the slightest bit closer to reach out && rest one of his hands on the side of Oliver's neck, fingers splayed across the underside of his jaw, his skin is just as warm && soft. Everything about the moment is warm && soft, like his favorite blanket has been wrapped around his shoulders, comforting && warm && everything he's ever wanted.

          When they part, Spencer's cheeks && the tips of his ears have flushed red, && his lips part into probably one of the brightest, happiest smiles he's ever given anyone. He feels giddy, pure joy pouring out of every pore on his body to make the room almost appear brighter than it had been moments before. His eyes are alight, practically sparkling, lips parting to show teeth in his smile && he nearly has to suppress a giggle.

          No, this is not at all where he thought his summer would go when he'd first stepped off of the plane that had taken him to the east coast, but it's still the best summer he's probably had in his life, so far.

          There are a million different things he wants to say to Oliver, all tangled up in his thoughts && doused in a sweet, dizzying haze of nearly overwhelming glee. He could tell him how long he's wanted to do that for, could tell him how happy just being around the other boy makes him, how much brighter his life has been since that fateful day almost 10 years ago, now.

          In the end, all he manages is an almost embarrassingly giddy, ❛❛ Can we do that again?? ❜❜