#hipsterizzy

sorry these are drabbles and i changed the wording a bit :(

Jack knows that Rhys is going to try to stop him—he just doesn’t understand that Jack can’t let that last humiliation lie. Staying home means letting those bandits win, and he can’t stand the thought, even if he’d barely escaped the last encounter with his life.

Still, he doesn’t resist when Rhys grabs him by the wrist, eyes wide and disbelieving and angry, with force behind his fingers Jack’s never felt before. It takes him a moment to realize he’s using his cybernetic hand, warm metal digits digging into the flesh just above Jack’s tattoo.

“You can’t do this.” Rhys’ voice shakes with the effort of breathing, trying to steady the pace of his heart as it sends bells of alarm through his body. “This is stupid. This is suicide.”

And he’s right, probably, but to Jack taking down the bastards standing in the way is worth the risk of death—after all, is any action really heroic without something valuable on the line?

“This is the only way to make sure they learn their lesson,” Jack growls, tendons in his wrist flexing underneath Rhys’ fingers, but he only squeezes tighter. It almost hurts, stinging up Jack’s arm into injuries not quite healed. Like his body’s trying to get him to listen to Rhys, but he won’t let it convince him.

Rhys’ next tearful, shaking plea almost does, though.

Nice nice, I like it.

WHEN YOU’RE AROUND I DON’T KNOW HOW TO HIDE MY FEELINGS.  I COUNT IN BINARY, IN MY HEAD.  ZERO ONE ONE ZERO ONE ONE AND YOU COUNT CLOUDS. (WHILE YOU COUNT CLOUDS)

“If I didn’t know better,” Nisha purrs, dropping next to Wilhelm on the dusty outcropping. “I’d say you liked the poor kid.”

“He’s a good shot,” Wilhelm allows, tinkering with the fuses on Wolf.

“Yeah? Nothing to do with that ass, then.”

Wilhelm grunts. Nisha laughs and bumps his shoulder, and he looks where she’s pointing.

Tim’s face is outlined clearly in the starshine and the light from Helios, looking back over his shoulder as he sketches something out in the heavens for Athena. Nisha bumps his shoulder again; Wilhelm busies himself with circuitry.

Yeah. Like is - not the problem.

OK this fic is clearly about lies: the lies Tim tells to his brother, the lies he and Wilhelm tell to the world, and the lies Tim tells himself.

(Also this very clearly @jilldrawblog’s fake dating au, I’m just saying.)

His brother, that’s the big one; but anything to keep Jack off his back, right? Wilhelm seems agreeable enough and it’s worth it for the way Jack chokes on his beer when they show up with Wilhelm’s arm slung around Tim’s shoulders.

This is where it gets difficult, because Wilhelm’s arm around his shoulders doesn’t feel like a lie; it feels easy, comfortable, like they’ve been doing this all along and somehow Tim hasn’t noticed. He’s noticing now, though; noticing the way Wilhelm’s hand rests large and warm against his back, the way his skin feels cold when Wilhelm pulls away. Wilhelm makes this so easy; he’s calm when Tim isn’t, doesn’t let Jack get under his skin the way Tim does. It’s...nice, to have that kind of steady presence to anchor him against the rest of the world. Tim’s going to miss it when it’s gone.

When it’s gone - now we hit upon the lies Tim tells himself, things like just another week or two or just through the wedding next month or I have this under control. Tim’s never felt less in control than when Wilhelm comes out of the shower in their shared hotel room wrapped in only a towel - because of course they’re sharing, they’re dating, aren’t they? Only they’re not. Only everyone thinks they are.

Tim shakes his head as if that will clear the vertigo. It’s not -

It’s not a lie, he tells himself as he crosses the room deliberately, giving Wilhelm every chance to stop him. The first brush of his lips against Wilhelm’s are gentle, fleeting.

Wilhelm’s lips firm on his and his hands strong on Tim’s biceps don’t feel like a lie. Wilhelm’s mouth on his makes Tim forget that he’s pretending; and as he breaks the kiss to laugh as they stumble toward the bed, Tim thinks that the best lies have a grain of truth to them.

Tim can quit this any time he wants (and isn’t that the biggest lie of all). He just...doesn’t want to.

(Also because I’m the way I am, I would title it “But It’s Better If You Do(n’t)”)

HMMMMMMM

Bakery AU:

1) Tim periodically has to talk Jack out of making dick cookies. “This is a family bakery, Jack.”

2) At first, the bakery offers only drip coffee and tea. It’s completely coincidental that Jack buys and learns how to use an espresso machine after the hot lanky  grad student who haunts the corner window table laments that he misses lattes. Completely coincidental.

3) Rhys didn’t mean anything by it - it was an offhand comment - but he’s certainly not complaining when Jack brings him a perfectly crafted latte.

4) Almost perfect. It does have a dick drawn in foam on the top.

5) This is Jack’s idea of flirting.

I was Ravenclaw until the Pottermore shit came out and I finally gave in and did one. Now I'm Hufflepuff.

The bird is swooping around, trying to get at Tim’s lunch, when Wilhelm ambles over.

“Is this bird bothering you?”

“Clearly,” Tim says. He’s distracted, moving his lunch out of the way of a particularly close dive, when there’s a pow and an explosion of feathers and a few seconds later a faint, suspicious splash.

“Did you just - did you just punch a seagull?”

Wilhelm looks pleased with himself.

You know, I looked at this and immediately thought of @hyperiontrashbin‘s vault hunter au which I love dearly and intensely. I hope neither of you mind this little riff on it!

“You know, kid, you ain’t the first to try to light-finger me, but you might well be the luckiest.”

Rhys doesn’t feel lucky. The backseat of a bandit car had seemed like a good hiding place - until it had been commandeered by the very vault hunter he had pickpocketed before the shooting started.

“Saved me the effort of running you down, at least.” That grin could cut glass. “Like I said: lucky.” He snaps his fingers over the seat. “Now hand over the goddamn wallet.”

“I, uh.” Rhys wonders if this is what imminent death feels like. “I lost it.”