Fic or Treat 2024: Ren's Door

[quillpunk]

ficortreat

Ren the Ghost's Door

DW username: quillpunk

Light is on for: Anybody :D

What's in the Bowl? Fic (drabbles-or-longer)

Let Me Know: Fandom + Pairing (or just fandom if you're fine with me doing whatever pairing I want <3), prompt if you have one :D (for example a premise, like 'trapped in the rain', or just a word, like 'rain')

Other info: I will not write sexual content, gore, underage, M/F or F/F pairings, and will not do anything that's on my usual DNW list (barring 1st person POV if I feel it works). I reserve the right to say 'no' to any request I feel I can't write/that makes me uncomfortable. If you've got DNWs for your request, you can include/link to them and I'll do my best to avoid them, as long as they don't box me in/contradict your request :)

I'm open to requests for any fandom/pairing I've written before on TisStrangerEerierAndPreposterousUsername.

I can also be convinced to try out a new fandom if; I can get my hands on the source material, it's short enough that I can consume it in less than a month (since this is a Halloween event! So for example probably not an eleven season tv show, LOL), it's a slash (m/m) pairing, and I think it's something that I can write for. That might not end up being the case! I might not be able to get my hands on it, or I might not be able to write for it, etc. I will let you know if I can't do your request :( You're definitely welcome to request something else in that case!

I particularly like horror, sci-fi, fantasy, mysteries, and sitcoms, if you want to ask for something I've never written before :)

Comments

[quillpunk]

a gift :D (also on ao3)

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"Huh," says Buck, tilting his head. This is the fourth pair of socks that has been tragically split up in this load of laundry, its partner nowhere to be found. Tilting his head further, he furrows his brows when he finds another mismatched sock almost instantly. "Huh," he says again, scratching at his neck.

"Something wrong?" Eddie asks, sticking his head around the corner.

Buck ducks his head and morosely spills the horribile truth. "I've lost like half my socks, at this point. I don't think I have any proper pairs left."

"Right," Eddie says, and Buck's brows furrow deeper. But Eddie adds, "I've been meaning to tell you, there's a pile of your socks at my place." Then Eddie walks into the laundry room and rests his hand on the small of Buck's back, and Buck shivers, gulping way too obviously. Eddie doesn't miss it, eyelids going hodded and eyes darkening, and Buck bites his lip. "Would you like some help?" Eddie asks, and he's looking at Buck. Just looking at him, and yet it's enough to send Buck's heart into overdrive.

Stomach fluttering, Buck clears his throat. Then he clears it again. Then he ducks his head and looks at Eddie from below his eyelashes, and Eddie's gaze grows heavier still. "Sure," Buck manages to say at last, and so Eddie does, standing beside him, so close they're plastered together as they fold the laundry.

Technically, Buck supposes, Eddie's presence isn't very helpful—neither of them can concentrate much. But Buck doesn't mind, and he doesn't think Eddie does, either. Not when Eddie's looking at him like that.

"Stay over tonight?" Eddie murmurs when they're almost done, the knoeldge that Eddie needs to go back home hanging over them, and Buck's nodding before he can even think of it.

"'Course," he says, grinning, and Eddie smiles back. It's beatiful, and his touch is gentle when he grabs Buck's hand, and—

Buck can't breathe.

(He doesn't much want to.)