Tora (torakowalski) wrote,

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White Rabbits

Yay, it is 1st December and I wrote 50,700 words in November! You may remember me, full of good intentions, announcing that I was going to be working on an original project for all of NaNo this year?

Yeah, that didn't exactly happen. Instead, I split my words across lots of smaller things, fic and original, because I have the attention span of a gnat.

If anyone's interested, here are excerpts from the fannish things I worked on this month. Everything should be finished eventually:

Spider-man/Avengers Crossover: Clint/Coulson High School AU

Clint finds Phil and Peter still in the diner where he left them. There are two empty milkshake glasses in front of each of them and a plate of fries between them, and they’re doing homework on the sticky diner table.

Because of course they are.

“Oh my god, please tell me you two haven’t bonded over your epic geekery,” Clint sighs, flopping down into the chair opposite them. “I bet you’ve gone and made each other worse, haven’t you?”

Peter grins down at his notebook, like Clint teasing him for being a nerd is good in some way. Phil – to Clint’s epic but secret delight – flips him off.

“Actually, we bonded over science fiction,” Phil says primly, like giving Clint the finger never happened. “Peter has very sensible opinions about Star Wars.”

“Han shot first!” Peter contributes, still without looking up.

Clint laughs, can’t help it. “You guys okay for food?” he asks.

“Milkshake, please,” Peter says, pushing his glass toward Clint and doing the puppy dog thing with his eyes.

“Those don’t work on me,” Clint says firmly but takes the glass anyway. “Phil?”

Phil gives him a weird look. “I’ll come up with you,” he decides and walks with Clint to the counter.

Clint orders drinks for all three of them, then has to knock Phil’s hand down when he tries to pay for them. “What are you doing?” Clint demands, handing over his own bill. “You’ve already bought him two. In fact, here, I’ll pay you back for those too.”

Phil shakes his head when Clint tries to pour his change into Phil’s palms, stuffing his hands into his back pockets and taking a step back. “It’s fine. Clint, seriously, it’s fine. He looked like he could do with some cheering up.”

Clint makes a face at nothing. “Yeah. Thanks for, you know, staying with him.”

“It’s fine,” Phil says again, “I didn’t mind. He’s an interesting kid.”

Interesting is pretty much never a positive descriptor, Clint’s found, but, weirdly, it looks like maybe it is when it’s coming from Phil.

“Yeah.” Clint shrugs. “He’s okay.”

Phil’s quiet for a minute, watching their waitress make their drinks, even though they could have gone back to the table and let her carry them over. Clint isn’t prolonging this moment for any real reason, just because he likes talking to Phil. Even when it’s awkward, apparently. Go figure.

Avengers Fic: Clint/Coulson Fic Where Clint is Secretly A Virgin

Honestly, when Phil asked if he wanted to get dinner, Clint was expecting the McDonalds down the road or maybe the one on 42nd Street if they were feeling really adventurous. He definitely wasn’t expecting a cosy little mom and pop Italian place where the waiters know Phil’s name and the chef comes out to say hi after they’ve placed their orders.

“Um,” Clint asks. “Sir?”

Phil takes a sip from his beer glass and asks blandly, “Clint?”

Okay, there’s another thing: Clint. That’s new.

Clint isn’t entirely sure how to ask you have friends? without being seriously offensive. “When did you have time to bond with restaurateurs?” he settles on.

Phil actually laughs. “I went to school in the city,” he says. “My favourite waitress from back then runs this place now.”

Huh. Now that Clint did not know. He’d always figured Phil went to Harvard or something, somewhere where they taught you how to really rock a kickass suit.

“What?” Phil asks, still smiling and looking at Clint curiously.

Clint wonders what expression is showing on his face. Which is worrying because usually he knows exactly how much he’s giving way. “Just trying to picture you as an NYU hipster, sir,” he lies, smirking.

Phil shakes his head. “This was long before hipsters. This was the early eighties, it was all punk rock and protest marches.”

Clint leans forwards. “Please tell me you marched,” he begs. He doesn’t ask about the punk rock. If Phil was a punk, Clint isn’t sure his brain can handle the knowledge.

Phil smiles slowly. “How do you think I first met Director Fury?” he asks and Clint is still staring at him in delight when the waiter brings their food over.

Avengers Fic: Clint/Coulson Fuckbuddies

Clint snickers and shakes his head, scrubbing a hand over his face. “So that was,” he tries, then gives up. What the fuck was that?

“It was,” Phil agrees seriously, ruining it with the way his eyes are twinkling.

Clint kicks him in the shoulder. He feels kind of drunk on sex. “I never thought you’d be that – ” He waves a hand. He maybe shouldn’t be admitting that he’s ever thought about what Phil would be like in bed.

“That what?” Phil asks. He’s still flushed all over and he hasn’t gotten rid of the condom yet, but he seems totally okay with that and with being naked in front of Clint. Clint likes that. “Barton, did you think I’d be bad in bed?”

“No,” Clint laughs. “I just thought you’d be more, I don’t know.” He shrugs. He’s shit at talking; he always has been. He always thought Phil would be bossy in bed, which he was, he just hadn’t expected him to be so physical about it, or for that to be so hot.

Phil pushes himself up onto elbows and mock-glares at him. “I can’t believe you thought I’d be bad at sex.”

Clint pokes him with his toes again. Apparently post-coital Phil likes to tease; it’s weird seeing him like this.

They haven’t kissed yet. If they had, Clint would probably kiss him now. As it is, Clint pushes away from the bed and staggers to his feet instead.

“Any idea where my pants are?” he asks over his shoulder.

“Over there,” Phil says, pointing without looking. He’s right. Of course, Phil knows everything, even after fucking Clint’s brains out.

Clint tugs on his jeans and stuffs his boxers into his pocket. “How about my shirt then, sir?”

“By the front door,” Phil says, with a little smirk that means he’s remembering how he stripped Clint out of it as soon as they were inside.

Clint is definitely remembering that.

Skyfall Fic: Q/Tanner hurt/comfort

Bill finds Q drowsing in a sea of steaming water and bubble bath; one hand is resting on the side of the bath, long fingers peeking out of the cumbersome-looking plaster cast. His eyes track Bill sleepily as Bill leaves his shoes in the doorway and crosses over to kneel beside the tub.

“Hello?” Q says curiously, humming against Bill’s mouth when Bill leans in to kiss him. “Are you a pill-induced hallucination?”

Bill pulls up his sleeve and flicks his fingers though Q’s bathwater. “No, but there is a 00 in your kitchen, if you’re looking for something to alarm yourself with.”

Q’s eyes narrow, a frown appearing between them. “Yes, I know. He turned up at the hospital, insisted on driving me home, even though I could walk. I told you I could walk, didn’t I? And now he won’t leave. We don’t have to keep him, do we?”

“Not unless you fed him,” Bill says, as seriously as he can.

Q laughs quietly. It shouldn’t count, because Q is drugged right now, but Bill still feels slightly smug about that; Q's smiles are hard to come by and his laugh is rarer still.

“You’re actually here?” Q asks again. He shifts around slowly, sloshing water from one side of the bath to the other and reaches up to touch Bill’s face. It isn’t something Bill would usually do, but he pretends to nip at Q’s fingers, just to hear his stoned laugh again.

“I swapped myself for Eve,” Bill tells him. “Do you think Mallory will notice?”

Q spends five seconds looking adorably confused before catching on and rolling his eyes. “Stop mocking me,” he complains. “My brain is so…” He tries to wave his broken hand and hisses with pain instead. “My brain’s foggy.”

Bill doesn’t tease him for that – Bill is actually only just learning to tease him at all – because he understands how important Q’s brain is to him.

“Come on, then,” he says, standing up. “Let’s get you up before you fall asleep and I have to ask Bond to carry you to bed.”

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Tags: avengers, fic, skyfall (2012)
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