WIP Wednesday 17
Jan. 18th, 2023 04:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
between_time_and_42So, I thought I’d be sharing the first part of the smutfic this week, but then I wrote a really fun chapter in SF: ALS, so here’s a little bit of that. Part 2 just keeps getting longer and longer because I keep dragging out every scene just so I can fit more banter into it… I have, however, made an executive decision that the first half of Part 2 will be posted on AO3 on Valentine's Day, so that's bound to help me focus my ideas.
Ziggy & Pink are having breakfast on tour together. There was some plot-important stuff leading up to this moment, but this particular excerpt was written mainly because I realized I didn’t actually have a scene in my original outline where Ziggy and Pink interact but it’s told from Ziggy’s perspective, and I thought I should have one.
“Where are the Spiders?” were the first words out of Pink’s mouth upon reaching the table. No pleasantries, no greetings- just a straightforward query. If he’d greeted Ziggy in such a way back home, Ziggy wasn’t sure how he’d have felt about it, but as Pink was the only person so far whom Ziggy had met on this planet who would ever dare to start a conversation like that, Ziggy couldn’t help but warm to his behavior. He shrugged his shoulders, palms up. “Sleeping in? Don’t ask me.”
“They better get up off their arses soon,” Cyrus grumbled as he poured over the menu, “or they’re bound to be late.”
“Not bound to be late,” Ziggy murmured, consulting his internal clock. “They will be late.”
“You don’t say?” Cyrus sat up, his back ramrod straight. “In that case—“ He got to his feet and hurried out the door, leaving Ziggy smirking in his wake. Even though he tried not to show off too much, his impeccable sense of timing had clearly left an impression on someone.
“C’mon, Pink,” he said, pushing his chair back from the table. “Let’s go put in our orders.” He stood up and took Pink by the arm, leading him towards the counter. Any kind of touch was a risky one when it came to Pink, but he seemed most responsive to a light grip on his shoulder or back. It turned out that the forearm was no different, for Pink’s only protest as Ziggy carted him off was, “Hang on, Ziggy, I haven’t even seen the menu yet!”
“Don’t worry,” Ziggy murmured, letting go of Pink’s arm. A family of four appeared to be monopolizing the cashier’s attention at the counter before them, so Ziggy figured that Pink would have time to make his choice. Still, it couldn’t hurt to list some of his options. “They’ve got everything here. Bacon, eggs, sausage, biscuits, bagels, yogurt, fruit, waffles, muffins…”
“All going in your stomach, I’d imagine,” Pink mumbled.
Ziggy stifled a laugh. “That’s right. How did you know?”
All Pink did was shake his head. “I don’t know how you keep the weight off, Zig. Skin and bones, you are.”
“Oh, you know,” Ziggy said with a flex of an invisible muscle. “I work out a lot.” Now that was a bald-faced lie, but it was easier than trying to explain the intricacies of his physiology.
“Oh, right.” Pink looked far from impressed as he eyed Ziggy. “Let me know when it starts paying off.”
An electric thrill went through Ziggy from head to toe. “Oooh, I ought to pop you one right now for that!” He wasn’t actually angry, but he hoped that he’d served up some appropriate bait, and sure enough, Pink responded the way he’d wanted.
“Hm, I’m not so sure about right now.” Still staring at Ziggy, Pink began to stroke an imaginary beard. “Come back to me once you’ve got enough muscle mass to really make it hurt.”
Laughter erupted from Ziggy. How could Cyrus ever think of firing this person from the tour? Couldn’t he see how much excellent conversation he’d be missing out on? He chanced to shove at Pink’s shoulder, and was heartened when Pink gave his shoulder a tentative tap in return.
“You’re a very rude person, d’you know that? What would your parents think?”
Right as the words left Ziggy’s mouth, he could tell from the look on Pink’s face that he’d made a mistake. The mirth drained from his eyes, his lips pressing into a firm, straight line and his forehead wrinkling.
“If I run across them in the next life,” he said, “I’ll be sure to ask them.”
Ziggy & Pink are having breakfast on tour together. There was some plot-important stuff leading up to this moment, but this particular excerpt was written mainly because I realized I didn’t actually have a scene in my original outline where Ziggy and Pink interact but it’s told from Ziggy’s perspective, and I thought I should have one.
“Where are the Spiders?” were the first words out of Pink’s mouth upon reaching the table. No pleasantries, no greetings- just a straightforward query. If he’d greeted Ziggy in such a way back home, Ziggy wasn’t sure how he’d have felt about it, but as Pink was the only person so far whom Ziggy had met on this planet who would ever dare to start a conversation like that, Ziggy couldn’t help but warm to his behavior. He shrugged his shoulders, palms up. “Sleeping in? Don’t ask me.”
“They better get up off their arses soon,” Cyrus grumbled as he poured over the menu, “or they’re bound to be late.”
“Not bound to be late,” Ziggy murmured, consulting his internal clock. “They will be late.”
“You don’t say?” Cyrus sat up, his back ramrod straight. “In that case—“ He got to his feet and hurried out the door, leaving Ziggy smirking in his wake. Even though he tried not to show off too much, his impeccable sense of timing had clearly left an impression on someone.
“C’mon, Pink,” he said, pushing his chair back from the table. “Let’s go put in our orders.” He stood up and took Pink by the arm, leading him towards the counter. Any kind of touch was a risky one when it came to Pink, but he seemed most responsive to a light grip on his shoulder or back. It turned out that the forearm was no different, for Pink’s only protest as Ziggy carted him off was, “Hang on, Ziggy, I haven’t even seen the menu yet!”
“Don’t worry,” Ziggy murmured, letting go of Pink’s arm. A family of four appeared to be monopolizing the cashier’s attention at the counter before them, so Ziggy figured that Pink would have time to make his choice. Still, it couldn’t hurt to list some of his options. “They’ve got everything here. Bacon, eggs, sausage, biscuits, bagels, yogurt, fruit, waffles, muffins…”
“All going in your stomach, I’d imagine,” Pink mumbled.
Ziggy stifled a laugh. “That’s right. How did you know?”
All Pink did was shake his head. “I don’t know how you keep the weight off, Zig. Skin and bones, you are.”
“Oh, you know,” Ziggy said with a flex of an invisible muscle. “I work out a lot.” Now that was a bald-faced lie, but it was easier than trying to explain the intricacies of his physiology.
“Oh, right.” Pink looked far from impressed as he eyed Ziggy. “Let me know when it starts paying off.”
An electric thrill went through Ziggy from head to toe. “Oooh, I ought to pop you one right now for that!” He wasn’t actually angry, but he hoped that he’d served up some appropriate bait, and sure enough, Pink responded the way he’d wanted.
“Hm, I’m not so sure about right now.” Still staring at Ziggy, Pink began to stroke an imaginary beard. “Come back to me once you’ve got enough muscle mass to really make it hurt.”
Laughter erupted from Ziggy. How could Cyrus ever think of firing this person from the tour? Couldn’t he see how much excellent conversation he’d be missing out on? He chanced to shove at Pink’s shoulder, and was heartened when Pink gave his shoulder a tentative tap in return.
“You’re a very rude person, d’you know that? What would your parents think?”
Right as the words left Ziggy’s mouth, he could tell from the look on Pink’s face that he’d made a mistake. The mirth drained from his eyes, his lips pressing into a firm, straight line and his forehead wrinkling.
“If I run across them in the next life,” he said, “I’ll be sure to ask them.”
