http://thesecretdoor.livejournal.com/ (
thesecretdoor.livejournal.com) wrote in
writetomyheart2022-04-02 12:32 am
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
[Team sonic] want
I didn’t have time to get anything written for my turn this round but I don’t want to fall behind on writing. Here'a a tiny excerpt from an already 30,000+ word thing I'm working on.
Simon Snow x Baz Pitch; PG for implications?; ~250 words
I’m watching him, he’s watching me. The tension between us is too heavy, threatening to drown me, or choke me.
If I kissed him, he would let me, he would kiss me back. He glances at my lips but he would never ask for it, he would never take it.
“What do you want?” I ask, my thumb brushing along his jaw. Baz turns into the touch but his voice is carefully composed.
“For breakfast, Snow? It’s not your turn to make breakfast in the morning…”
It’s neither of our turns to make breakfast, it’s Wednesday, his housekeeper will be here. He knows what I mean. Is it that he doesn’t want to answer, or that he doesn’t want to know what reaction I’ll have to it?
Why would he?
I’ve never said…never told him…
I’ve touched…and we’ve kissed. I’ve given…but he’s never even asked. “What do you want?” I ask, replacing my thumb with my lips. “What do you want from me? From us?”
“Us?” he asks. He swallows, I feel the way his jaw moves, I chase the movement down his neck.
“Baz…do you want me?” I ask, it sounds like I’m pleading. Maybe I am.
He inhales slowly. “I’ve wanted you since I knew how to want.”
My breath catches. “Tell me Baz…” I can only say it because he can’t see me. I’m buried in his neck, in his chest, his clothes, his hair, everywhere. I’ll be buried in him. “Tell me…what do you want?”
He must sense my desperation. “I want you Simon. All I’ve ever wanted is you.”
Simon Snow x Baz Pitch; PG for implications?; ~250 words
I’m watching him, he’s watching me. The tension between us is too heavy, threatening to drown me, or choke me.
If I kissed him, he would let me, he would kiss me back. He glances at my lips but he would never ask for it, he would never take it.
“What do you want?” I ask, my thumb brushing along his jaw. Baz turns into the touch but his voice is carefully composed.
“For breakfast, Snow? It’s not your turn to make breakfast in the morning…”
It’s neither of our turns to make breakfast, it’s Wednesday, his housekeeper will be here. He knows what I mean. Is it that he doesn’t want to answer, or that he doesn’t want to know what reaction I’ll have to it?
Why would he?
I’ve never said…never told him…
I’ve touched…and we’ve kissed. I’ve given…but he’s never even asked. “What do you want?” I ask, replacing my thumb with my lips. “What do you want from me? From us?”
“Us?” he asks. He swallows, I feel the way his jaw moves, I chase the movement down his neck.
“Baz…do you want me?” I ask, it sounds like I’m pleading. Maybe I am.
He inhales slowly. “I’ve wanted you since I knew how to want.”
My breath catches. “Tell me Baz…” I can only say it because he can’t see me. I’m buried in his neck, in his chest, his clothes, his hair, everywhere. I’ll be buried in him. “Tell me…what do you want?”
He must sense my desperation. “I want you Simon. All I’ve ever wanted is you.”