The 2000 words of blowjob is integral to the plot etc. My works on Ao3 under the cut
always been (4.3k words) (Explicit) - Mac and Dennis fight about the Johnny Texts (and then they fuck about it). Written in the immediate aftermath of Frank vs. Russia.
Mac Made a Sex Tape (12.4k words) (Explicit) - Mac comes home from the gym with a long-forgotten relic from an his early 20s - an encounter with an older man and a time when he enjoyed the freedom and anonymity in gay bars out in the sticks with Country Mac when Dennis was away at college. Dennis thinks it's only fair that they watch it (together, naturally - hopefully the visual of twink-Mac getting plowed by a 40-something year old definitely doesn't awaken something in him).
hold you in my hands like hot tea (12.6k words) (Explicit) - When the power goes out in the middle of winter with only a blow-up mattress and a shot-glass of plausible deniability between them, Mac keeps Dennis warm while Dennis faces facts. Set a few months after FvR. ('There was only one bed!' trope but they already sleep together on that stupid inflatable couch, so instead it's two idiots, one sleeping bag, and a shitload of Big Feelings)
think he can hear us through the walls? (think he wants to get involved) (13.4k words) (Explicit) - When Mac invites a Grindr hookup over on what's supposed to be their movie night, Dennis responds exactly how you'd imagine (and if he gets caught? Well, luckily that turns him on too). Blood, spit, and cum in equal measure in this one.
down empty streets, me and you (2.8k words) (Teen fic) - June, 1992. Exactly when or how Dennis ended up like this - laying on the couch, looking up at the sharp jut of Ronnie’s chin, the underside of the attractive point of his long nose, so stoned he couldn’t sit up straight if he tried - he’s not sure, but he’s not complaining. When Ronnie’s other hand comes to rest squarely on his solar plexus, right underneath his ribcage, he feels like his body could melt into syrup and sink straight into the worn brown fabric of the sofa.
like dew on the holy, holy vine (30k+ words) (Explicit) (M/M/M) Two bottoms walk into a relationship and realize there are some holes that one man just can't fill. Luckily, they know a guy. (aka: It's Charlie. It's always been Charlie.) The jean-shorts, boy-sweat and world's-silliest-dialogue fic.
i'm not tired, it's just dark (2.2k words) (Explicit) - Mac’s mouth waters at the sound of the tape whirring in the VCR, at the way the light from the TV splashes phosphorescent blue across the darkened dorm room, sharpening the edges of the textbooks stacked on the desk and the soft lines of his bare thighs against the bedsheets. It’s not gay if you’re looking at tits, bro. That’s what Dennis told him the first time, right? At any rate, that’s the version of the truth Mac’s let himself believe, the first time and every time after.
i’ll follow you back to the beginning (i’ll beg you nice from my knees) (11k+ words) (Explicit) - Crisp white shirt. Pressed black slacks. Dennis loops his thumbs behind the firm line of his black leather belt, head tipped to the right as though the lopsided smirk blurring his mouth is too heavy to hold up straight. It’s all Mac can do to clumsily disguise the air escaping his lungs with the wobbly thunk of his mug against the coffee table. Written in the hours after Mac and Dennis Become EMTs. Me at my most deranged.
i'm not trying to get comfortable (i'm trying to turn you on) (18.8k+ words) (Explicit) (WIP) - aka. The One Where they do MDMA on New Years Eve, aka. The Pink Thong fic. Set on NYE after the apartment burns down, Dennis frets over signs of Mac's imminent coming out and what it means for their relationship friendship. A dubious plan, a baker's dozen lines of coke, chainsmoking, Big Feelings and a pink thong (will, eventually, I promise) ensue.
