#tripnatius

[gael-garcia]

Tripnatius: companion to Harrison’s fic

Ig’s eyebrow quirked in response, and that was the instant that his lips came to find Trip’s neck, right over the smudged blood, and his head fell back against the door as a rush of air left his chest. [read more]

[eyebagdehaan]

They met in a Washington diner. It wasn’t a classy place, but then, neither of them was classy.  Trip was alone at one end of the bar, picking halfheartedly at a plate of greasy fries, waiting until he was needed at the arena.  At the other end of the bar sat Ig, nursing a short glass of something amber.

He didn’t know why, but Trip was interested in the guy his age drinking whiskey at 1pm on a Wednesday.  What was his story? Trip slid off his stool, red vinyl creaking, and hopped up on the one next to Ig. He smiled, more of a tightening of the lips than anything, and shrugged his narrow shoulders up a fraction of an inch. He rarely talked, but he was usually understood.

Ig returned the gesture.

[gael-garcia]

Ig wanted to buy him something, to give him something, to find out his favorite rock band so it could be Ig’s favorite rock band, too.