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“I’m almost done,” Joe says, adding another layer to the image. He zooms out of the image until he’s not staring at individual pixels and selects the brush tool. He’s starting to regret offering to touch up all the photos taken at the fundraiser for the local animal shelter. It’s been eight hours since he’s started and he’s so tired that every time he blinks, he sees Photoshop’s stupid interface.

Nicky mutters something that Joe assumes means ok; it’s hard to understand the mushed-up syllables when Nicky won’t remove his face from Joe’s neck. It’s a small price to pay when he gets to have Nicky plastered all along his front, clinging to him like a baby koala and blowing warm puffs of air into his neck that have finally stopped tickling. He’s a steady weight on Joe’s lap and Joe doesn’t care that he’s lost all feeling below his knees twenty minutes ago; he would cut off his legs to keep Nicky right where he is.

Joe pats Nicky’s back before returning his attention to his laptop. Five more photos and then he’s done. Just five more. He can do this.

The next hour crawls by. Nicky has miraculously fallen asleep curled around him, snoring softly into his neck, arms still wrapped around him. He’s kept a steady hand on Nicky’s lower back, afraid that if he lets go, Nicky will fall backwards and wake up.

Joe saves the last image, uploads it to the shared google drive and instead of slamming his laptop shut like he desperately wants to, he gently lowers the screen down, unwilling to make any unnecessary noise and wake his tired heart up.

Nicky continues to snore softly into his neck; Joe wraps both arms around him, closing his eyes and tucking his face in Nicky’s shoulder. Joe yawns. He’s so tired. He should probably get them both to bed; otherwise, they’re both going to wake up tomorrow with some pretty stiff joints that’ll be a pain to wait to heal. He yawns again.

A couple more minutes won’t hurt.

Nicky is not a fool. He’s more than aware of the way Joe has been slowly tightening his grip around him, the silent hurry up beginning to creep onto the verge of uncomfortable. He twists his head to press a kiss to the mop of unruly curls. “Ten more minutes,” he promises and receives a grumble in response. Nicky laughs softly. “You can go to bed; I’ll be there soon.” Joe makes a noise of outrage that Nicky interprets as how dare you imply that I can leave you and wait on our cold bed, alone?

Nicky rubs Joe’s back in a silent apology, hoping that it’ll get Joe to loosen his grip a little now that it’s definitely in the uncomfortable zone. He has to force his ribs to expand with each breath, but if Joe thinks that Nicky will take them both to bed because breathing is a little harder, he’s going to be sorely disappointed. Nicky’s a champ at handling low oxygen situations.

He goes back to his Word Document, to his dumb history assignment that is wrong but he can’t say is wrong without explaining that he was there when it happened and it did not happen the way the book and every historian currently living thinks it happened. They should change the course name from Italy’s History to Italy’s Fiction, Nicky thinks as he types another wrong sentence.

Joe rubs his face into Nicky’s neck, hard enough that if they were regular humans, his skin would be a vibrant red right now. “Five more minutes,” Nicky begs, fingers moving furiously over his keyboard. “I have one more paragraph and the conclusion.” Nicky stiffens as he feels the delicate press of teeth on his neck. “Two,” Nicky corrects, the last point isn’t even that important. It adds virtually nothing to his argument; Nicky only wanted to put it in because he could.

There’s probably more typos in the last paragraph than in the entire document. Nicky can’t find it in himself to care as he saves and submits the paper. Joe’s grinning. Nicky doesn’t have to look at him to know that he is; he can feel the way Joe’s lips are stretched around the cord of his neck, still faithfully clamped between his teeth.

“You’re a brat,” Nicky tells him, palming Joe’s ass for support as he stands up. Joe bites down the teensiest amount—brat—and hooks his ankles behind Nicky’s back.

They have a good night.

Ficlets by the lovely @oldguardhc

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i have nothing against batcat. i actually think they have potential to be really sexy. the batman movie saw that potential and cast robert pattinson and Zoe kravitz. thank you for that. i think I’m gonna love batcat when I see the movie.

but tom kings batcat???? that is so annoying. it annoys me. i hate it . annoying!!!

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Gladiolus: *is the hot, buff, mullet man that can be goofy and makes terrible dad jokes* 

Me: I love one (1) man… 

Prompto: *is the goofy, energetic one that takes pictures of the back of people’s head’s and Gladio smiling and posing*

Me: I love two (2) men….

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