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Will knew the answer before he asked, but he had to anyway, just in case no one had bothered to ask yet. “Are you okay?”
Connor huffed out a tired laugh, scraping his fingertips through his beard before downing the remainder of his drink. He hailed the bartender down for another, gesturing for Will to do the same, and for a moment Will thought he wasn’t going to get an answer, which only caused worry to settle heavy in his stomach.
“I could be better,” he said eventually.
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A drabble collection cross posted from my tumblr - feel free to send prompts @sofuckingcuffed
links and individual tags/warnings in summary of each chapter -
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He hates days like this, days where everything he does feels detached and mechanical. He hates that he can’t appreciate waking up next to Antonio, or the warmth of the shower waking him up, or the taste of whatever he eats, whether it be as simple as toast or as elaborate as pancakes.
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Getting to wherever he's going, it's like moving through molasses. Will isn’t even sure when it started. He’s so used to pushing through that desire to hide away, to go back to bed, to bury himself in blankets and silence and isolation, that he can’t pinpoint exactly when it got to this point. All he knows is breathing’s become hard, let alone the rest of it.
He knows he’s needed with a patient right now, not because he really remembers being told, or having the conscious thought to do so, but because he has their test results in his hand.
He knows he should walk back out there but instead, he sits down, casting the tablet aside as he takes a deep, measured breath. He tells himself he’ll sit for just a minute, regain his bearings, push away the exhaustion seeping into his bones and go do his job, but in reality, he knows he’d all but lost that battle when he gave in and sat down.
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“You’re beautiful in the mornings,” Connor said softly, chuckling when Will’s blush deepened further. “And you’re beautiful when you’re blushing.”
Will ducked his head to hide his face, an odd sense of shame filling him up at being seen, being vulnerable, but Connor matched the movement, capturing Will’s lips with his own. The kiss was soft and languid and undemanding, like nothing they’d ever shared before, and Will’s stomach flipped, heart pounding against his ribs.
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A collection of drabbles cross-posted from my tumblr. Send requests to sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/ask
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He knew he looked fine. That wasn’t the problem. It wasn’t even the fact that he was about to enter a room full of people who looked down their noses at him from atop their piles of money, or the fact that he had to sit through a dinner with them and make small talk, knowing he would be judged on every answer. It wasn’t even the fact that he would be entering that hall as Connor’s boyfriend, that be would be meeting Cornelius Rhodes as his son’s boyfriend.
It was the fact that it was a lie, a fake relationship to shut Connor’s dad up, that had Will’s stomach in knots, and Connor’s hand resting on his back as though it belonged there, like they’d done this many times before, had his heart threatening to leap out of his chest.
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He wondered if it should matter to him that he’d fallen in love with someone who could never love him back fully, someone whose heart belonged to someone else, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He could settle for good enough. He could settle for this, for as long as it lasted, because even though he knew it wasn’t forever, he would be happy with however much time he got. Even though he knew it wasn’t ‘I love you,’ he could be happy with ‘I like you enough to share this part of my life with you’.
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Definitely Not Sick by ChameleonCircuit for AnxiousCoffee (TheHallowedAngel)
Fandoms: Chicago Med
29 Jul 2019
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“‘M not even sick,” Connor mutters thickly, but hangs his head over the toilet anyway as a hiccup rolls through his body.
He heaves painfully this time, throat aching, tears forming in his eyes, back arching into Will’s hand with the effort, and a voice in the back of his head tells him that maybe he is sick after all, even though it came out of nowhere, because in all his life, this has never happened. He’s had the odd reflux attack, but never like this, never a swirling nausea that leaves him gagging emptily over a public toilet, sweat coating his forehead.
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A collection of Halzek drabbles crossposted from my tumblr - feel free to prompt me @sofuckingchuffed
Individual warnings and tags as well as links canbe found in each chapter summary -
I Am Human (And I Need To Be Loved) by ChameleonCircuit for Biweatherman
Fandoms: Chicago Med
20 Jul 2019
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There’s blood speckled on his shirt, likely more than he can see without taking it off. He counts the flecks for something to do, something to take his mind of the pain rattling around his ribcage, the giant hole that’s opened up inside of him that only seems to be getting bigger and bigger with each day that passes.
He squeezes his eyes shut, ignoring the painful throb from what is likely to be a black eye blossoming, and takes a deep, shuddering breath. It’s intended to ground him, but it does nothing more than remind him that he has nothing and no one, that he’s isolated himself from even the one person who could always make everything better. He’s sitting in a jail cell, completely alone with no one to call, no one to ask for help, absolutely no one in the world to turn to.
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This is just a bunch of drabbles/short prompt fills that don't really deserve an entire work of their own - I've now separated my Barisi drabbles from my other drabbles, so these are just Barisi
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Adam woke to a piercing pain in his stomach so intense he curled in on himself, body tense, eyes clenched shut. The next wave of pain came with the feeling that he needed the toilet. Now.
Trying desperately not to wake Kevin, he slid out from under the blanket and delicately made his way to the bathroom, clutching at his stomach as though it would help.
For a split second, the relief was bliss, even if he was terrified Kev was going to wake up and hear. But then suddenly his mouth was pooling with saliva faster than he could swallow, a cold sweat breaking out across his whole body, and the relief was replaced by outright panic.
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“I don’t understand you,” Will says, a note of hysteria in his voice.
“What do you mean?”
Connor's brow knits together in confusion just as Will shoves him. He doesn’t really mean to, but he still hasn’t moved back, and Will can feel panic rising in him. It doesn’t make sense but it has his heart pounding nonetheless.
“You’re angry one minute and sweet the next and I don’t know how to keep up,” Will shouts, running a shaky hand through his hair. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing but stop. Just stop.”
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It’s not the first time he’s given himself over to that part of himself, washed it away with alcohol, but even alcohol can’t drown the self-loathing, and tonight, with a stranger’s hand down his pants, calloused fingertips working expertly, he knew he couldn’t keep doing this. He knew he couldn’t keep lying to himself about who he was, about who he loved, always hiding in the shadows, hiding behind a bottle, hiding behind a fake name in a bar no one would find him in.
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Just a collection of Starisi drabbles from my tumblr (sofuckingchuffed)
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It was like a dam broke the moment Connor was in Will’s arms, and suddenly he was crying, great heaving sobs as he clung to Will. He’d never seen Connor emotional like this, but then, he supposed, for all that they were there for each other, for all they shared, they still kept their emotions locked away, never willing to lose composure in front of anyone, not even each other, not really. It took a moment for the shock to wear off and for Will to hug Connor in earnest, cradling his head, rubbing his back gently as he cried. He wished he could do more than just stand there and wait it out, but he’d had no idea the level of pain Connor was feeling, what he was actually going through. In hindsight, that was stupid. He should have known Connor would take the loss of his father hard, despite their rocky relationship. But he’d seemed to hold it together, to want to keep working, to be, for the most part, as okay as could be expected. So Will hadn’t wanted to push. He’d simply silently been there, and that seemed to be enough. Until now.
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He’s not sure what he was expecting when he entered the men's room, but it wasn’t Kevin half asleep, propped up against the stall wall, sweaty and shivering and pale.
He watches for a moment, not entirely sure what to do. His instinct is to crouch down beside Kevin and check him over, to soothe him the best he can and make sure he’s okay. But this thing between them is new, and he doesn’t want to accidentally overstep a boundary he’s unaware of this early on.
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Connor lifted his head with a shuddering gasp, taking a moment to focus as his eyes settled on Will. He opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a pained sort of gasp. In response, Will reached out for a tentative hug and was surprised when Connor all but collapsed against him, instantly pressing his face into Will’s shoulder as he sobbed in earnest.
In all the time he’d known him, even in the two months they’d been seeing each other, Will had never seen Connor break like this. He was an open book of emotion, always, but he never allowed himself to lose it in front of anyone, not even Will, and his heart ached for him, for how hard this must be for him to come completely undone in front of someone.
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Shadow Of Your Heart by ChameleonCircuit for barbaesparza
Fandoms: Law & Order: SVU, Chicago Med
05 May 2019
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Connor couldn’t quite explain the way his stomach swooped when he saw Peter across the bar. It felt like a lifetime since they’d last seen each other. So much had happened, so many people in between, that Connor had thought he’d moved on from whatever possibility they may have shared, once upon a time, and yet his traitorous heart went into overdrive at the prospect of just seeing Peter again, of being in his presence, even if only for a moment.