Bite Sized Bits of Fic

The Following, Joe Carroll/Ryan Hardy, Harry Potter AU

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Castle, Kate Beckett/Richard Castle, urban fantasty AU where Castle is a wizard/mage/etc

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Person of Interest, any (+/ any), Marvel AU where Reese is Captain America

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Hannibal, Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham, romcom

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Supernatural, Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester, cop/detective/crime AU

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cghardy.livejournal.com

Killjoys, any, X Men AU

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Batman (comics), Roy Harper/Tim Drake, coffee shop AU

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Roy tastes like those chocolate covered coffee beans that are on sale when Tim finally gets up the nerve and presses him into a case of hazelnut syrup in the storeroom, moans into Roy’s mouth when Roy’s hands come up to tangle in his hair and change the angle so he can kiss him back harder, deeper, biting at his mouth and grinding against him like maybe he's been waiting for this as long as Tim has.

Tim tried, he really did. Nothing good ever comes from messing around with co-workers, especially when you are said co-worker’s manager, but there’s just something about Roy Harper that makes him lose his goddamn mind. Maybe it’s the way Roy’s’ always singing Lynyrd Skynyrd songs while he mops up after hours, maybe it’s the eyebrow piercing or how everytime he shows up for his shift there’s a new tattoo peeking out from beneath his shirt sleeve or the neck of his skirt. He doesn’t know what it is, just that’s he’s spent the last three months jerking off and thinking about Roy’s stupid mouth and when Roy came in today, late as per usual, and flashed Tim his goddamn tongue ring, that was pretty much the last straw.

“Fuck,” Roy pants against his mouth. “You’re so fucking hot, you know that? Christ, do you think I could blow you in here? I think I could blow you in here.”

“Jesus,” Tim laughs as Roy starts to maneuver boxes around so he can get on his knees. “Just --”

But Roy’s already working his belt open, already pressing his face into Tim’s crotch and mouthing at him through his boxers and fuck it, they’re doing this.

When they come out of the storeroom fifteen minutes later, the cups Steph sent Roy to get completely forgotten about, they walk out to a round of applause, everyone in the store muttering finally.

if anyone wanted to write me the slow burn fic where they build up to this, I wouldn't cry about it :p

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He doesn’t know what it is, just that’s he’s spent the last three months jerking off and thinking about Roy’s stupid mouth and when Roy came in today, late as per usual, and flashed Tim his goddamn tongue ring, that was pretty much the last straw.

*____* YES PLEASE THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I NEEDED IN MY LIFE.

Thiiiis is perfect, bb. Thank you!

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Batman comics, Jason Todd/Dick Grayson(/any), Friday Night Lights AU: Dick's star quarterback, Jason's his fuck-up bff/teammate.

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Batman comics, Bruce Wayne/Jason Todd, Jason's the Slayer, Bruce is his Watcher or 200-yr-old vampire boyfriend

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Leverage, Eliot/any(/any), romance novel AU

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MCU, Steve/Sam or Steve/Bucky or Bruce/Tony or Steve/Natasha/Clint, Princess Bride AU

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DCU(/crossover), Jason Todd/Dick or Tim or anyone from MCU, Point Break AU or Dirty Dancing AU (they blend together in my mind because of Swayze. IDK)

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BtVS, Buffy/Faith/Willow, Teen Titans AU

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DCU, Tim Drake/Roy Harper, college au (MIT)

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DCU, Tim Drake/Roy Harper, artist au (Roy's the crazy manic artist always covered in paint, Tim's the cutie at the coffeeshop that keeps him in caffeine)

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"Hey, Tim," Roy says when he walks up to the counter. He's wearing torn-up jeans and a Bob Dylan t-shirt and his skin is covered in paint, fingernails and arms stained blue; there's even flecks of paint in his hair. "Can I get two quad espressos and -"

"Do not give him that," Dick interrupts when Tim starts hitting buttons on the register. "Tim, I don't need him coming back two hours later with ideas about what colors we should be using for the shop, and -"

"I'm telling you," Roy interrupts, "Cerulean would be a great color for this place." He leans forward, asks, "Don't you think, Tim?"

Tim blushes, and Dick rolls his eyes and says, "One quad."

Tim goes to pour Roy's shots, and Roy moves over to the bar to wait. "I don't know what he's so worried about," Tim tells Roy. "I was going to slip you half-decaf, anyway."

Roy laughs, says, "Jeez, Tim, I thought you liked me."

"Sure," Tim says. He hands Roy his cup, says, "But I don't want you dying from a heart attack at twenty-four. Even if it would make some of your shitty paintings worth something."

"I thought you liked my shitty paintings," Roy teases, and Tim feels himself blushing again. They do this every day, sometimes a few times a day, if Tim works a double or Roy forgets about sleeping. Roy comes in, orders too much caffeine, flirts with Tim, and then walks back across the street to his apartment.

One time, when Tim first started working here, Roy actually asked him out, but Tim was so startled by it that he said no before he even realized what he was doing. He's been trying to go back on that for ages, but every time he starts to Dick or Steph will make some comment about what a bad idea it is to date customers.

It's slow right now, so Tim tells Dick he's taking his break and grabs a muffin out of the case. He steps up to Roy where he's adding about twenty-seven sugars to his espresso. "What are you working on right now?" he asks.

"Well," Roy tells him. "It's called coffee. You being a barista, I thought maybe you'd understand, but those cute little aprons have fooled me before."

Tim rolls his eyes. "I mean what are you painting, dumbass," Tim says. He takes Roy's arm, tracing all the flecks of blue mixed in with his freckles. "You're covered in this shit."

"Yeah, well," Roy says. He grins, leans in a little too close to Tim. "That's why I paint naked, y'know? Gets all over me, but keeps my clothes lookin' okay. 'Course, sometimes you end up with paint in pretty strange places..."

Tim stares, not sure if Roy's fucking with him or not. "Your eyes," Roy says, licking his lips, "Are something else, you know? I've been trying to mix that color for weeks."

"You've," Tim stammers. "You've been painting me?"

"Yeah," Roy says. "Well, I mean, I've been trying, but like I said. It never turns out."

Feeling brave, Tim says, "That's because you don't see me enough," and Roy quirks an eyebrow at him. "You asking me out?"

"Yes," Tim says, even though his hands are shaking like after too many espressos.

"Good," Roy says. "I was getting really sick of paying for coffee." Tim rolls his eyes. "What? I'm a starving artist, man."

"Whatever," Tim says. "Just shut up and pick me up at 8."

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OHHHHHH FUCK MY LIFE THIS IS THE GREATEST THING EVER TO EXIST :DDDDD

"Can I get two quad espressos and -"

LOL ROY NO. NOOOOOOOOO.

THOSE CUTE LITTLE APRONS HAVE FOOLED ME BEFORE. :DDD

He takes Roy's arm, tracing all the flecks of blue mixed in with his freckles.

Haaaaas anything ever been prettier than that I don't thiiiiink so

"That's why I paint naked, y'know?

EXCEPT THAT MAYBE. *________*

Tim stares, not sure if Roy's fucking with him or not. "Your eyes," Roy says, licking his lips, "Are something else, you know? I've been trying to mix that color for weeks."

HELLO. I LOVE YOU. MAY I HAVE YOUR HAND IN MARRIAGE? Jeeeeesus christ. <3_________<3

Oh geeze. If you haven't gathered already, I FUCKING LOVE THIS. Tiiiiiiim is so cute and adorable and Roy is so Roy and omg I want eight thousand million words of painter Roy now? Who knew? Thank you bb, this was absolutely PERFECT. :DDDD

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:DDDD EVERYONE SHOULD WANT TO PAINT TIM IT'S JUST A FACT OF LIFE ALL RIGHT. <3333 glad you liked, bb!

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DCU, Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne, escort au (Jason's a high class escort, Bruce doesn't like finding dates to take to functions)

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He's good-looking, but then, Bruce knew that when he picked him out. He looked through the photographs online, even spoke to him over the phone - and still, Bruce isn't quite ready for Jason when he sees him.

"So where are we going?" Jason asks when he gets in the car and sits down across from Bruce. He's well-dressed, expensive suit and tie and even more expensive shoes, his hair just the right side of tousled like someone just got done putting their hands in it.

"There's an art show downtown. Proceeds go to a local orphanage," Bruce says. Jason helps himself to a drink from the mini fridge, licks the soda from his lips. "I think one of my friends contributed some pieces for that. I told him if he wanted to help needy orphans he could just put the money right in my pocket, but hey…"

Bruce laughs, a little startled. "You don't exactly look needy, Jason."

"Well," Jason says, grinning. "That's 'cause I'm a professional. You, Mr. Wayne, don't exactly look like the type who needs to hire out high-class hookers."

Bruce clears his throat. "Escort," he corrects. "And call me Bruce."

"Sure," Jason says, his grin turning sharper. "Whatever you want, Bruce." The words go right to Bruce's dick, and it's like Jason senses it, because in a moment he's slipping off his seat and getting between Bruce's legs.

"Some of my other clients," Jason says, "like to do this before the evening starts. Helps them relax a little, you know. Plus," he adds, cupping Bruce through his trousers, "I think some of 'em get off on walking into some fancy place smelling like sex."

"And do you?" Bruce asks, and Jason licks his lips. "With you?" he asks. "Jesus, yeah. Not every day you get to play arm candy to Bruce Wayne."

"Hn," Bruce says, and Jason unzips Bruce's trousers and gets his hand around his dick. "Fuck, man," Jason says. "That why you have to bring in professionals? 'Cause no one else's gag reflex is up for this?"

Bruce smirks, cups Jason's face in his hand and says, "Don't know. Show me what you've got."

What Jason has is a mouth like Bruce can't even believe. He comes like he hasn't since he was a teenager, fast and hard and hitting his head on the backseat, and Jason swallows every drop, licks his lips and tucks Bruce back into his trousers before getting on the seat next to him.

"That was," Bruce starts, at a loss for words.

Jason shrugs. "I usually like it a little messier, myself, but there's showing up smelling like sex and there's showing up with come on your pants, so…"

"Jesus," Bruce says. He drags Jason in and kisses him, licks the taste of himself out of Jason's mouth. Jason's hard against his thigh, but when Bruce pulls back they're arrived at their destination, and it's time for both of them to be perfectly charming.

And Jason is perfectly charming; he knows more about art than Bruce could ever hope to, knows half the artists by first name, and Bruce is so happy to have someone on his arm who isn't a total idiot that he risks spoiling it by dragging Jason into a bathroom stall and fucking him senseless.

"How," Bruce says at the end of the night, when they're back in the car and Jason's sitting in his lap, letting Bruce kiss all along the back of the night. "Do I have you exclusively?"

Jason laughs, grinds against Bruce through their clothes. "You asking me to be your kept boy, Mr. Wayne?"

"Yes," Bruce says, dragging his fingers under Jason's shirt. "Something like that."

Jason takes a sharp breath, and Bruce is sure it's not the first time this has been offered to him, but maybe - "Take me out again," he says. "Then we'll talk."

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Plus," he adds, cupping Bruce through his trousers, "I think some of 'em get off on walking into some fancy place smelling like sex."

"And do you?" Bruce asks,

JESUS CHRIST THE WAY YOU WRITE BRUCE ALWAYS KILLS ME. IN THE HOTTEST WAY. NNGH.

"Fuck, man," Jason says. "That why you have to bring in professionals? 'Cause no one else's gag reflex is up for this?"

Bruce smirks

I MEAN. HE SMIRKS. I CANNOT FUCKING DEAL WITH THAT, OKAY.

but there's showing up smelling like sex and there's showing up with come on your pants, so…"

LOL GOD I LOVE JASON TODD.

Bruce is so happy to have someone on his arm who isn't a total idiot that he risks spoiling it by dragging Jason into a bathroom stall and fucking him senseless.

Jesus fucking christ, this is so perfect. This is just. Throw them in literally ANY universe and it will always be like this, Bruce being head over fucking heels for him and Jason being JASON and perfect and ugh god I love them so fucking much.

"You asking me to be your kept boy, Mr. Wayne?"

"Yes," Bruce says

Hnnng christ jesus. IIIIII am so happy with myself for prompting this AND EVEN HAPPIER WITH YOU FOR FILLING IT. Thaaaaaank youuuuuuuu *muah*

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