The police had his new client in an interrogation room, handcuffed to a chair. The guy looked up as Sam came in: white, late twenties, clear-eyed, which made Sam’s eyebrows go up; not the typical murder suspect the Baltimore police usually pulled in. “Dean Winchester?” Sam said. “I’m Sam Moore. I’m your lawyer.”
Source: Taking The Fifth, by astolat – Supernatural [Archive of Our Own] | https://archiveofourown.org/
Spoiler: They’re still brothers.
“Sit down,” the doctor said. He took blood, three vials filling up dark red. “Any medical conditions?”
“No,” Dom said, and then his mouth kept going and said, “What if I want to volunteer for bonding?”
The doctor peered at him over the glasses. “Do you want to volunteer for bonding?”
It hung in the air. Dom felt it like a noose around his throat, squeezing. Twenty-five to life. “Yeah,” he said.
“Less than one in ten guys even rates going in the database,” the doctor said. “And they don’t pull a lot of guys out of here.”
“I want to volunteer,” Dom said.
This is a bonding story unlike any I’ve read, and it’s brilliant!
Brian huffed a short laugh. “Is this the whose bitch do you want to be conversation?”
Dom stared down at his hands. “Brian,” he said, and couldn’t keep going. He wanted to start talking the kind of bullshit Roman would’ve been selling right now: it doesn’t mean anything, it’s just for show, it won’t be that bad, when what he meant was don’t fucking make me watch you die. He’d done a great job not thinking about it before now, but he knew what was going to happen if Brian said no, if he tried to fight it out.
Brian looked away. “I’ve put a lot of guys into prison, Dom. I know the score.” He blew out a breath. “Do you mind?”
“No,” Dom said, forcing it past his closed throat. He minded enough to gut himself, but that wasn’t the answer Brian was going to get from him, some chickenshit how about Roman, as if that could even have worked, as if he could’ve let that happen and not killed Roman himself with his bare hands.
Utterly captivating canon-divergence.
“What is it?” he demanded. “What’s wrong?”
Mia said, her voice a little choked with laughter, “It says Brian.”
“The fuck it does,” Dom said, but nobody said she was joking. He ran up to the bedroom and grabbed the shaving mirror out of the shower and got it angled right, and shit it did say Brian, the letters clear in pink new skin.
This soulmates AU is simply delightful.
Brendon is his very best friend which is what makes calling Ryan so fucking hard.
The best friend tier used to be filled by Ryan, wholly and completely. Then there was South Africa, screaming at each other in a hotel lobby then grappling with each other into an elevator and pushing each other into each of the four walls of the little metal box as their lips tore holes in their souls.
Spencer in rehab, making amends. Oh, how I wish this was longer!
He’s paralyzed with fear and regret and a healthy dose of self-disgust. It’s just… Spencer, he’s not ready to move forward but he doesn’t know how to go back either.
And one look at him makes Ryan feel a little pity curl around his heart, a touch of guilt knock against his stomach. “You know I love you, right?” he whispers, sitting down next to Spencer on the bed and tugging out one of Spencer’s hands in order to lace their fingers. “Even if you’re not. I’ll be okay if you’re not. You’re my best friend, Spencer.”
Spencer nods again and somehow finds to courage to meet Ryan’s warm chocolate eyes. For a moment all they do is stare, but then Ryan’s thumb glides over Spencer’s cheek and Spencer subconsciously licks his lips in anticipation.
This time, Ryan kisses him.
Source: If Forever Comes, by mandy_croyance – Bandom [Archive of Our Own]
A haunting, bittersweet first time, told out of order in a way that is altogether perfect.
“You’re freaking Bren and Jon out, you freak.”
Ryan throws a bottlecap at Spencer’s head where he’s sitting across the couch, but inside he’s panicking. “Howso?” He asks, hoping his underlying panic attack isn’t too obvious.
Spencer leans back into the couch. “Apparently you’re being a little girl, which is just offensive to little girls quite frankly.” He grins lazily, and Ryan hates how his stomach does flips. It didn’t used to be like this. It used to just be Spencer and Ryan, not Spencer and Ryan and Feelings.
Source: Problems, by orphan_account – Panic! at the Disco [Archive of Our Own]
A funny little getting-together thing. I just really love best friends-to-lovers, okay?
One time.
Just this once, that’s the deal they have.
A great Type POV of their first time in ep 4.
The minivan was spotless, freshly waxed, and had a new carpet down in the back before they took it back home, but Mia was mad anyway: after dinner she was banging the plates around in the sink with an expression like an angry tornado, and when Dom tried to slink past her to get the empties into the recycling bin, she whirled on him. “Is it really asking too much for you to quit having sex with my husband?” she said, and shit, he wasn’t going to forgive Ramsey ever.
“Mia,” he groaned. “Do we seriously have to talk about this?”
“Yes!”
“Jesus Christ,” Dom said. “Yeah, apparently it is asking too much; you think I want to be doing this?”
Dom discovers a (not so little) something about Brian – and about himself… This is hilarious and hot.
“Mother Mary comes through again,” Connor replies, flexes his wrists until he can feel the blood rush back to them, working its way through his veins. Makes his way around again until they’re side by side, thigh by thigh, and raises hands that still feel unreal—like they belong to someone else—to touch Murphy’s face in the dark. He doesn’t need light for this, can trace a face dearer than his own with his mind alone, touch just an aid to memory. Presses a finger against the tender flesh of Murphy’s split lip and feels the familiar outrage that floods him still at the thought of being powerless to stop any harm that comes to him.
Murphy turns just a little into it, lips pulling back as he smiles, smooth enamel of his teeth against Connor’s fingers now, and he resists the urge to press between them. Now is not the time, he knows that rationally. Murphy lunges and catches his thumb before he can withdraw and presses into the curve of his cheek instead. Worries it just a little, blunt dent and press of his mouth that’s always wicked, and is practically indecent given the circumstances.
Blast from the past – codependent twincest with more than a little folie à deux thrown in for good measure. A+.
