#not me sneaking other titles and snippets from jeff's music into this

[snailsweater]

I think VegasKim works because Kim looking at Vegas is Kim looking at a slightly distorted mirror. Kim would be Vegas if Gun was his father, they are very similar in their nature. In a universe where Gun and Korn are not unhinged, I can imagine Vegas chilling in Kim's apartment, reading a book while Kim is working on a song, they enjoy art, they enjoy spoiling and protecting the people they love, they enjoy physical pursuits, and both are good at combat. They both are ruled by their emotions even though they try to come off as cold and calculated. And I think it's the same for Vegas, Kinn is his competition, but Kim is like a parallel universe version of him, and I think while Vegas could be jealous that Kim has more than he does, he can see past that and knows that Kim is just as caged that he is. I really wish people wrote more Vegas and Kim stuff (romantic or not).

Anon. Anon, wait a friggn second, hold up. You are a fucking genius, holy, oh my, I am loosing my goddamn mind!

It makes total sense!

And you also filled my heart and brain with the picture of a cozy, homey Vegas chilling with Kim….

Vegas turns the page, lost in thought by the familiar motion and the sounds of Kim's guitar playing in the background. He feels how the notes link into his noisy thoughts, silencing the strain and the constant racing of the deeply rooted rules and expectations. It allows him to be.

Kim closes his eyes, his fingers pressing over the strings of the guitar in a melody he doesn't yet know, running up and down the slender fingerboard as he fills the silence with more and more new sounds. Peace. Silence, yet full of life. His foot begins to tap to the rhythm. His heartbeat echoes inside. Power. Strength dancing along his nerves and muscles. He transfers the beat to his leg until his knee follows and he begins to drum his knuckles against the body between each note.

It's a melody, new and appealing. It reaches for his mind, weaving new life around images and memories.

Vegas's fingers make his knife dance beside the book on his lap. A silver twirl that slowly descends until the tip of the knife taps against the cover of the book in time with the beat. Irregular, smudged lines play around the end where the blade sinks into the handle. His head falls back on his neck, a grin, teeth bared, eyes glinting. Kim's gaze meets his across the room.

"Dum-deu-dum-dum…"

The impact takes his breath away. The back of his head slams into the stone, sending his mind into zero gravity. A mad, delirious laugh bursts from Kim's lips. The hand on his neck is fleshy and rough. The fingers clawing behind his larynx, blunt and clumsy.

For a moment, he lets his hands hang beside his body. A second in which his opponent thinks he has the upper hand. Then that head smashes to the side, expodes in front of Kim's eyes before he closes them. Blood rains down, soaking his clothes and hair.

"You're getting sloppy, Nong." The title was tinged with mockery. Vegas lunges again with the scantling and rams the end into the stomach of his closest opponent. He goes down, mouth open but unable to scream.

No hand is held out to Kim. Instead, fingers claw into his shoulder and yank him up. Again, his back hits the wall, stone hitting bruises and abrasions.

"Nong."

Vegas. A piercing look in his eyes, hair wet from the rain, silk shirt rumpled. The scantling rests on his shoulder. The slipped collar exposes a clavicle where the dark shadow of a welt blooms.

The silence in response makes him change his posture. His stance becomes wider, his body more tense. His eyes begin to calculate the remaining opponents. Who all would he be able to take out….

"Feels like you're lucid dreaming." Vegas growls and shakes his head. His hand on the scantling tightens, the former trash becoming a deadly weapon in his hands.

His other hand grips Kim's shoulder, whose laughter slowly dies away. The grin remains as his fingers falteringly tap against Vegas' tense stomach.

"That day will never come." Kim pushes him aside with a jerk. His hand closes around the knife on his belt. Adrenaline surges through his veins and legs. Three steps in a sprint and he jumps.

The impact of his weight yanks his attacker off his feet and the knife him out of existence.

Vegas drags him back to his feet from a crouch before his low position would be his undoing. Stumbling, Kim staggers to his side. Their shoulders meet and his head jerks up. They're not done yet.

The movements come automatically. Their bodies remember before their minds do. Seamlessly, they slide back to back. Kim, knife in hand, the other clenched into a fist and raised to eye level, body centered. Vegas, eyes locked on his attackers, cracks his neck.

"Don't disappoint me now Nong." A hiss over his shoulder. He doesn't turn around. The blind spot doesn't exist, because inside it waits Kim.

"Watch out…" the younger man warns quietly, lips raised in a smile. "I'm going to steal your show."

Vegas laughs as he twirls the two-by-four. Blood drips onto the street. And soon it would fill the puddles and soak the pavement.

"Dum-deu-dum-dum-dum…"

Kim's fingers continue to dance across the pages, bringing the sleeping instrument to life and filling the room with a new warmth.

He senses a hunch, an inspiration coming within reach, but he can't separate himself from the sounds just yet. Only a few chords later does he let the last note die away and reach for his notebook.

Vegas watches the gleam of his now-clean blade in the dim light of the apartment.

"Next time, you keep your hands off my stuff and use your own, got it?" The sentence has no real anger behind it, but the warning is clear. Kim smiles. The movement tears at his open lip. Blood seeps onto his tongue. "Not everyone is happy with a weapon made out of fucking trash."

Vegas snorts, the knife dropping to the empty cushion beside him. He turns his head and lowers his eyes back to his book, the weight of the pages familiar and soft in his now clean hands.

"You should be creative Nong." He turns the page. There's a rustle, accompanied by Kim's pen scratching on music paper, capturing the inspiration he's just gained.

"Why would I?" Kim's answer is casual, his mind already lost between words and lyrics to the new song. His fingers tap the music sheets in sync with the beat.

"When it comes down to it, I'll just grab your stuff again."

Vegas growls something unintelligible, but the smile on his lips betrays him.

The apartment sinks into silence once again, interrupted only by the occasional flipping of book pages and fingers drumming on the table.

[stobinesque]

WIP Wednesday!

Tagged by @eriquin and @steves-strapcollection, thank you!!

THE RULES

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

THE WIPS

Jeff is Steve's Bi Awakening AU (fwiw I already have two of these sitting in my inbox from a couple weeks ago)

wigwag [Steve's Big Gay Sex Adventure]

Wayfinder [S4 Fix-it, Lucas POV]

phryctoria bonus chapter 7 (marginalia and annotations of How To Have Sex in an Epidemic)

THE (no pressure) TAGS

@devondespresso @starryeyedjanai @xenon-demon @inairbinad @hellsfireclub @delta-piscium @steddielations @thefreakandthehair @skjachukson @steventhusiast -- and anyone else who wants to participate!

THE SNIPPET

uhhhh, I'm pretty sure most of the writing I've done in the past 7 days has already been shared in various asks (or my steddie microfic), so have a sneak peek at chapter 5 of phryctoria, which I spent a good chunk of today revising.

Robin yawns again, stretching her arms high above her head. “Absolutely worth it,” she says, sounding a bit smug.

Steve shakes his head, but can’t bite back the smile she brings to his face. He clicks back into a conscious awareness of their surroundings, and realizes they’re passing by Weathertop. (Try as he might to deny it, the kids’ names for locations around Hawkins have fixed themselves in his mind.) He pulls off and parks the beamer on the side of the road, circling around the front to pull Robin out of the passenger seat. “C’mon, Bobbin, we’ve got a hill to climb.”

Halfway up, Robin turns to him and starts flapping a hand against his chest. “Hey, hey! How’s that song go? The hills are alive, dah-da-dah daaah dah, you know?”

Steve smirks. “Aren’t your ears supposed to be little geniuses? Robs, the next lines are literally the title of the movie.”

“Pretty sure it was a musical first.”

“This does not actually help your case, you know that, right?”

“Whatever, dingus. Just tell me how the song goes.”

“You sure you wanna hear me sing?”

“Okay, you’ll notice how I didn’t say ‘sing how it goes for me,’ you could just tell me the words.”

“No, no, now you’re going to be subjected to the musical stylings of the Harrington family singers, because,” Steve leans into her space and starts singing, sickly sweet, “My heart wants to sing every soooong it hears.” His head is almost fully resting against Robin’s shoulder as he looks up at her with a shit eating grin.

“Oh, my god, get off me,” she says, shoving at him while she laughs.

He lets himself be pushed away, taking a couple of dramatic, stumbling steps away from her before righting himself and drifting back into her space. “You know the next lines have always been my favorite though?”

“Do you have the whole song memorized?!”

“...yeah?” Steve frowns at her. “Robs, it’s one of my favorite movies! I thought that’s why you asked!”

Robin shakes her head, looking at him a little dumbstruck. “Nope, I’m pretty sure I would have remembered that little Harrington factoid.”

“Well…yeah. My mom really loved it, so I guess I just watched it a lot growing up? Especially when my dad was out of town—before she started going on the trips with him—because then we could sing along.”

Robin opens her mouth to say something, before seeming to make the conscious decision not to approach the whole ‘you couldn’t sing along to the movie about not being allowed to sing?’ thing with a ten foot pole, and snapping her mouth shut again. “Huh.” She takes a couple more striding steps forward with a pensive look on her face. “So...how does the next part go?”

He smiles at her, and even without being able to see his own face he can tell that it’s radiant. “My heart…wants to beat like the wings of the birds that rise from the lake to the trees.” He looks at her, and he can feel the way his gaze has become just a little too intense.

“Birds, huh?” She knocks his shoulder with her own, a gentle smile on her face. “Yep. Always loved ‘em,” he says, his heart feeling a little gooey in his chest.