So, just about everyone looking at this post is going to be confused.
The very very patient Xedgin people are going to yell SHE WROTE THIS INSTEAD OF FINISHING THE DEAD IN THAY FIC?
The 911 people are going to yell SHE WROTE THIS INSTEAD OF THE BUCK WEARING A REMOTE CONTROLLED VIBRATOR THREESOME SMUT?
And YES. YES I DID. I wrote a fanfic with an absurdly high word count for a rarepair that interacted for a single episode and will never see each other again in a fandom that is nonexistent for a TV show that nobody watches!
Listen, children. Sometimes you a depressive episode and so you binge watch 24 seasons of television and you're having a grand old time until your very favorite little koala (who was RUDELY promoted and shipped off to Brighton) comes back for a special episode just to be a thorn in the side of your second favorite idiot, and the sexual tension is off the charts, so naturally you take yourself to Ao3 and THERE'S LIKE NO FIC FOR THEM so you read "mildly unrestrained" over and over and over and over and over and over until the fic is tattooed on the back of your eyelids and THEN you have to take it upon yourself to write a fic yourself because the diagnosis, at this point, is clearly terminal.
(That all either sounded very funny and like a stand-up bit, which was my intention, or like the ravings of an unhinged lunatic, which... would probably be accurate.)
And now, I present it all to you. I hope that you will take a peek at the fic anyway and enjoy the story even if you don't know the show or the characters. And if you don't, that's fine, just indulge me in my temporary new insanity, we are now going back to our regularly scheduled insanity that you all know and love.
Title: Abstraction to Realism
Rating: E for eventual smut and canon-typical murders
Ship: Ben Jones/Jamie Winter
Words: 76,846
Summary:
DS Jamie Winter is doing a perfectly good job not thinking about any detective inspectors, definitely not any detective inspectors from Brighton, especially not any detective inspectors from Brighton who are tall and handsome and good at cricket, when he's asked to help out on a case:
Go undercover with DI Ben Jones as his husband.
Jamie can handle this. He can totally handle this. He's not going to trip and smash his head on a massive crush or anything.
(Little does he know, Ben is giving himself the same pep talk, and it's going about as well.)
(This is going to be a disaster.)
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Slcbsks its okay no worries I just wanted to know if there was a fic of it!! I’ve read your other works and gosh darn it they are so good!! Omg embarrassing that I also got the name of the bleeding wires au wrong km😭
Anyway, I hope you’re having a ✨fantastic✨ day!! I hope there will be another part to the drabble!! I wanna know what happens after ✨the kiss✨😩🤌
dw about getting the name wrong, ‘bloodied’ is basically the same as ‘bleeding’ LMAO. also thank you for reading my other works!! it means a lot that you enjoy them so much 💞💞 do u have a particular fav :3 (other than bleeding wires LOL)
im assuming youre talking about that suggestive obedience drabble that ended w a kiss. i wasn’t planning on writing a direct continuation for it tbh LMAO. buttttttt okay ill let you in on a secret on how i imagine it to go since ur so nice <3
sun kisses you and it’s like the entire world freezes. you don’t know how to react—don’t know how to process anything of what you’re feeling. the frigidity of the room along your bare skin. the way his hand grips at your side squeezing squeezing squeezing. the intensity with which he presses the lines of his static smile against your mouth.
it—you recognize faintly—is a bit like pressing your lips against a wall. immovable. there is no motion, no push and pull, give and take. there is only him, him him him. pressing down onto you. holding you. letting you feel the gentle vibrations in his chassis, the almost violent whirring of his fans. you feel like you’ve been coated in static, numb and distantly tingly. you have to suppress a shiver.
and beyond the buzzing emptiness of your brain, the shock and surprise of what is now happening—it clicks that sun is kissing you.
the same sun who makes jabs at humanity more often than is comfortable. who criticizes you from time or time or gives you backhanded compliments. who bothers you even if you don’t feel like talking. who tells you about all the nitty gritty thoughts he has. who looks down at all that you are and doesn’t really see you, you think, past your blood and flesh and bones. who has never shown an ounce of interest in you in this manner.
(you don’t realize that he has been showing interest, all this time. he just never realized it himself, never quite processed that certain actions he has taken is his way of showing he actually… likes you. more so than others.
and you were just too unused to his quirks and particulars to be able to properly read him.)
and you are so, so confused.
you’d just wanted to poke back at him, for his stupid experiment he said he was conducting. that’s what you tell yourself—incessantly in your mind, repeating it over and over until it seems less like a lie. you wanted to see if there was anything past that complex he wears like some kind of thick skin. you never.... you never imagined things would come to this. you are afraid of what it means, deep down.
and so, you reach your hands up to his chassis, and give him a gentle push back.
it's like he has to tear himself away, staring down at you with pupils that have dilated so much, it's like there are full moons in his eyes. your gaze flicks across his faceplate, analyzing.
"sun," you say quietly, your lips numb. that's all it takes.
he steps back—abrupt and sharp—the rays along his faceplate twitching and stuttering. his hand snaps away from your side like it has been burned, and you can see the way his gaze darts about. like he is a cornered animal, confused and startled.
"friend, i—" he starts, then forcefully stops. his hand clutches at the front of his chassis for a moment, scrambling for something you're not sure he has. he shakes his head, minute, then turns his back to you.
"your shift is over," he says, oddly stilted. something sinks, deep within your chest. "put your clothes back on and get out."
and then he leaves. you can only stand there, getting steadily colder and colder, your heart a jumbled mess.
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I'm gonna be mad as hell if Vee actually turns out to not be Wat and, for the absolute life of me, I don't understand why anyone would want him to not be Wat.
They've already put the red string of fate on them, quite literally, so I don't see how it would make any narrative sense to not have Vee be Wat (unless they say Wat was never San's soulmate, but then the stone shouldn't have worked?).
I do hope San is conflicted with, who I'm calling, decoy!Wat for the good angst and tears, but I will refuse to accept Vee isn't Wat, even if the show ends with him not being her. Sorry I'm not sorry.
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