Adrian's Original Drabbles

[AdrianMarx]

Hello all!

So, I'm finally catching up with everybody else and starting a general purpose drabble thread because I have a lot of ideas for characters and drabbles and I don't want to start a new topic for each of them. This will be a collection of my boys (and I may ask the court if I can borrow some of their boys at some point too hehe) and I'll be introducing some new ones along the way but, for now, I've got a couple of Oli/Avery pieces to share with you. Their story can be found in my thread here if you're interested. 

The first one is for @SpamKey who gave me this lovely prompt.

-

 

Avery Henderson: 16, 5’6”, bright green eyes, messy dark hair, thin and pale. Immune system probably just slightly better than Gabriel. Has awful hayfever. Shy and anxious, especially around new people and usually stifles to avoid attention. Loves reading, particularly fantasy novels. He gets bullied at school and his parents lack interest in him so he’s very insecure about receiving affection. His relationship with his parents is complicated because they're fickle and indecisive. They sometimes show affection and his mother has been known to dote on him but they almost get bored of him because he's sick so often. When comfortable and well, he's teasing and playful though cries easily and often when fevered. He jumps at loud noises and retreats to small spaces when anxious.

Oliver Campbell: 17, 5’8”, dark brown eyes, light brown hair with a fringe. Pretty good immune system but some allergies - mainly dogs and cats. Has a slight reaction to dust but generally halted with meds. Friendly, tends to get along with everyone and is quite confident. Huge Disney fan. Lives with his mother and has a lot of compassion for people. Used to play the flute. Only his mother and Avery are allowed to call him Oli (but that may change as he gets to know people). He's protective of Avery but also likes to encourage him to step out of his comfort zone. Afraid of needles and won't get jags unless dragged to the doctor kicking and screaming. He doesn't like going to the doctor anyway - practices and hospitals set him a little on edge - so he's usually nervous when he has to go with Avery.

 

-

Title: Conspirators
Pairing: Oliver/Avery
Cause: Illness

School without Oliver was always awful. It reminded Avery far too much of what it was like before Oliver came into his life - lonely and depressing. Oliver was the only student who had ever taken an interest in Avery as a friend and then a boyfriend and Avery would forever be grateful to him for making the rest of his time at school less miserable than previous years had been (and some of them had been really terrible.)

Helen answered the door to Avery with an unsurprised smile.

“He’s upstairs,” she said by way of greeting, letting Avery leave his bag down in the hall and helping him off with his coat. “I’ll bring you boys up some tea and biscuits in a bit.”

“Thanks, Helen,” Avery grinned, giving Oliver’s mother a quick hug which she happily returned before releasing him so he could head upstairs to see his sickly boyfriend.

Oliver wasn’t one to get sick and when he did it was usually nothing worse than a sore throat and a headache. But every so often he’d catch a bad cold and have to take a few days off school. This was one of those times. Avery’s heart clenched when he heard Oliver coughing before he was even halfway upstairs. That sounded painful. He wished now he’d thought to pick up some throat soothers or something but he’d just been so desperate to see his boyfriend.

Avery peered round the door to Oliver’s room, smiling despite his worry just at the sight of him. In a pair of dark blue pyjamas with an extra blanket around his shoulders, Oliver was sat up in bed, a tissue in one hand covering his mouth as his coughing fit came to an end. Glancing up, he spotted Avery and smiled immediately.

“Hey,” Avery said softly, sitting himself down beside Oliver and throwing an arm around his shoulders, tucking his head into Oliver’s neck. “How you feeling?”

Oliver hummed and sniffled. “I’ve been better,” he said stuffily, giving Avery a quick squeeze back before he pulled back. When Avery looked up, Oliver was frowning. “You really shouldn’t be here,” he said, making Avery’s heart sink all too suddenly. “You’ll get sick.”

Relieved that that was the only reason, Avery smiled again. “I’m gonna get sick anyway,” he chuckled, leaning in to kiss Oliver on the cheek but he pulled away.

“I’m serious,” Oliver sighed. “You-you’re always sick. I hate seeing you miserable and I don’t want to b-be...hh’ITCHoo! snf I don’t want to be the cause of that.”

Grabbing a fresh tissue, Oliver gave his nose an unproductive blow. Avery could see it turning red and wondered with sympathy how often Oliver had been rubbing at it. Avery knew all too well that being sick wasn’t any fun but being sick alone was even less fun. Avery knew that nothing in the world made him feel better than curling up with Oliver and knowing that somebody cared about him.

“I could never be miserable with you,” Avery murmured, leaning in again and this time holding Oliver’s head in place with his hand so he could plant a firm kiss on his forehead.

“Avery, please,” Oliver said, sounding much stuffier than before which made Avery’s stomach flip with a desperate need to just make his boyfriend feel better. Oliver pulled himself free of Avery again and leaned back as far as he could before his back hit the head of the bed. “You only just got better.”

It was true. Avery had been down with an awful flu bug for weeks and hadn’t been to school nor had he been allowed to see Oliver by direct order of his parents. They didn’t want him to get his best friend sick. And there was also the small issue of them not knowing that he and Oliver were together so to speak. Avery was sure they’d be fine with it - after all, they were his parents - but he still wasn’t quite sure how to bring it up and he didn’t think the best way would be to have Oliver looking after him. Goodness knew his boyfriend was very affectionate when Avery was sick.

“I got better two days ago,” Avery pointed out. “I haven’t coughed at all today. Okay, actually, that’s not true. I think I breathed in a fly or something but that doesn’t count!”

Oliver chuckled despite his worry. “No, don’t worry, I won’t count that. I just don’t want you sick again so soon. I want you to enjoy feeling better.”

“I’d enjoy it a lot more if I could be with you.”

With a sigh, Oliver stood (despite Avery’s faint protests that he should be resting) and backed further away from Avery, tissue ready in case his boyfriend should come close again. He didn’t want to risk even breathing on Avery again, knowing how fragile the poor kid’s immune system was, especially after a bad bout of flu.

“Please,” Oliver said, rubbing at his nose which was tickling again. “Please just go home. I’ll be better soon and then we can cuddle.”

Defeated, Avery sighed and looked down at his shoes. “Okay,” he mumbled, glancing once more at his shivering boyfriend. “At least get back into bed before I go?”

Oliver smiled and did as asked, holding his breath as he let Avery draw the fleecy blanket closer around his shoulders. He didn’t let his breath out again until Avery had reached the door and turned to blow him a kiss. Oliver blew one back, both thankful and disappointed to see Avery leaving. Of course he wanted Avery to stay but some things were more important - like Avery’s health. Sighing, Oliver heard Avery mumbling with his mother downstairs before the front door opened and closed again.

~

“Avery?” Helen smiled as Avery’s mop of dark hair appeared round the living room doorway. “Is something the matter.”

Avery sighed. “Oli wants me to go home,” he said softly. “Doesn’t want me sick.”

Helen frowned. “Yes, I was worried he might say that.”

“I don’t want to leave him,” Avery said, pouting slightly. “He’s always there for me when I’m not well.”

Helen wrapped Avery up in a quick hug, playing with his hair absently. “I know he’d appreciate your company. He just won’t let himself have it,” she said quietly against his head. Avery sighed again resignedly. Helen pulled back, looking thoughtful. “Wait here,” she whispered before going back out into the hallway.

Avery stood bemused in the living room while Helen opened and closed the front door before coming back to join him with a conspiratorial smirk.

“Now, dear, you take a seat and be nice and quiet,” she whispered, guiding him to the sofa. “I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

Still unsure as to what the heck was going on, Avery took a seat and waited. When the kettle was boiling, Helen returned, keeping her voice low and gesturing with her eyes to the ceiling.

“He’s barely slept all day but he’s exhausted,” she said. “It’s always the same. He keeps himself awake coughing and then he’s out like a light. I’ll get you some spare pyjamas once he falls asleep and you can spend the night here.”

Avery grinned. Helen was definitely the world’s coolest mum.

~

It took hours for Oliver to finally fall asleep. Avery spent that time in the living room, wincing at the wet coughs and sneezes which came periodically from upstairs while Helen continually went to check on him with tea, medicine, and soup. When silence finally fell, Helen put a finger to her lips and went to check on her son, returning with a spare pair of pyjamas as promised.

“What did I tell you?” She chuckled quietly. “Like a light.”

Changed and a little sleepy himself, Avery followed Helen upstairs and slipped beneath the duvet which she held up for him before tucking it gently around him. Avery smiled up at her, carefully arranging himself so he was wrapping Oliver up in a hug. Oliver stirred slightly but merely mumbled something and didn’t fully wake. Kissing both their foreheads once, Helen shut the door over and left her boys in peace.

Avery smirked to himself.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” he murmured, curling closer to his snuffling boyfriend and letting his thoughts drift until he fell asleep.

-

Title: Dance with Me
Pairing: Oliver/Avery
Cause: Illness

I was wondering if you and me could spend a minute

On the floor up close getting lost in it

 

Oliver held out his hand to Avery who was curled up on Oliver’s bed, nose red and shoulders shaking. He gave a mock bow and smirked cheekily at his boyfriend.

 

“May I have this dance?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively which had Avery in fits of giggles. After a moment, he regained himself and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, practically bouncing up to grab Oliver’s hand.

 

“You mbay,” he grinned as Oliver positioned Avery’s free hand on his shoulder and assuming a dramatic waltz position.

 

I won’t give up without a fight

 

Oliver spun Avery round and they did a ridiculously fast waltz out of time to the music which was definitely not created for a waltz. But it didn’t matter. Oliver, for one, liked being able to hold Avery in this way and Avery, for another, immensely enjoyed not being treated like some fragile invalid.

 

I just wanna oooh oh baby

I just want you to dance with me tonight

 

Avery laughed delightedly as Oliver sang along to the music - very loudly and off key - while they danced. Oliver twirled Avery under his arm and they danced and giggled around Oliver’s bedroom gleefully.

 

So come on oooh oh baby

 

“I just want you to dance with me tonight!” Oliver sang, his voice breaking into a laugh on the last word.

 

Avery twirled Oliver under his arm this time and Oliver was so surprised that he stumbled but he caught himself on the bed with a chuckle and pulled Avery close again, this time engaging him in some kind of swing dance which soon had them on the floor giggling.

 

I just wanna oooh oh baby

I just want you to dance with me tonight

 

“Hey, come on” Oliver said, jumping up again and pulling Avery up after him. “We haven’t done 70s disco style yet!”

 

With those words, he placed on hand on his hip and pointed the other straight up in the air, flipping his hair dramatically as he did. Avery grinned and mimicked him, swiping quickly at his nose which was starting to itch. Truth be told, his chest burned with the exercise and all the laughing but it was well worth it. Who said sick people couldn’t have a little fun?

So come on oooh oh baby

Disco style complete, Oliver grabbed Avery’s hand and knelt down on one knee, pretending to sing soulfully into an invisible microphone in his clenched fist.

“I just want you to dance with me tonight!” He warbled and, really, it was just too much for Avery. The laughing turned into coughing and he had to pull his hand out of Oliver’s so he could cover his mouth and press the other hand against his aching chest.

The music stopped mid-verse and Avery’s coughing not long after. It was only when he was drying his watery eyes that he realised Oliver had been rubbing his back. He met Oliver’s eye with a sheepish smile.

 

“Sorry,” he whispered, massaging his chest where much of the tension had vanished. That was something, at least.

 

Oliver kissed his cheek swiftly. “Don’t apologise,” he insisted, bundling Avery back into bed and climbing in after him. With Avery settled in his arms, he added, “Better?”

Avery hummed in agreement, stifling a sneeze against his shoulder. When he let out his breath again, he let himself relax against his boyfriend. Oliver gently rubbed circles in Avery’s chest, earning a quiet moan of approval.

“Feel better,” he said quietly, continuing his ministrations while Avery dozed against him. Oliver sighed.

Today was a good day.

[SpamKey]

HOLY HELL ADRIAN WELCOME TO THE FLIPPING BANDWAGON!!!!

Friggin Avery and friggin Oliver being so friggin cute and Oli's so friggin stubborn and Avery's so friggin sweet and I lovelovelove them sososo much and I just  L O V E  how you did my silly little prompt it was so sweet and I loved it omfg I am barely coherent akfjohadighajoisdj I loved it!!!!

I also loved the reprise of the dancing drabble  I always loved that one, it's so sweet and I'm so glad to see it again! Did I mention I love it? Because I love it  

[Juto]

ADRIAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!!

congrats on your OC Drabble thread  I just KNOW it's gonna be glorious  

And you've already started us off with our  fluff cuties Oli and Avery Awww  I have so much love for those two!!!  

Avery being all quiet and secret in the kitchen with Helen until Oli is asleep so they can cuddle was just BEYOND ADORABLE!!! Awww he totally would  

AND THE OLLY MURS DANCING DRABBLE YAAAAAAAAS!!!! 

Just adorable  

I can't wait to be introduced to some of your new OC's. Take your time, I expect to set up camp here for ETERNITY!!!  

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Aww... Oliver and Avery are super sweet!  I'm looking forward to reading more stories with them and any of your other OC's. 

[Kaze Wo Hiku]

21 hours ago, Adrian said:

Avery grinned. Helen was definitely the world’s coolest mum.

She isssss omg Helen FTW!!

21 hours ago, Adrian said:

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” he murmured, curling closer to his snuffling boyfriend and letting his thoughts drift until he fell asleep.

Oh dear something tells me Oliver isn't going to be very happy when he wakes up

HNNNG SO CUTE GOD!  I can't wait to see what else you bring Maybe a certain clumsy teacher

[Arty]

Adrian!!!!! This is just glorious!!!

[this_is_not_me]

I love these, especially the second one. I missed these boys!!

[AdrianMarx]

Ahhh thank you guys for your lovely comments!!!  Here are some new boys for you. Please do let me know what you think xx

-

Raymond Terrell: 24, 6’1, short, neat silver/blond hair, blue eyes, pale, lean and scrawny, wears glasses. Poor immune system and seasonal allergies. Works three minimum wage jobs (two domestic and one retail). Bookworm and aspiting writer, had a few articles published in papers and some poetry during school. Likes playing poker and is very good at it. Classically trained in piano and often teases Milo about his “knock off piano skills”.

 

Milo Wells: 24, 5’4, transgender afab, scruffy light brown hair (self cut and falls into his eyes), brown eyes, large chest which he binds, a bit overweight, wide hips. Good immune system. Rarely ill and no allergies. Struggles to hold down a job due to transgender identity though used to work as a receptionist. Quite outgoing and extroverted, loves plants and gardening. Loves music and plays guitar and keyboard.

 

-

 

Title: What a Way to Make a Living
Pairing: Raymond/Milo
Cause: Illness

Milo hated when Raymond went to work when he was sick. Specifically, Milo hated that Raymond had to go to work when he was sick. But there were bills to be paid and Raymond had already used up his sick days for the year when it had been unavoidable during a nasty bout of flu back in January. Their flat didn’t do much for his health either. A damp, ground floor flat with a flaky heating system saw them curled up together in bed every night with every blanket they owned wrapped snugly around them.

And even then Raymond still woke up shivering in the night sometimes.

Recently, Raymond had been struggling through an awfully resillient cold, going through his small supply of handkerchiefs almost once every day. Milo did his best to wash them for him when he was at work (which was pretty much all the time these days since- well, since Milo had last worked) but they hand’t always finished air drying by the time his poor, sickly boyfriend returned, run down and exhausted and good for nothing but his bed.

Hearing footsteps echoing in the close, Milo glanced at the alarm clock on the floor next to the mattress (hey, bedframes were expensive) and quickly made his way to the front door, throwing it open just as Raymond had been reaching for the handle.

“Oh, Ray,” he breathed, pulling Raymond inside quickly and immediately taking off his cargidan to wrap it round his trembling shoulders.

Raymond smiled wanly by way of greeting but it did little to convince Milo that he was feeling any better. His usually pale face was ashen and drawn, dark circles under his eyes telling tales of nights spent lying awake coughing and wheezing. Milo had been trying to convince Raymond to visit a doctor about his chest since they’d first started dating at seventeen but he’d always been a stubborn little shit, to use the technical term. Raymond’s nose was red and angry and, judging by his congested breathing, completely functionless.

Swiftly, Milo swept Raymond into the kitchen and sat him down at the little wooden table, fixing him a cup of tea.

Raymond sniffled pitifully behind Milo’s back and Milo turned in time to see his boyfriend duck forwards into his tired handkerchief, letting out a few exhausted sneezes.

Ehhshhhuh’ngh!

Hhishhhhuh’nngkh!

“Bless you,” Milo sighed, placing the cup in front of Raymond and taking a seat next to him. “Drink up then straight to bed, yeah?”

Raymond nodded, shakily lifting the tea to his lips and taking a sip, wincing as it burned his lips and throat. Putting the cup down again, he looked Milo up and down once and grimaced, making Milo tense. Here it comes…

“Have you taken that off today?” Raymond asked, nodding to Milo’s chest and barely managing to make himself heard amid the wretched congestion which blocked his sinuses.

Milo sighed, though doing so wasn’t comfortable. “Not yet. I will when you’re asleep.”

Raymond, who looked far too tired to argue, simply nodded but the look on his face suggested that he didn’t believe Milo really would. And maybe he wouldn’t, Milo himself didn’t know. Today had been a rough day. He’d try - for Ray - but that was all he could promise. They didn’t say another word.

With the tea finished, Milo dragged Raymond to the bedroom and started organising the bed while his boyfriend changed slowly into his pyjamas. Milo tucked him in lovingly and kissed his forehead.

“I’ll have food ready when you wake up,” he whispered but Raymond merely grunted in response, already snuffling congestedly as he drifted off to sleep.

Sundays were Milo’s least favourite day of the week. As if his boyfriend’s health wasn’t delicate enough, Sunday saw him working 8am-5pm then 11pm-4am and, following perhaps two hours of sleep if he was lucky, he was back at work 8am the following morning. Currently, Raymond would get around four hours before Milo would wake him for dinner and hate himself as he ushered his sniffling, wheezing boyfriend out the door to work for the second time that day.

One thing was for sure, this wasn’t living. This was bullshit.

Leaving his boyfriend to sleep, Milo headed to the bathroom. He liften his baggy t-shirt over his head, sighing down at the bandage which tightly bound his chest. Raymond was right. He needed to take it off. The last thing Raymond needed right now was to be worrying about Milo any more than usual. It was ironic, really, that Raymond worried so much about Milo’s health but cared so little for his own when he was the one most often down with coughs and sniffles and, on one awful occasion recently, bronchitus.

Milo sighed and immediately winced when he felt the bandage tighten around his chest. Raymond was always right.

The moment the bandage came off, Milo felt his lungs take in a sudden gasp of cool, fresh air. The constricting happened so gradually over the course of the day that he tended not to really understand how tightly he was binding until it came off. He relished in the moment, eyes closed, feeling suddenly a little lightheaded as the air rushed into his lungs.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t stay like that forever and, when he opened his eyes, he was left staring at his breasts and belly fat in the mirror, feeling the tears spring to his eyes as he quickly threw his t-shirt back on again. The bandage didn’t exactly make his chest flat but it did significantly help to decrease his dysphoria and, provided he wore baggy clothing, it helped him pass as male in public.

Folding his arms across his chest, he dumped his makeshift binder in the bath and headed out to the living room where he flopped down on their raggedy couch. And then he cried. He cried for his poor boyfriend and his impossible work schedule and fragile health. He cried for himself and his stupid body and his stupid dysphoria. He cried because everything felt like his fault - ever since he’d come out and lost his receptionist job at the bank, Raymond had been tirelessly working just to keep them both afloat.

So Milo cried because he felt trapped.

And he cried for a long time.

[Kaze Wo Hiku]

MILO OMG BABY *Super hugs*

Love thsee two!!! God such a dynamic. Wonderful as always Adrian

[SpamKey]

UMMMM?????? YOU LULLED US INTO A FALSE SENSE OF SECURITY WITH CUTE OLI AND AVERY AND THEN YOU GIVE US THIS PILE OF HEARTBREAK?????? HOW DARE YOU?????????????? HOW????? VERY??????????? DARE????????????????? YOU????????????????????????

[this_is_not_me]

Oh. My. Glob. You are killing me, Adrian. Killing meeeeeeee.

[queenie]

That's very sad! I want happiness and stability for them!! No wonder Raymond is sick all the time, sleeping that little is awful for you. 

[Juto]

OMG VISCOUNT HOW CAN YOU WRITE SUCH WONDERFUL OLIVER/AVERY FLUFF AND THEN DELIVER THIS FEAST OF SAD EMOTIONS ??????

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH  

awww gosh they're already messing with my heart. Poor darlings. Sweet Ray, so loving and hard working and awwwww Milo, what a fighter but so fragile awwwww  

How... Dare... You...?! 

[AdrianMarx]

I'm glad you guys liked my new boys. Here's a little more

Title: Apologising

Pairing: Raymond/Milo

Cause: Illness

Waking Raymond after just four hours sleep that evening was almost more than Milo’s heart could bear, especially after seeing his boyfriend’s exhausted, bleary gaze fall on him and attempt a smile.

“Y-you…” he began but he got no further before he broke off into an awful cough. Milo quickly pulled Raymond upright and sat down beside him, supporting him with an arm wrapped around his lower back. In obvious pain, Raymond pressed his hand against his spasming chest, each gasp of air sounding more and more desperate and tight than the previous.

“It’s alright, my ray of sunshine,” Milo whispered, using his free hand to grab a handkerchief and wipe the sweat from Raymond’s forehead while he coughed. “I’m right here. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

Raymond’s breathing only got more desperate as the fit went on but finally, miraculously, he seemed to clear his chest of whatever blockage was there and would have collapsed back down again in exhaustion had Milo not pulled him close, taking Raymond’s full weight against his side. Panting, Raymond rested his head on Milo’s shoulder and sniffed thickly, giving Milo’s hand a pathetic squeeze when it handed him his handkerchief. Following a pitifully feeble nose blow, Raymond closed his eyes, wheezing and exhausted as he used his boyfriend to keep himself upright.

“You took it off,” he rasped, letting out an awful wheezing sigh which made Milo’s chest constrict as though he had still been binding.

“Four hours now,” Milo whispered back, kissing the top of Raymond’s head, barely noticing that his short blond hair was soaked with sweat.

There was absolutely no way in hell Raymond was fit to go to work. Hell, he wasn’t fit to go to the living room. By all basic human decency, Milo should have tucked him back into bed and doted on him until his health returned. He should have threatened to have his guts for garters if his sickly boyfriend even thought about putting one foot on the floor. He should have done several things, maybe, but nothing feasible sprung to mind in time. All he could manage was bringing Raymond a fairly bland meal in bed rather than dragging him to the table.

It wasn’t much of a meal - just a baked potato with what was left of the cheese. Tomorrow, when Raymond was back at work again, Milo would brave the outside with his shoulders hunched and his head down to make sure he could have a decent meal prepared for his hard-working darling when he returned. Tomorrow, Milo would only have one meal. Healthy food was expensive and medicine was expensive too and Raymond needed those things now more than Milo needed to eat three meals a day.

Raymond managed half of the potato before he started to look a little green and Milo quickly took the plate from him, deciding it was better for Raymond to have half a potato in his stomach than to force down the rest of it and lose it. He’d keep it in the fridge for later.

As he helped Raymond into his green cleaning scrubs, Milo suddenly couldn’t take it anymore and threw his arms around his boyfriend with a wail of despair.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered tearfully. “I want you to stay so I can take care of you.”

Raymond gently prised Milo off himself and kept his hands on his shoulders, Milo’s arms still looped around Raymond’s torso should he suddenly need support.

“I dnow,” he said and, as Milo studied his face, even his blinking seemed sluggish. “Budt I godda go. Ndo mbore sick days left.”

Milo leaned forward - right up on his tippy toes - to quickly kiss Raymond’s cheek. “I’m just- I’m so sorry I lost my job so you have to-”

“Shh,” Raymond interrupted, lifting one finger slowly to Milo’s lips. “Ndot your fault, andgel.”

“It is,” Milo whispered, blinking back tears though a few still escaped. “If- if I wasn’t…”

“Sdop!” Raymond’s voice had such unexpected force behind it that Milo physically started. When he glanced back up into his boyfriend’s eyes again, they were burning with a strength which pleasantly reminded Milo of when Raymond was healthy.  “This is ndot your fault snf.”

Not trusting his voice, Milo offered Raymond a small smile and quickly headed back to the bathroom to bind his chest again so he could walk his shivering boyfriend to work.

(Naturally, the buses didn’t run this late.)

[Kaze Wo Hiku]

STAPH ADRIAN. MY HEART CANNOT TAKE THIS!!!

"My ray of sunshine" DONE DONE I'M DONE.

MILOOOOOOOO IT'LL BE OKAY BABY RAY WILL BE OKAY

(right Adrian....RIGHT!!!!)

[AdrianMarx]

4 minutes ago, Kaze wo Hiku said:

STAPH ADRIAN. MY HEART CANNOT TAKE THIS!!!

"My ray of sunshine" DONE DONE I'M DONE.

MILOOOOOOOO IT'LL BE OKAY BABY RAY WILL BE OKAY

(right Adrian....RIGHT!!!!)

Sure...it'll be fine...

[Rook]

THIS IS NOT OK OH MY GOD RAAAAAAAAAAAAY MILO WHY YOU TORTURE ME SO ADRIAN

[Juto]

OH MY GOSH ADRIAN I AM SO JOINING KAZE ON THE FANGIRLY SIDE OF "my ray of sunshine" 

TOO!!! CUTE!!! FOR!!! WORDS!!!

i also noticed a "darling" and an "angel"

GAAAAHHHHHH THEY ARE TOO PRECIOUS!!!!! 

I cant...

viking down... 

 

[Arty]

The hell Adrian!! My eyes are wet....my lip is quivering...no! No????!!!!  I just feel so horrible for them.

[RiversD]

Ahhh! You started a drabble thread while I was gone!

So much angst, Adrian, wow (an observation, not a complaint).

Milo and Raymond are adorable. I'm a tad invested, despite that I know you will use this to hurt me. I accept my fate. They're too lovely not to.

[happybunny]

SHIT, Adrian! THESE ARE SO GOOD!!??? Raymond and Milo are so real! Their struggles are so real! Your writing has me captivated.

and on a side note- I acctually know a transgender boy named Milo! He was the sweetest! He was blonde and wore a lot of bright blue and pink and a lot of cool hats!hw was kinda short and very funny.  This story reminded me of him because he was such a sweetheart. We went to college together. XD 

[AdrianMarx]

So it's been like a million years since I added anything to this but here's some more Milo and Raymond for those of you who liked them ^-^

-

Milo looked out of the window and cursed.

The sky was white and the ground was covered in a blanket of snow which was already an inch or two thick. It was beautiful, Milo supposed, but it was definitely not good. Raymond had been sniffling fairly consistently since late November though had somehow managed to avoid coming down with anything more serious. Now, with the year barely a week old, Milo hoped Raymond wouldn’t succumb to the weather.

(Aside from Milo’s concern for his health, Raymond’s sick days had just been renewed for the year and using them all up at the beginning of the year wasn’t going to bode well for the next eleven months.)

Milo turned back to face the room and noticed, with a fond sigh, that Raymond’s usually neat silver-blonde hair was mussed against the pillow, making his boyfriend look far younger than his twenty-four years. Almost unconsciously, Milo noted that Raymond’s chest sounded clear when he breathed and that his pale face wasn’t sporting any signs of a fever. Even when Raymond was healthy, Milo found himself taking this silent inventory as part of his morning routine.

When he wasn’t caught in the throes of some awful cold, Raymond was quite ethereal when he slept. His long lashes folded delicately over his defined cheekbones, soft pink lips gently parted, and his expression entirely peaceful.

Raymond snorted in his sleep and Milo had to swallow a laugh. Mostly ethereal.

Milo wished it could always be like this. Too often, Raymond’s cheeks would be flushed, his hair sweaty and stuck to his forehead. Too often, he’d toss restlessly with his breath labouring along and his nose angry and chapped. Too often, Milo would wake him for work with his heart clogging his throat at the sight of Raymond struggling to his feet with bleary eyes and heavy, aching limbs.

Biting his lip, Milo scowled out at the snow again. It wasn’t falling anymore, thankfully, but Milo wouldn’t count his chickens before Raymond was home from work and warm in bed.

Feeling somewhat defeated since he couldn’t actually melt the snow by glaring at it, Milo tugged on his binder and some jeans and headed into the kitchen to start the kettle boiling. The cold linoleum floor startled a gasp out of him when he first stepped onto it but he quickly adjusted.

They didn’t have much in the way of food but Milo made sure to keep oats in stock for winter mornings. They were out of milk but water would do. All Raymond really needed was something warm and filling and, with a lot of luck, hopefully he’d be able to cling to his fragile health for a few more weeks at least.

As Milo stirred the oats and water on the stove, his mind flicked back to his sleeping partner. He couldn’t stop images filling his mind of Raymond bundled up against the chill, struggling through a blizzard, fingers shaking too hard to fit his key in the lock. Milo shuddered. He was going to be an anxious wreck all day.

“Morning love,” Raymond said sleepily from behind him, stepping into the kitchen with a shudder at the cold floor. Milo scowled down at his bare feet and made a half-hearted shooing motion, reluctant to leave the porridge for too long.

“You should put socks on,” he muttered shortly. “It’s freezing in here.”

Raymond chuckled fondly and wrapped his arms around Milo’s waist, chin resting comfortably on top of his head. “Most people say good morning back, y’know.”

Milo felt the coil of hard anxiety in his stomach unwind a little and he twisted to give Raymond a brief kiss on the lips.

“You have morning breath,” was all he said and Raymond smacked the back of his head gently as he wandered back to the bedroom to get changed for work.

Milo glanced out the window again forlornly.

When he and Raymond had first moved into this place, they’d both sworn it would be a temporary thing. The heating was flaky at best and the whole building was horribly draughty. It was barely habitable, honestly, but they’d been desperate. Their landlord was definitely sketchy (quite aside from the fact that he only took rent payments in cash) and his maintenance of the place largely involved unclogging sinks and the occasional promise to do something about the rising damp which, thankfully, was yet to invade the bedroom.

Milo thought often about how he’d like to live or, more accurately, how he’d like Ray to live. They’d have a small flat on the second or third floor, high enough to be off the ground but not so much that Raymond would have to haul himself up too many stairs (Milo wasn’t delusional enough to think they’d be able to afford a place with an elevator). The heating would work properly, though Milo supposed it’d be okay if they got one of those places where it shut off overnight as long as they had enough blankets. Milo would buy so many blankets for their bed - a real one with a bedframe - and lots of pillows to prop Raymond up when his chest was bad.

One day, they’d be able to afford better food, better healthcare. None of Raymond’s three jobs provided insurance, unsurprisingly. One day, Milo might not have to go hungry just to make sure his poor boyfriend had enough. One day, Milo would be working again and things would get better.

Part of Milo didn’t believe they’d ever get there but he never let himself give in to that voice. It’d be the end of him if he did. Because imagining Raymond, with his poor health and his weak chest and his thin, thin body, in this place forever - it broke Milo’s heart. And he knew, realistically, that Raymond wouldn’t survive in this place forever. He was barely surviving as things stood. He needed warmth and good food and a work schedule which allowed him more than four hours sleep at a time.

Milo swallowed the lump in his throat and scooped the porridge into two bowls. There wasn’t much sugar left so Milo quickly spooned some into Raymond’s bowl before he could see. Raymond, bless him, didn’t like when Milo sacrificed things for him, even little things like sugar. Milo didn’t dare tell him that sometimes he went without food.

“Ray, I made breakfast,” Milo called, settling down to his own bowl as Raymond shuffled back into the room, halfway into a t-shirt and only wearing one shoe (but, to Milo’s relief, two socks). Milo stifled a laugh. “Sorry, love, I didn’t mean to rush you.”

Raymond ruffled Milo’s hair affectionately and pulled his t-shirt over his head before sitting down across the counter with a brief shiver. Milo didn’t miss it but he also didn’t say anything. Contrary to popular belief, he could actually keep his thoughts to himself.

The worry was still there in the pit of his stomach, gnawing away at his appetite. He truly hated winter. Honestly, today, he kind of hated the entire world. He didn’t understand why it was so difficult for someone to just hire him. He was a good worker. He didn’t give lip and he didn’t miss deadlines and he was always, always punctual. But nobody could see past his ~issues~ to give him a chance anymore.

“M?” Raymond’s voice broke through Milo’s haze. His eyes were concerned and Milo realised with a jolt of embarrassment that he’d been staring. “You alright? You looked miles away.”

Milo smiled softly. “I suppose I was just getting lost in your eyes,” he said.

Raymond chewed slowly, giving Milo a sceptical look. “You’re a sap.”

“Guilty,” Milo quipped back, shovelling a spoonful of dull, boring porridge into his mouth before he could say anything else. They finished the rest of their breakfast in companionable silence.

When it finally came time for Raymond to leave, Milo found his anxiety spilling forth and wrapped his boyfriend up in a bear hug - or as much of a bear hug as one can give someone who’s nearly a foot taller.

“Be safe,” he whispered against Raymond’s thick winter coat. Milo remembered saving up to buy it last year. Before.

Raymond’s arms came around Milo’s back with the crinkling of fabric and Milo could have cried. He knew what would happen. They both knew what would happen. It might not be tonight or even tomorrow morning, but Raymond was going to catch something awful in this weather. With flu season starting up, Milo’s heart is in his mouth. He hates the snow; he hates it.

Raymond kisses the top of Milo’s head. “I’ll look after myself.”

Milo squeezed tighter. “Promise?”

Gently, Raymond untangled himself from Milo’s grip and tilted Milo’s head up to meet his eye. He smiled, soft and warm and full of everything they felt for each other.

“I promise,” he said.

So Milo let him go. He stared after him all the way down the street until he was out of sight.

He missed him.

[SpamKey]

Milo and Ray were always my favorites <3 this was a really sweet read! I love it!

[Kaze Wo Hiku]

God I missed these two darlings

[AdrianMarx]

Thank you @SpamKey and @Kaze wo Hiku for being sweet about my boys! I love them ^-^ but I also have NO ATTENTION SPAN so here are some new ocs!!! one of them is such a thinly veiled disguise for gareth malone that i legit didn't even bother changing his last name lmao enjoy

Title: The Choir
Characters: Evan and Thomas

The room was filled with chatter. Thomas surveyed the room with mild interest, fiddling absently with the zip of his hoodie and glancing occasionally at the clock. Choir practice wasn’t due to start for another few minutes but, sometimes, Mr Malone came early to set up and it was the choir’s worst kept secret that all of the girls, and most of the boys, had a heart-stopping crush on the choirmaster. Thomas was no exception. He liked to be on time in case Mr Malone took it upon himself to bend over to pick up a pencil.

Perhaps the most endearing thing about the choirmaster was that he was utterly oblivious to the effect he had on his students. He was small and sweet and quite soft-spoken with a smile that lit up his face, thick-rimmed glasses framing his light eyes. He often wore cardigans over his shirt and was known to fold the cuffs of his shirt up just once to expose his pale wrists. Thomas found something about this to be incredibly attractive.

Thomas was startled from his daydreaming when the door opened and Mr Malone stumbled in with his music books and wallets of sheet music tucked under one arm and a thermos held close to his chest. He wore a tan cardigan - Thomas was mildly embarrassed to admit that he knew it was a particular favourite - and his usual striped tie was almost entirely obscured by a blue tartan scarf which was wrapped snugly around his neck.

“Afternoon, everyone,” he greeted and Thomas immediately took note of the hoarse quality to his voice. He felt his eyes roaming to take in Mr Malone’s pink-tipped nose and flushed cheeks and quite suddenly found himself feeling a bit weak at the knees. He had to look away. Mr Malone continued, apparently unaware that every word he said made Thomas feel more and more like he might collapse. “I think I’m catching a cold so I’ll keep my distance from you today. My voice isn’t completely gone, though, so don’t think I’ll be letting you off easy.”

Some of the others laughed indulgently but Thomas was focusing all his attention on getting his breathing under control. Thankfully, nobody seemed to be paying any attention to him; their eyes were fixed on the object of their undisguised affections. Thomas’s eyes were fixed firmly on the back of Robin Wilder’s head.

Mr Malone settled himself at the piano and played an A chord. “After three. One two three.”

The choir sang the notes as they had done for weeks now until Mr Malone closed his hand as though snatching the note right out of the air.

“Alright, not bad,” said Mr Malone approvingly, weaving his fingers together and cracking his knuckles swiftly, making Thomas wince. He really did hate when he did that. “Okay, let’s go once through “I’m gonna sing” all together and then I want it in the round.”

Having split them into three groups, Mr Malone started playing, guiding them through the first set without a hitch. They’d only just begun the round, however, when the choirmaster dropped a note. Thomas glanced over in surprise and found Mr Malone letting out a breath before quickly curling into his body again and stifling another sneeze. His fingers didn’t falter on the keys this time. It took Thomas a moment to tune back into where he was supposed to be in the song.

His heart hammered and he berated himself frustratedly in his head. At twenty two, he really shouldn’t be acting like an insecure schoolboy. He was a postgrad student, for crying out loud. Now really wasn’t the time to start tripping over his feet at the sight of his crush with the sniffles. Though, thought Thomas’s treacherous brain, it really did seem like something a little more than the sniffles. If this was just the beginning of a cold, the poor choirmaster looked like he was in for a rough ride.

Still, Thomas supposed it wouldn’t hurt anyone if he enjoyed it while it lasted.