#FanFic #AWayOut #Snippet #Draft

“Okay, okay. Wait.” Already lightly swaying, Vincent stepped back and took a deep breath. “We g'nna try somethin' else… here.”

Leo watched him struggling to shrug off his t-shirt with growing amusement. “Waddaya doin'?”

When Vincent finally got out of the troublesome garment, he held it towards him. “You take mine, I take yours. C'mon!”

#FanFic #AWayOut #Snippet #CharcterStudy #Draft

“Vinnie!”

The word crawled its way up my spine, and stuck to my skin like syrup. I forced a smile on my face and suppressed the immediate urge to shower.

“Benjamin,” I answered, matching his enthusiasm with polite coolness.

#FanFic #Ficlet #AWayOut #Unpublished

Vincent stared at the blood-patched cloth drenched in vodka Leo was hovering in front of his face with dismay. “Another one? Don't you think this is enough now?”

He winced when the cloth was brought down on a small cut on his left cheek. Just as soon as the alcohol stopped burning in the wound, he had another bright pink band-aid with a grinning unicorn plastered on his face.

#FanFic #Drabble #AWayOut #Unpublished

“So, what's your problem with rooms?”

The brazen tone didn't fail to hit the mark. Vincent's expressions shifted from barely controlled panic to an ice-cold glare instantly.

“Fuck you, Leo.”

“What?” Leo continued. He'd been teased by the other man for his heights' problem. It was only fair that he got to return the favor. “C'mon, man. You owe me one. Besides, it's just a room.”

“A room you will get murdered in if you don't shut up,” Vincent pressed out through gritted teeth.

“Huh. Then you'd be trapped in here with a dead guy. Doesn't sound like an improvement to me.”

#FanFic #Ficlet #AWayOut #Unpublished

“Vincent, we need to get the hell out! The cops are here.” The call of the criminal, her husband had been obsessed with for the past six months, carried over to her hospital room.

Their baby started to fuzz in Vincent's arms at the sudden, nervous energy that the words brought with them.

When Carol lifted her head to look at her husband, his eyes were darting between his daughter and the door. Again, she was losing a battle she'd never wanted to fight. The need to follow the cry of that stranger was stronger than the pull of his own family.

Me, trying to explain what the fuck I'm writing about.