frauleinfauxpas:

bean-about-townn:

squid-inspiration:

bean-about-townn:

bisexualpirateheart:

bean-about-townn replied to your post: modern laundromat au where Thomas and James’s…

i would read it

Bean, you would read fic where James lies on the floor by the fire staring at the back of Thomas’s head for an hour while Thomas writes at his desk and doesn’t realize James is even doing it. 

…true 

here you go, enjoy.

---

“You know, as a
boy I had a tomcat that would do the same thing.”

“Mh?”

James raised his head
from his hands; realising that he hadn’t even noticed when the steady
scratch of writing had ceased. Thomas sighed, a sound of fond
exasperation, and put the quill down before turning away from his
manuscript.

“A lovely orange
tabby, in fact.” Thomas shifted far enough to sit sideways on
the chair, draping his crossed arms over the back. He failed to
suppress a mischievous grin. “While I was writing he’d jump up
onto the table or the window sill and watch me scratch away, barely
flicking his tail, he was so intent.”

James resisted the urge
to shift to prove how very much he had not been transfixed. how long had it been? Surely the candles couldn’t have
burned that far down.

Except they had.

“The question that
arises,” Thomas went on, extending a hand pensively, “is
why, of course. Despite their strong personalities, cats aren’t the
greatest of thinkers, so I suppose a moving pen must be an amusing
enough diversion, even for an hour. That solves the tabby’s mystery.
But what about you, love? You could read my words and be
entertained, except you are down by the fire where you can see
nothing but the back of my head. What is diverting you?”

It took James a moment
to notice that his own mouth had widened in a slow smile.

“I was once
accused of conjuring a tempest,” he said and watched Thomas’
brows rise in amused interest. “That the mere darkness of my
thoughts had drawn down the storm upon us.”

“Is that so?”
Thomas pensively bit the nail of his thumb, as he was wont to do these days.
“And what storm are you conjuring tonight?”

“No storm,”
James sighed and shifted onto his side. “But if I can draw down
the heavens with dark thoughts, I thought it might be worth the
exercise to try and see if I can draw my husband down to the hearth
rug with some warm ones.”

Thomas couldn’t help
but capitulate into a soft, guffawing laugh at that; that charmingly
undignified sound he had always reserved for moments with his loved
ones. His forehead dropped to his arms for a moment, before he lifted
his eyes until they just barely caught the fire light.

“How warm?”

James grinned. “You’d
have to come down here to the fire to find out.”

Thomas held his gaze a
moment longer before giving in. Let no one accuse him of neglecting
his scientific research.

…i LOVE IT

_myhusband_