templemarker

“I don’t know, I think it would be kind of uncomfortable to ride. With your legs all tucked up like that? I don’t think it would be an hour before I’d need to take a walk.”

“I don’t know about all this gay shit, Rudy,” Pappy said without certainty.

When they were in crowded rooms together, sometimes Kris and Adam would text instead of talking. It was easier.

Kris isn’t sure when he stopped living like time mattered, but it happened at some point around the top four and hasn’t quit since.

Sometimes it was a stolen moment, a hard, bruising kiss the only promise they could make. It wasn’t much.

Probably the hardest thing to do with Brad Colbert was get him to sit still.

Dreams pass into the reality of action. From the actions stems the dream again.

Brad had always been a more than competent marksman, but he had never quite been able to compensate for his height when it came to hand to hand.

Kris Allen had gone into Starfleet after watching the terrifying spectacle of a Romulan drill careening into Earth, nearly destroying it like Vulcan just before. He was sitting in his mother’s house, eating roast chicken and thinking about work the next day and smiling at his best girl, when the alert came over the wire and everyone scrambled to see what it was.

McCoy finds him in his ready room, dark blond head bent over a console.

Kris had left Katy for all of six weeks when he decided he wanted to go out.

There was a lot of shit Brad called to mind about Nate Fick to get through his combat jack.

Fi’s nails raked across Michael’s back and he stifled the noise that wanted to escape his mouth.

The first time Logan had joked that Veronica couldn’t take him down, they were sixteen and a little drunk and in a room full of people who were entirely self-involved unless something really juicy was going down.

“I thought you wanted this, Dom.”