clearing out my drafts folder

I almost can’t believe it, but I’m actually posting two fics within the space of a few days!! This week has been crazy productive. 

So this fic is not a Christmas fic, but it is kinda Christmas-y, because I wrote this while listening to copious amounts of Christmas music. It has a very different feel from the last fic I posted, but I hope you guys like it~ 

Sterek, ~6k words, rated T

It happens on a Monday. Derek stayed up stupidly late the night before, reading a weird German serial killer novel Erica lent him, and overslept. He’s running late, out of breath and a little sweaty from jogging all the way from the subway, and when he yells, “Hold the elevator!” an arm obligingly snakes out between the doors and he slips inside.

The guy who held the door for him doesn’t even look up. He’s slouching back against the wall, scrolling disinterestedly through his phone, his other hand curled around a bouquet of flowers wrapped in crinkly paper. He’s got messy brown hair and a mole right by his mouth, four more in a cluster along his jaw, and, under the scent of cold air and wet pavement that’s clinging to his jacket, he smells—good. Really good. Warm and a little gingery.

The elevator doors slide shut. Derek’s so focused on trying to look at him without letting the guy know he’s looking that it takes him an embarrassingly long time to realize the guy just said something. To Derek.

Derek blinks. “What?”

The guy smirks. “Running a little low on caffeine? I asked what floor you want.” He nods at the elevator buttons, and Derek flushes. Right.


The guy leans forward to press the button, and Derek leans in a little after him, trying to subtly smell him again.

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Upside Down ∠( ᐛ 」∠)_

Hijikata only means to stop by the apartment for a moment, just to pick up something he’d forgotten, but that’s… not what happens.

“Where’re my cigarettes?” Hijikata calls as soon as he enters — the door had been unlocked, as it always is.

“Here on the kotatsu!” Gintoki calls back. “Exactly where you left them, asshole.”

Hijikata enters the living room and finds Gintoki on his back with a Jump in hand. It’s not anything he hasn’t seen before and it’s not something he should even be thinking twice about, but he still pauses. They’ve been together how many months? And how many of those months have the kids, the Shinsengumi, and the rest of the godforsaken world known about them? Yet, still, Hijikata finds himself pausing at the sight of something so simple and familiar that his fingers twitch at his sides.

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