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sidewaysTitle: Summer
Rating: G
Genre: Domestic? Sci-fi universe but none of those elements are referenced so uh.
Wordcount: 326
Summary: Summer was an unkind season.
Remarks: Down in my homeland summer is approaching with a vengeance. In honour of the next few oven-esque months, have a derpsome little flashfic.
His legs were slowly baking in the sun, crisping a fresh golden-brown as each and every hair plumed pitiful puffs of smoke, shrivelling away. He should not have worn shorts, he acknowledged silently. Summer was an unkind season.
When sudden coolness swept across in place of the steady heat, it was a welcome enough surprise that he paused and, one hand still firmly pressing the oblong metal contraption against the space it supposedly belonged inside, twisted just enough to see past the length of his body to the gap between driveway and car bottom. It was space enough to see another pair of legs standing upright, balanced sensibly in a pair of thongs to defy the volcanic temperatures of the cement.
"How is it going?"
"Wonderfully," he replied, tearing his gaze away from legs that definitely belonged in shorts and turning it back towards the spread of grimy metal bare inches from his nose. "Much better now, though. Just don't move."
"Will it be much longer?" The coolness shifted, but thankfully only to spread as she took the hint for what it was and adjusted her stance accordingly.
He shrugged automatically, rolling the gear slightly to the left. "I don't imagine so. I've cleaned it all out, so the only thing left is to fit this back into place and see if that's made a difference- ack!" He jerked his fingers back as the gear chose to oblige, as if all that had been required was a verbal urging. Rubbing the pinched digits together, he wriggled backwards until he could bend himself out from under the car and into a sitting position without taking any permanent damage to his spine. He thunked his shoulders back against the side of the vehicle and raised his eyebrows up at her. "There."
"Good boy." It had taken him years to learn to pinpoint that subtle brush of amusement. "I made lemonade."
God, Denham thought with satisfaction. I love summer.
Rating: G
Genre: Domestic? Sci-fi universe but none of those elements are referenced so uh.
Wordcount: 326
Summary: Summer was an unkind season.
Remarks: Down in my homeland summer is approaching with a vengeance. In honour of the next few oven-esque months, have a derpsome little flashfic.
His legs were slowly baking in the sun, crisping a fresh golden-brown as each and every hair plumed pitiful puffs of smoke, shrivelling away. He should not have worn shorts, he acknowledged silently. Summer was an unkind season.
When sudden coolness swept across in place of the steady heat, it was a welcome enough surprise that he paused and, one hand still firmly pressing the oblong metal contraption against the space it supposedly belonged inside, twisted just enough to see past the length of his body to the gap between driveway and car bottom. It was space enough to see another pair of legs standing upright, balanced sensibly in a pair of thongs to defy the volcanic temperatures of the cement.
"How is it going?"
"Wonderfully," he replied, tearing his gaze away from legs that definitely belonged in shorts and turning it back towards the spread of grimy metal bare inches from his nose. "Much better now, though. Just don't move."
"Will it be much longer?" The coolness shifted, but thankfully only to spread as she took the hint for what it was and adjusted her stance accordingly.
He shrugged automatically, rolling the gear slightly to the left. "I don't imagine so. I've cleaned it all out, so the only thing left is to fit this back into place and see if that's made a difference- ack!" He jerked his fingers back as the gear chose to oblige, as if all that had been required was a verbal urging. Rubbing the pinched digits together, he wriggled backwards until he could bend himself out from under the car and into a sitting position without taking any permanent damage to his spine. He thunked his shoulders back against the side of the vehicle and raised his eyebrows up at her. "There."
"Good boy." It had taken him years to learn to pinpoint that subtle brush of amusement. "I made lemonade."
God, Denham thought with satisfaction. I love summer.
