WIp Challenge: Day 24, Saturday

[enemytosleep]

This is a bit early as I'll be on the road nearly all day and I'd rather it be open for everyone all day than have it go up after the Europeans have gone to bed!



How many new words did you write today? Did you reach your goal? Were you editing instead? Researching? Or was today a day of rest?

...and today's discussion topic:


Snippet day! You've worked hard all week, so let's see what you've been drafting. Please feel free to share a some of what you've been working on, ask for a beta/critique, offer to read something over, or just bask in the glory of your weekly word total!

Comments

[roane]

Today is mostly a planning/outlining day on my big Sherlock Sex, Drugs, and Rock & Roll AU of Doom. Which I am now apparently writing! I dunno how much I've written this week, I haven't been keeping track. A few thousand words, probably. So, here's a bit of the first scene that came to me for the AU. (Premise: set around the year 2000, so the boys are younger. Sherlock is a spoiled-rotten rising music star who just got out of rehab, John's the new tour manager trying to get back to civilian life after his stint in the army. Scene: Sherlock's just kicked everyone out of the dressing room after a show, except John, the new guy.)

Once the room is empty, Sherlock uses the towel to start drying off his hair, tousling it into wild waves. “So. My brother hired you to—what, make sure I stay on the straight and narrow?”

“Actually,” John says, moving to the now-empty couch, “your record company hired me to keep the money coming in and make sure you get to the bus on time. Straight and narrow—that's not my problem. As long as you're not fucking off during shows, I don't care what you do.”

“Good,” says Sherlock, meeting John's eyes in the mirror. “Because I don't do 'straight'.” He says the word with a grimace and a crisp bite to the last 't'.

“I'd heard,” John says, voice as mild as an April morning. He senses the challenge coming.

“What about you?”

John rests his elbows on his knees, leaning forward and cupping the beer bottle between both hands. “Me? I was in the army, like you said.”

“Meaningless.”

“Yeah well, anything more is none of your business.” John gives him a smile, all teeth.

Sherlock turns around from the mirror and deliberately walks closer. He plucks the beer bottle out of John's hands with long elegant fingers and drinks from it, the swallow shivering the white line of his throat. He sets it back in John's hands. “Could make it my business,” he says.

And there's the challenge John was expecting. “You really couldn't,” he says with a small laugh, leaning back against the couch as if he hasn't a care in the world.

[crowdog66]

Ooh, the tension in that exchange is thick enough to cut with a knife! And the sensual details are so effective! Very nicely done. :)

[roane]

Thank you! Yeah.. this is going to be a classic case of "they really hate each other, right up until the kissing starts". :) I am having way way way too much fun with this.