There will (hopefully) be 100 short stories or drabbles in this set, each relating to a particular mood, from the LJ 100moods community's list. They will not be in order because I suck. Updates will be sporadic, but there should be at least one or two a week.
Nervous
Notes were piled up over Kyle's desk. Many sheets of paper had spilt onto the floor and been kicked around, now encasing Kyle and his desk in a prison of paper. Nearby, a small cityscape had been created with piles of books; it was hard for Stan to resist the temptation to do a Godzilla impression and kick them all to the ground. Instead, he remained firmly rooted on his bed, frequently looking up to see how his boyfriend was doing. The prisoner looked up and out of the window mournfully.
"It's dark already. I didn't get to go outside at all today," he said.
"I did try to drag you out earlier," Stan said. "You threw a book at my head."
"I don't want to fail, Stan," said Kyle quietly. "What would my mom do?"
"Kyle, you've had top marks in all your essays so far. Your tutor wants to publish one of them. You are not going to fail." Kyle stood up and began walking up and down their tiny room.
"But what if we get asked about English influences on the colonies? Or how the hierarchy affected the politics of the time and whether it worked as they had intended? I can't remember many historians' views on that; I'll get marked down for not being able to give historiographical details." Stan lunged out and pulled Kyle down onto the bed. Kyle stared blankly up at him as Stan ran a finger down his chest in a zigzag.
"You'll be fine, Kyle," Stan said. "You always get like this the night before an exam and you always do brilliantly."
"There's a first time for everything," Kyle replied. His expression softened as Stan slipped a hand beneath his top and began rubbing his chest. "Mm. 'S nice."
"Yeah, and the first time you fail a test will be the same day aliens lobotomise you." Kyle chuckled.
"I feel like I should be writing more notes," he said, looking back guiltily at his desk. Stan took Kyle's face in his hands and turned it back to him.
"Do you really hate the rainforests that much?" Stan teased. His hands slid down Kyle's torso and lightly fingered Kyle's belt buckle. "Come on, dude. You always stress out the night before, don't sleep properly and feel awful on the day. How about we get rid of that nervous energy?"
"Well...," said Kyle, his gaze flicking back to the desk. Stan rubbed firmly on his crotch with the palm on his hand. Kyle wriggled a little and finally managed a smile. "Mmm..." Stan took that as a sign of assent.
They both slept well that night.