if there's one thing I hate more than anything, it's looking back on my old shit. it feels so bad. but I toughed it out since there's a lot of stuff on the side AO3 I have. this has been slightly edited because the old one was horrid

started: 20/6/2020

Woodie was being smug. Wilson despised it when Woodie acted smug. Woodie never listened to his half hearted threats, and followed him around when he tried to walk away. so, in a bout of desperation to make Woodie stop acting smug, Wilson stopped in his tracks, spun around, and glared at Woodie head on. Woodie cocked a brow in return, eyes half lidded in that stupid, down-right shit eating expression he always took for no apparent reason other than to piss Wilson off. Woodie was about to say something, which made Wilson raise his claws to cup the sides of Woodie's face in a sudden light hold. inky black sank into outstanding ginger, and suddenly, Woodie didn't look as smug anymore. the words died on his tongue the instant Wilson's claws connected with his face.

and then, Woodie just. stared at him. the smugness melted into. shock? horror? he couldn't rightly guess. and Wilson kept his claws in place, because shutting him up had worked, and he hadn't expected it to work, but it had, and now Woodie was physically leaning in to his hold, with that wide, doe eyed look, which made Wilson hesitate to pull away. Woodie's nose turned a bright shade of crimson, eyes the widest Wilson had ever seen them go. he could see the moon in them.

Wilson's first thought was "oh, fuck! I broke the Woodie!"

Woodie's first thought was "oh, fuck! I am horrendously bisexual!"

because the thing is, Wilson was never physically affectionate with him. Wilson was never touchy-feely on any level, his moments of touch so few and far between that Woodie could barely remember a clear time when Wilson had laid a claw on him. yet there he stood, cupping his face ever so softly, ever so tenderly, with such care and love in his hold, and Wilson didn't even realise he was being so heart numbingly tender.

to put it simply; Woodie was touch starved as all hell, and Wilson cupping his cheeks had fucked him up severely.

there was a point where Wilson was holding Woodie up by his cheeks alone, because he'd slumped that much into his claws. Woodie couldn't muster the energy to move his limbs, or kick start his frazzled brain into action, because Wilson was holding his face, and his vision had tunnelled in to see everything of him - the dim white star in his pupil, the dark bags under his eye, his faint but prominent stubble, the crows feet and laugh lines. the details were there, all so clear, so close.

wow! wish I could kiss him right aboot now!

'-die? Woodie? are-are you alright?' creased brows, down turned mouth, worried expression. oh, right. he had to move again at some point, didn't he?

it was reluctant, but he finally got himself moving. he leaned backwards, and Wilson let his face slip free from his claws. Woodie's cheeks burned from both the contact and his embarrassment, eyes locked on Wilson's expression, who seemed to be in a state of self consciousness. he was wringing his claws together, shifting from one foot to the other, refusing to look Woodie in the eyes. as Woodie glanced around, he realised that it was getting late, the deep orange settling over the Constant and the birds thinning in their flocks.

'… well, then! I'm glad you've completed your task of annoying me for the day!' it was clear that Wilson was feeling some kind of effect, too, though Woodie would bet everything he had that Wilson had no idea what the effect was. talk about an oblivious guy. 'let's head back home; and I swear to science, if you start talking shit again, I will run all the way back and not wait for you.' it took a hot minute for Woodie to get his legs in to motion, and once Wilson had turned his back, he rose a hand to rub at his cheek. he could still feel the claws there, holding him so softly it made him want to burst into tears. it made his mind short circuit, his heart go all wobbly, his head feel light and funny. it made him feel warm and full of love.

…

oh, dear. I have it real fucking bad, eh.