Fics like in the way only you could

“So it’s been… twelve years?” Patrick asks around the filter. He inhales deeply, and when he finally lifts it from his lips he blows the smoke in a steady stream past Art’s ear. He holds the cigarette out towards Art, an offering. Art shakes his head. “Thirteen, actually,” not that he’s counting, “and, no, thanks, I quit,” he says. “Tashi wanted me to.” It feels weird to say her name here. Feels a little bit like an invocation, Repeat Tashi Donaldson three times in the mirror while spinning in circles and she’ll appear right behind you. “Right,” Patrick muses and takes another drag. “What have you been up to for thirteen years?” Art’s eyes roll towards him with an unimpressed slant. “As if you don’t already know that,” he says. His lips press together and he tilts his head at Patrick, daring him to contradict. Patrick shrugs one shoulder. “Sure I do,” he says. Knocks the same shoulder into Art’s. He’s close enough to do that. “But I want to hear it from you.” Or, shared cigarettes, shared lamentations, and shared breath after the Phil's Tire Town Challenger Final.

Fics like in the way only you could

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