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This is a place for my writings that I figure are too short for oneshots on Ao3 but people may still want to read, so here you go!

"You could have gotten fired!" Micky hissed out quietly, anger dissipating as his face scrunched up, gulit leaking into his voice at the idea. He couldn't help as his eyes darted around the area, anxiety blossoming as he realized anyone could have been watching-a thought that did not seem to occur to his counterpart.

"I wouldn't have fucking cared if I got fired!" The words were harsh, Micky flickering back to find Mike's hands thrown into the air, his eyes squinted as his nostrils flared, invisible smoke escaping as he scowled deeper, "Most of them wouldn't have cared!"

"I would have cared," Micky's voice was soft, trembling just slightly. The confession was quiet, but sharp, seeming to cut through the rage Mike radiated, his eyes widening before softening. Micky's hands finally found themselves becoming looped in eachother as he leaned back on the balls of his feet, his eyes drifting away from Mike's face, a poster on the studio lot's wall seeming to become a thousand times more interesting, his stomach twisting and churning.

Each moment of silence from Mike hit like a wave, threatening to steal more and more Micky's breath as anxiety continued to brew- to grow, still Micky couldn't find it in himself to regret his words, to retract them.

I would.

Davy couldn't help but fold into himself, blinking back a deep seeded feeling that seemed to boil to the surface. He could himself start to break out into sweat, the back of his shirt sticking to the back of the seat as he tried so so hard to sleep. He knew he could maybe crack a window open, maybe reach over and turn the car on to turn on the air conditioner.

But Davy wasn't looking to get robbed or hurt. He didn't even really want to be in this car but he wasn't stupid enough to stay in the house.

He was stupid enough to stay with her though.

Closing his eyes, Davy sucked a breath in, a wave of nausea swirling inside, "Fuck," he could still remember her figure ontop of another man, the bare freckles and moles sparkling under the dim light of the party cracking through the door he had latched onto. The way her body moved in motions he wished he could scrub from his mind.

Despite how sick he felt, how the comfort he had longed from her, the thing that drove him to look, had been demolished in a moment, he knew he wouldn't leave. Not yet.

A sniffle escaped him, something catching in his throat. He didn't want to think about it anymore, to allow his mind to race, to wonder why deep down he knew he could care less if she had slept with another man.

He tries to think of something, listing things he had done earlier in the day to trying to remember the last song he had listened to, something something by the beatles. Finally he mind rests back on the memory of the pretty boy, the boy he never got the name of, the boy he couldn't stop staring at.

He could still see his large smile, how his face creased with his dimples, his eyes squinting in delight. Davy's stomach twisted in the other direction as he remembered how he turned that smile onto Davy as they spoke, as if Davy said the funniest thing in the world.

Davy knew it was due to whatever he had taken, he had that far away in the sky look that only one who had taken something wonderful could have and yet... And yet Davy felt like he really become akin to him.

The way he would ramble out things into the dark, incoherent and almost roundabout sentences that made Davy's head spin just trying to follow. Even when Davy would finally speak, sitting up just to try to get a good look at him in the dark as he stuttered out "What?", all to watch the way the boy broke, giggling and smiling even brighter.

Davy found himself matching that smile, maybe smiling even wider as the dim moonlight continued to leak into the room, almost giving the sweet boy a halo. Slowly laying back down, he had turned onto his side, his legs curling similar to an position similar to the one he was in at the moment.

He remembered the boy mimicking his movement, still smilingly brightly in the shadows as he giggled, his head leaning forward, Davy's breath catching for a moment. The boy's eyes shined brightly as he spoke again, the words coming out as soft mumbles of gibberish, not that Davy minded. Or cared.

He found himself too entranced to, staring at this boy so delightful and bright and wonderful, his stomach knotting with each word, each movement. Moments that had passed too quickly.

So Davy pretended they were still there, still talking away, away from his girlfriend, away from the boy's friends, away from the world.

Away from this shitty car in the hot summer night.