Fishtaccos
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Summary
March shakes his head, putting on that stupid voice he does when he’s trying to sound smart.
“It’s a perfectly natural reaction, anyone being touched there would have the same—”
“Being touched where? Here?” Healy’s palm grinds down, and March’s voice breaks around a whimper as he grips his wrist with two hands now. His shoulders lower, his head hanging as his lips part. His thighs press together, his blunt nails digging into Healy’s skin. His hair slides loose from its swept-back styling.
“Jack—”
“Yeah?” Healy twists his hand, his thumb pressing into the button on March’s pants, nudges it out of its holding. “Why’d you say my name?”
or;
Healy is getting pissed off with March, and they fight in the car. It escalates.
Series
- Part 4 of Short Fics
Bookmarked by Fishtaccos
22 Jul 2026
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“Jeez, okay, fine! Yes,” he admitted, nobly and honourably and definitely not with a pout, “perhaps I’m somewhat mildly in want of entertainment right now. Sue me!”
He heard Healy huff out a low laugh, one that seeped through the phone line to skate straight down March’s spine.
“And you called me for that?”
—
or: it’s late. it’s hot. march can’t sleep. clearly, the only logical solution is to call his business partner at one in the morning. y’know. like buddies do.
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- English
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Bookmarked by Fishtaccos
21 Jul 2026
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March was an expert at getting on Healy's nerves.
That's how they ended up here, in Healy's sorry excuse for a— how March had put it —living room, with March on his stomach and Healy above him, one knee digging into his spine.
Bookmarked by Fishtaccos
08 Jul 2026
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Healy thinks he’s especially beautiful like this though. When those blue eyes go all wide like a deer caught in the headlights, scenting of sun-drenched, ripe nectarines and peach sorbet, a hint of honey mixed in with it all, heavy and cloying. He’s wearing one of Jackson’s shirts, drenched in the fabric and not much else, those long, long legs on display. Close to his heat, Jackson notes in the back of his head– they’re regulated now that he's not drinking like a fish and on heavy, damn near military grade suppressants. Oh, and he’s holding Healy’s keys. Huh.
Bookmarked by Fishtaccos
07 Jul 2026
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Summary
March has an affliction for keeping his mouth occupied.
Healy has become plagued by the thought of putting that pout to better use and of shutting him up with something bigger than a cigarette.
Healy decides to go to a club to curb the distraction.
Bookmarked by Fishtaccos
04 Jul 2026