#mmmm i'm having shrimp emotions over these two you guys don't understandd TwT

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Might I humbly request some arson?

WIP Wednesday (5/15) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 172)

“I’m just saying… I mean, it’s alive,” 10 says, sounding stupid and making Andrew roll his eyes.

“Yes. I think the general idea is keeping it that way.”

“I know, I know. But it’s weird. To have something that depends on you like that? I couldn’t do it.”

“You keep yourself alive,” Andrew points out. “I’m not sure how, since you’re a magnet for trouble. But you do.”

10 laughs. “It’s different.”

“You’re stupid.”

“You’re stupider.”

“Perhaps,” Andrew says with a smile on his face. The way his heart flutters when 10 laughs is something he should probably get checked out, but he won’t. Before 10 can say anything else, Andrew’s kitchen timer goes off signifying that his brownies are done. “Oh, just a second.”

10 hums in acknowledgement and Andrew sets his phone down on the counter so he can take the pan from the oven and sit it atop the stove. He cuts a huge chunk out and dumps them into a bowl before piling a couple scoops of ice cream on top. The cookies and creme starts to melt immediately and Andrew’s glad he impulsively bought it at the store the other day.

He grabs his bowl and his phone, taking them both with him to the old armchair by the window— the one he’d stolen from Betsy’s office when she moved her practice— dropping into it like a lead weight with his legs bent under him. It’s raining this evening and it looks pretty on the window. Andrew digs into his mess of sweetness and puts his phone on speaker before sitting it on the arm of the chair.

“I’m back,” he announces.

“Welcome back,” 10 says. “Brownies good?”

“Haven’t tried them yet. But yes.”

“Give me some.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” Andrew snorts. “Do I look like a delivery man to you?”

“No. You look like a firefighter.” 10 says. Then, “Actually. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you I’m beginning to forget how you look. You had long brown hair, right? About six feet tall?”

Andrew can hear the laughter in his voice and rolls his eyes. “Yep, that’s me.”