I saw your post of the fanfic ideas and would like to kindly suggest the roommate au for my favourite antebellum ship, kingchanan.
But I just wanted to add, is it really an au if it actually happened? Wouldn't the au be them not being roommates?
[modern au roommates? i'm actually not well versed on my kingchan lore so this might be ooc]
It’s in the fourth month that James Buchanan realizes that he’s already garnered more than enough money on his own to justify not having to share the same room with William King.
“So, I can move out now.” Buchanan says on the morning of the twelfth day of the sixth month of the year. Summer swelters, even in the morning, which is justification for King to not be wearing any top clothes. He serves scrambled eggs and bacon for two onto the table. “I have enough money for it– rent out the nice room next door, so we can still meet.”
“That’s good to know. When are you moving out?”
King’s eyebrows furrow just enough so that there’s a slight glistening in the bridge of his nose. Buchanan’s eyes shift from King’s face.
“Well, uh.” he says. “I haven’t really decided that yet.”
“Stay as long as you need.” is King’s response. Buchanan mumbles a ‘great’, stabbing his eggs ruthlessly as King starts going through the daily plans.
There are moments where Buchanan regrets having met his roommate.
“I’m sorry.” King says from out of the pseudo doorway to the apartment bedroom. Buchanan glowers, his eyes wet with continuing tears. “It was a bad joke. I shouldn’t have made it. Do you want me to do anything to make it up to you?”
“Sleep on the rooftop.” Buchanan orders, and he shouts it.
“I might catch a cold from that.” King says. “Or tuberculosis.”
“I don’t care! I don’t want to see you here!”
“This is kind of my apartment-”
“Shut up!”
There’s a moment of silence.
There’s a moment of rustling from the other end, and after a few minutes of the same shifting, packing noise, Buchanan’s curiosity gets the better of him and he opens the door. His feet storm and he sniffs as he opens it.
“Are you really going to do it?” he asks. He realizes his eyes must still be a little puffy from crying because King’s amusement wavers a little too much.
“Well I’m preparing for it.” King answered. He arched an eyebrow. Buchanan realized that he was packing a sleeping bag. “Do you still want me to go? Because I checked to see if there was going to be rain tonight, and there isn’t, so I guess it isn’t that bad.”
Buchanan took a moment to compose himself.
“You aren’t afraid of falling off?” he asked.
“I know how to do it.” King replied.
He looked at Buchanan expectantly, watching as he swallowed a lump in his throat. After a second, he dared to sigh.
“Mind if I join?” Buchanan muttered, because he was starting to think sleeping on the rooftop is fun. There’s a moment where King looks like he wants to object, then he shrugs.
“Sure.” King beams. “I’ll show you how to not fall off.”
“I’m sorry for blowing up at you.” Buchanan mumbled. “What do I need to pack.”
“I’m your better half.” King agrees. “Get some toiletries.”
There are moments where Buchanan regrets a lot of things.
They remain only moments.
“You know when I first met you,” King tells him. “You were the most disheveled, pathetic bastard I’ve ever met?”
“Are you supposed to tell me that you’ve changed your opinion since then?”
He’s not too upset, but there’s something endearing about the way that he’s able to make his roommate backtrack so quickly. Buck laughs, takes another drink.
“Relax.” he said.
“I know, this needs maintenance.” He gestured at himself. “Not like you have to stress about it.”
“That’s not what I mean.” King mutters, his eyelids half-closed and teeth showing through his grin. “I just want you to know you still look like trash
, so if you ever feel that I might want to leave you one day because of your ugliness, just know that if I cared that much about that, I’d’ve thrown you out of my apartment years ago.”
“How nice.”
“Mmm.” King agrees. Buchanan buys another drink, because it’s rather unfair for King to be more drunk than he is at this hour. “Hey, do you mind if I call you Buck?”
“Mind if I use up some more of your money?” All these shots of bourbon are out of King’s pocket, after all. Buchanan chugs down another glass.
King shakes his head.
“Okay, Buck then.” he mutters, suddenly tossing his head onto Buchanan- Buck’s shoulder. “Do you mind if I call you Nancy?”
“You really need a taxi.” When King doesn’t respond, Buck reached over to set him up gently. He stops midway, partly because it looks like King’s already asleep, partly because… well.
“You can call me whatever you want.”
Buck orders another drink.
“I love you.” William says one day– not out of the blue. Buck grabs up his things on the way to work, and he looks back while opening the door.
“I’m taking the car,’ he tells William, because usually, it’s him that takes the car on Tuesdays and Thursdays and Saturdays, but Buck has a conference today, so it’s not like he can spare much.
“Okay,” William responds from the back. He’s setting up his computer for al ong day of meetings again. “Love you. I mean it.”
“Love you back.” Buck replies. “I’ll bring you donuts.”
He’s already driving to work, before the words click into his brain.
When he gets back, William’s already finished with the day’s online interviews, his legs crossed on a couch while a book splays on his lap.
He looks up with a smile.
“Strawberry.” Buck tells him. William squints, his dark hair messy in his eyes. It somehow doesn’t intrude on his collected posture and still perfectly-pressed suit.
“Didn’t realize I also asked for cake.”
“Dating gift.” Buck replies. William’s eyes widen just a little. “Unless I misheard.”
“No– you didn’t.” He gets up before smiling at Buck. In his hand, he’s already holding a spoon, dark eyes bright. “Are we supposed to share?
Clearly, he means it rhetorically.
5 notes
·
View notes
Round one
Commodores
Formed in: 1968
Genres: Funk, soul
Lineup: Lionel Richie – vocals, saxophones, acoustic piano, keyboards
Milan Williams – keyboards
Thomas McClary – vocals, guitars
Ronald LaPread – bass
Walter Orange – vocals, drums, percussion
William King – trumpet
Albums from the 80s:
Heroes (1980)
In the Pocket (1981)
All the Great Hits (1982)
Commodores 13 (1983)
Nightshift (1985)
United (1986)
Rock Solid (1988)
Propaganda:
Marillion
Formed in: 1979
Genres: Neo prog, art rock
Lineup: Fish – vocals
Steve Rothery – guitars; additional bass guitar
Mark Kelly – keyboards
Pete Trewavas – bass guitar
Ian Mosley – drums, percussion
Albums from the 80s:
Script for a Jester's Tear (1983)
Fugazi (1984)
Real to Reel (1984)
Misplaced Childhood (1985)
Brief Encounter EP (1986)
Clutching at Straws (1987)
B'Sides Themselves (1988)
The Thieving Magpie (La Gazza Ladra) (1988)
Seasons End (1989)
Propaganda:
4 notes
·
View notes