All prompts are from the LJ community staringout.

#492-The hunt for organic waffles started at 6 a.m.

The hunt for organic waffles started at 6 a.m. Derek wasn't certain exactly what prompted it, but when he pulled out the package of frozen Eggos, Spencer had gotten a strange look on his face and said "Oh, I think we can do better than that." They'd ended up combing through six different grocery stores, two gas stations, and what Derek thought might have been an old woman's kitchen, but that Spencer insisted was actually a small, family run market, before Spencer found a box that managed to convince him that it was entirely organic and cruelty free. Two hours after the search initially started, they were back in Spencer's kitchen, faced with a whole new problem. He didn't have a toaster, the microwave was broken-a casualty of great, slightly rowdy kitchen sex the night before-and he was currently using his oven as a spare linen closet. They ended up spearing the waffles on forks and holding them over the glowing stove burners until the cheap metal was too hot to comfortably touch. The outsides were burnt and the insides were still frozen, but as they sat cuddled together on the couch, gnawing on their waffle kabobs, Derek had to admit that he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a breakfast as good as that one.

#484-write about the heavy weight

It was strange sleeping with another person, Spencer decided. The press of an unfamiliar body against his back should have felt crowding. The dead weight of an arm around his waist, pinning him in place, should have made him feel trapped. The feel of warm, humid breath against the back of his neck should have been uncomfortable. Instead it was comforting, reassuring, pleasant. Yes, Spencer decided, he liked sharing his bed.

Behind Spencer, Derek kept his body relaxed, feigned sleep, and tried to keep the feeling that he'd just made a huge mistake and potentially ruined a friendship from suffocating him.

#480-write about the sudden storm

The lightning flashes, the thunder crashes, the power fails, and he doesn't have his emergency candles. Spencer stands in the middle of Derek's living room and chants 'everything's fine, he'll be back soon, everything's fine, he'll be back soon', his eyes frantically scanning the room for a flashlight or a candle or a lighter or a glow stick or anything. He's about to start hyperventilating when over the sounds of the storm, he hears the front door open, and Derek walks in, soaking wet and carrying Chinese food. Spencer hurls himself at the other man and hides his face in his neck, not quite able to disguise his trembling. When Derek's arms come up to encircle him, he doesn't mind that they just spilt their dinner or that the rain that had drenched Derek is quickly seeping into his clothes, because in that moment it's as if a floodlight just switched on.

I'm going to blame these entirely on hpw5011 over on LJ, because the first drabble was written as a comment fic for her and it just sort of snowballed from there. Okay, so the middle one's angsty, but I think I can safely say that I delivered on my promise of fluff.

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