Thursday’s Tiny Tales: Labscapades 2

Wes loved handling the ninety-six-well plate in the lab. Pipetting was a meditative process, and he loved the rhythm of it: press the plunger of the micropipette, dip its tip in the vial of dye, draw the dye into the tip, transfer into the plate. Then repeat, changing the tip for every row.

It was nice. A little boring, but nice nonetheless.

He switched out the plate he completed for a new one. The lab was pretty empty, but he still checked to see if anyone, especially Hugh, was standing around. When he was sure no one was watching him, he turned back to the plate and contemplated it.

With a slight smile, he dipped the tip into the dye and started. He filled the wells in a pattern, starting with a well in the middle of the plate and moving upwards. When he finished the outline, he moved on to filling it in.

He set his pipette down and admired his plate, pleased at the neat heart that was now visible in it. He thought of taking a picture of it, and maybe making a nerdy valentine out of it. but before he could reach for his phone, a hand squeezed his shoulder, and Wes nearly fell off his stool. 96 well plate with heart design

“What the hell are you doing?”

Of course it was Hugh, the grad student who was also the TA for his Microbiology class, and the one guy Wes had a hopeless crush on.

“Uh… I was just… being creative?” Wes looked up at him and shrugged, smiling innocently.

Hugh gave him a sceptical look before his eyes flicked back to Wes’s plate. “As long as you don’t screw it up,” he muttered, before turning away to check on something else.

But Wes could swear he saw the hint of a smile on Hugh’s face.


I’ve decided to make Labscapades a little series thingie, because I love the idea of it.

I own the photo used.



Thursday’s Tiny Tales: Labscapades

Wes was going to have a nerdgasm.

He tried hard to keep his eyes on the whiteboard and not on the new TA that had joined a week ago. Hugh was tall, and stern, and handsome, and really knew what he was talking about.

There wasn’t anything Wes found hotter than that.

Except maybe for the passion in Hugh’s eyes when he spoke about the subject; that was hotter.

He covetously traced the man’s broad hands with his eyes, memorizing the landscape of dark hair on his forearms, the swell of veins on the back of his hand, and the long, thick fingers that wrapped around the marker, spinning every time Hugh paused to explain a detail with clarity and precision.

He was daydreaming of just what exactly those fingers could do to him when the sound of a throat clearing brought him back to the present.

Oh shit, busted.

I know I’m a day late, but I didn’t want to skip another week, so here’s a Friday’s Tiny Tale.