SCP WiPs that I'll never finish.

Icy release

A/N: This is my oldest WiP of this nature, from all the way back in 2018/2019 (Don't exactly remember when I first started writing it since I lost the original google doc for it)

It was supposed to be my first big fic, even bigger than my two previous ones with a lot of overarching themes and cool ideas. All of these are unedited, so excuse the bad writing.

CHAPTER 1

A blank white screen burned before Dr.Gears, the sound of Dr. Iceberg typing away filled his ears. He hummed to himself, looking over the screen once more. He had no clue what he was going to do. He'd received an email from his higher ups ordering him to move closer to the facility, stating that his commute was too long. They were right of course, his current residence was two and a half hours from the site, that combined with his tendency for early clock ins and late night shifts gave him the bad habit of falling asleep at work. But where would he go? Where he lived now, although not the best place, was the most affordable and closest to the facility. Gears' fingers hovered over his keyboard. He hated making excuses but there was no other choice. He pressed his left index finger alongside his little finger down on the 'T' and 'Shift' keys. He lifted them, not wanting to continue, stretching his hands as if to flex away his anxieties. He rested his hands on the keyboard once more, pulled them back, and repeated his ministrations until a voice broke him from his thoughts.

"Dr. Gears? Are you okay?" Asked the sweet, melodic voice of his assistant, Iceberg.

Gears looked up to the shorter, white haired man. He looked as he did every day, soft blue scarf around his neck, long sleeved plain shirt tucked into his khakis, lab coat that was a little too big for him. Absolutely handsome. Shame tingled behind Gears' sternum. He knew he shouldn't think of his assistant that way, much less another man, yet, he couldn't stop himself.

A second or two passed before Gears responded. "Yes, I'm simply trying to compose an email to the higher ups."

Iceberg came over to the side of his desk, leaning on it. "What about? I guess it's pretty big considering you're so fidgety."

"It isn't highly important, just an order for me to move closer to the facility. I cannot proceed with it."

Ice furrowed his brows. "Why not?"

"My current residence is perfectly suitable, it's only a long commute. Besides, where would I go?" Gears replied, taking a sip from his nearly empty coffee mug.

"You could live with me."

Gears jumped, choking on his drink for a few moments. He looked at Ice. "I believe sharing a residence would be considered... inappropriate, with our work positions. I would take up room in your house anyways. You don't need to do that for me."

"Gears, it's fine, my apartment is more than big enough to fit the both of us and it's definitely not weird if we live together. I mean, Roth lives with Clef and 'draki."

Gears paused, tapping his fingers against the desk. "I suppose I could move in..."

"Great! We can plan a moving date while we go get lunch." Ice said, perking up.

Iceberg grabbed one of Gears' hands hoisting him to his feet and pushing him toward the door to the mess hall.

"Why do you always drag me to lunch?" Gears said, attempting to wiggle from Ice's grip on his thin wrist.

"'Cause if I didn't you'd starve." He replied, holding on a little tighter.

"Am I not allowed to skip lunch?" Gears asked, sarcastically.

"Absolutely not."

"Even if I have to?"

"No, never."