Golf (Hugh/Stephen)
TITLE: Golfing
AUTHOR: Cuddlyfruit
PAIRING: Hugh/Stephen (Huphen)
RATING: PG-13? Maybe?
WARNINGS: Too much innuendo.
SUMMARY: Hugh really, really wants to go golfing…
DISCLAIMER: I don't own them, or they'd go, ahem, golfing all the time.
NOTES: Written very quickly. The idea was just kind of fun.
"Stephen!"
Stephen hummed disinterestedly at the anguished cry.
"Stephen, come quickly!"
Stephen bit lightly at the end of his pencil. Odd wording to this sentence. It could be improved.
"Stephen! Come quickly!" Pause. "For God's sake, Stephen." A mussy-haired head-a head of the seeing, hearing, and tasting variety-peered round the door jamb and into the room. "I'm calling piteously. You could pay attention. I even added a little innuendo…"
"Sorry, my butterfly. Bit busy here." Stephen scratched out the offending sentence with a frown. "Absolute drivel. I really should have read the book."
"Stephen, I'd really like you to come with me. Maybe we could play pool. Mess with some really long sticks."
"Mm, yes, maybe later," Stephen murmured, pondering a paragraph.
"We should go out and seize this beautiful day, Stephen," Hugh said, miming a seizing motion with one hand, determined to rouse the other man. "We should pump the weather for all it's worth. Polish" Hugh rhythmically rubbed his hand in the air, as if polishing a candlestick "our golfing skills, maybe. We could thrust ourselves into a nice game of golf, yes." Hugh's eyes unfocused slightly. "I'd hit that long, hard stick against the ball. The ball would land with a slap, oh, yes, a slap! Right down the hill. The lush, sloping hill--such a beautiful curve on that hill, so full and, and the vale between the two hills… Exquisite! And in that vale, a single small hole… A… hole…" Hugh stared, wide-eyed, at a corner of the room.
Stephen rubbed his sweaty palms on his trousers. He had felt himself becoming oddly agitated while writing this newest paragraph. He couldn't seem to sit still, and his heart was beating quickly. He shifted in his chair, eyes widening at the sensation. What was going on here?
"Stephen…"
Stephen turned to look at Hugh. His bright blue eyes were glossy, pupils blown wide and dark. It was too much. Thrusting (and oh, what an exciting word that was!) his pencil away, Stephen pounced upon the poor wobbling boy, sending them to the floor with a--slap? No, no, strange how that word came to him, but it was most definitely a thump.
x-posted to fryandorlaurie
AUTHOR: Cuddlyfruit
PAIRING: Hugh/Stephen (Huphen)
RATING: PG-13? Maybe?
WARNINGS: Too much innuendo.
SUMMARY: Hugh really, really wants to go golfing…
DISCLAIMER: I don't own them, or they'd go, ahem, golfing all the time.
NOTES: Written very quickly. The idea was just kind of fun.
"Stephen!"
Stephen hummed disinterestedly at the anguished cry.
"Stephen, come quickly!"
Stephen bit lightly at the end of his pencil. Odd wording to this sentence. It could be improved.
"Stephen! Come quickly!" Pause. "For God's sake, Stephen." A mussy-haired head-a head of the seeing, hearing, and tasting variety-peered round the door jamb and into the room. "I'm calling piteously. You could pay attention. I even added a little innuendo…"
"Sorry, my butterfly. Bit busy here." Stephen scratched out the offending sentence with a frown. "Absolute drivel. I really should have read the book."
"Stephen, I'd really like you to come with me. Maybe we could play pool. Mess with some really long sticks."
"Mm, yes, maybe later," Stephen murmured, pondering a paragraph.
"We should go out and seize this beautiful day, Stephen," Hugh said, miming a seizing motion with one hand, determined to rouse the other man. "We should pump the weather for all it's worth. Polish" Hugh rhythmically rubbed his hand in the air, as if polishing a candlestick "our golfing skills, maybe. We could thrust ourselves into a nice game of golf, yes." Hugh's eyes unfocused slightly. "I'd hit that long, hard stick against the ball. The ball would land with a slap, oh, yes, a slap! Right down the hill. The lush, sloping hill--such a beautiful curve on that hill, so full and, and the vale between the two hills… Exquisite! And in that vale, a single small hole… A… hole…" Hugh stared, wide-eyed, at a corner of the room.
Stephen rubbed his sweaty palms on his trousers. He had felt himself becoming oddly agitated while writing this newest paragraph. He couldn't seem to sit still, and his heart was beating quickly. He shifted in his chair, eyes widening at the sensation. What was going on here?
"Stephen…"
Stephen turned to look at Hugh. His bright blue eyes were glossy, pupils blown wide and dark. It was too much. Thrusting (and oh, what an exciting word that was!) his pencil away, Stephen pounced upon the poor wobbling boy, sending them to the floor with a--slap? No, no, strange how that word came to him, but it was most definitely a thump.
x-posted to fryandorlaurie