If You Show Me Yours (S/A)
Title: If You Show Me Yours
Author: faith-omgwtfbbq
Rating: R
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
POV: First, Brendon.
Summary: Brendon is an art student, Ryan is a nude model.
I know what you’re expecting. Open mouthed lust. Grinding, and touching, and nudity. You’re expecting me to ask you, beg you, let me touch you, let me feel you.
Disclaimer: Not real. Don't own. Rated R, for suggestive situations. /eyebrow wiggle.
Beta:abwy95
Author Notes: at the end! (:
We are minor details.
We are the contour line of whatever should be.
You are glorious.
Carved in marble by the gods of art, and the gods of adoration.
Slender hips, smooth and cut so perfectly.
Wriggling toes, long legs, structural face; I suppose you are what they call perfection.
I know what you’re expecting.
Open mouthed lust.
Grinding, and touching, and nudity.
You’re expecting me to ask you, beg you, let me touch you, let me feel you.
Let me touch every inch, memorize every last hair, please, please, please.
But, I’m not going to beg.
I’m going to watch you standing still, going to map you out with a pen.
By the time we’re done, I’m going to know every bit of you without touching an inch.
From inside out.
And when we’re together, with the grinding and heavy breathing, I’ll know where to touch you.
The instructor is gazing over my shoulder, I’m working furiously to make you realize how little I care.
I care so very little.
When you step down from your podium, you’ll see me glancing at you; hi, hello there, what’s your name? That’s fascinating.
I’ll ask you for coffee; you do like coffee, right? That’s what I thought.
We’ll talk about our favorite artists, when did you starting getting into being a figure model? Wow, that long ago? You’re a natural.
I’ll ask you for a drink, next week, or next month; remember me, from that art class?
One drink, two drinks, three drinks, four; we’re buzzed, and my pants feel a little too tight right about now.
We’ll make a trip to the handicap stall; I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.
And then we’re back to where we started.
Naked, and new, and hey, have you always had that tattoo there? Well, it looks nice.
I’ll refer back to my map, remember every turn and sharp angle, and you’ve got my head spinning, because you know me better than I’d thought possible.
Goosebumps beneath calloused fingers, breathy questions, do you play guitar? Yeah, me too.
Gasps, and uncomfortable footsteps outside the door, and are there some faggots behind that door? They’ve got shitty taste in shoes.
At the peak of the night, double-entendre, your face is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I’ll wave a taxi down and send you home, I live in the opposite direction, it’s been fun, I’ll call you tomorrow.
I map you out with a pen, because I can see the future, and this map will be the greatest thing I’ve ever done.
////////
this was a prompt given to me by my good friend, Kat. (:
cross posted to the deviantart and mibba!
thank you to my little cousin abigail for bein' my beta (:
Author: faith-omgwtfbbq
Rating: R
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
POV: First, Brendon.
Summary: Brendon is an art student, Ryan is a nude model.
I know what you’re expecting. Open mouthed lust. Grinding, and touching, and nudity. You’re expecting me to ask you, beg you, let me touch you, let me feel you.
Disclaimer: Not real. Don't own. Rated R, for suggestive situations. /eyebrow wiggle.
Beta:abwy95
Author Notes: at the end! (:
We are minor details.
We are the contour line of whatever should be.
You are glorious.
Carved in marble by the gods of art, and the gods of adoration.
Slender hips, smooth and cut so perfectly.
Wriggling toes, long legs, structural face; I suppose you are what they call perfection.
I know what you’re expecting.
Open mouthed lust.
Grinding, and touching, and nudity.
You’re expecting me to ask you, beg you, let me touch you, let me feel you.
Let me touch every inch, memorize every last hair, please, please, please.
But, I’m not going to beg.
I’m going to watch you standing still, going to map you out with a pen.
By the time we’re done, I’m going to know every bit of you without touching an inch.
From inside out.
And when we’re together, with the grinding and heavy breathing, I’ll know where to touch you.
The instructor is gazing over my shoulder, I’m working furiously to make you realize how little I care.
I care so very little.
When you step down from your podium, you’ll see me glancing at you; hi, hello there, what’s your name? That’s fascinating.
I’ll ask you for coffee; you do like coffee, right? That’s what I thought.
We’ll talk about our favorite artists, when did you starting getting into being a figure model? Wow, that long ago? You’re a natural.
I’ll ask you for a drink, next week, or next month; remember me, from that art class?
One drink, two drinks, three drinks, four; we’re buzzed, and my pants feel a little too tight right about now.
We’ll make a trip to the handicap stall; I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.
And then we’re back to where we started.
Naked, and new, and hey, have you always had that tattoo there? Well, it looks nice.
I’ll refer back to my map, remember every turn and sharp angle, and you’ve got my head spinning, because you know me better than I’d thought possible.
Goosebumps beneath calloused fingers, breathy questions, do you play guitar? Yeah, me too.
Gasps, and uncomfortable footsteps outside the door, and are there some faggots behind that door? They’ve got shitty taste in shoes.
At the peak of the night, double-entendre, your face is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I’ll wave a taxi down and send you home, I live in the opposite direction, it’s been fun, I’ll call you tomorrow.
I map you out with a pen, because I can see the future, and this map will be the greatest thing I’ve ever done.
////////
this was a prompt given to me by my good friend, Kat. (:
cross posted to the deviantart and mibba!
thank you to my little cousin abigail for bein' my beta (: