Disabled
This very short ficlet came to me just a little while ago.
Had to write it.
Characters: Brian Kinney, Justin Taylor
Genres: Ficlet, Episode-Related, S4Timeline
Warnings: S4 spoilers
Summary: The beginning of 410, Brian and softness don’t go together. PG-13.
Disclaimer: All characters and situations from Queer as Folk are properties of Russell T. Davies, Ron Cowen and Daniel Lipman, Showtime, and others. No copyright infringement is intended. Just the plot is mine.
Feedback: STARVING HERE!
Disabled by FinnFan
Soft, golden hair you run your fingers through. Soft, pale cheek you brush with the pad of your thumb. Soft, moist lips you touch with your own...
He’s so soft.
Everything’s so God damned soft these days.
Even that part of your anatomy that was, is, famous for being quite the opposite.
WORK, GOD DAMNIT, WORK!
You flip your blond boy on his stomach as fast as you can to get rid of the images.
Disease-ridden ball, scalpel cutting you open...
NO! Don’t think about that. You’ve got your palms full of luscious ass and quite a delectable little twinkie attached to it.
Concentrate.
Good, good. You get the condom on, the lube...
Even your dick’s half hard.
Now, do what you do best--
The images hit you and make you slump, defeated, until you retreat to the edge of the mattress.
You’re soft. This calls for a cigarette.
Even an unlit one.
Had to write it.
Characters: Brian Kinney, Justin Taylor
Genres: Ficlet, Episode-Related, S4Timeline
Warnings: S4 spoilers
Summary: The beginning of 410, Brian and softness don’t go together. PG-13.
Disclaimer: All characters and situations from Queer as Folk are properties of Russell T. Davies, Ron Cowen and Daniel Lipman, Showtime, and others. No copyright infringement is intended. Just the plot is mine.
Feedback: STARVING HERE!
Disabled by FinnFan
Soft, golden hair you run your fingers through. Soft, pale cheek you brush with the pad of your thumb. Soft, moist lips you touch with your own...
He’s so soft.
Everything’s so God damned soft these days.
Even that part of your anatomy that was, is, famous for being quite the opposite.
WORK, GOD DAMNIT, WORK!
You flip your blond boy on his stomach as fast as you can to get rid of the images.
Disease-ridden ball, scalpel cutting you open...
NO! Don’t think about that. You’ve got your palms full of luscious ass and quite a delectable little twinkie attached to it.
Concentrate.
Good, good. You get the condom on, the lube...
Even your dick’s half hard.
Now, do what you do best--
The images hit you and make you slump, defeated, until you retreat to the edge of the mattress.
You’re soft. This calls for a cigarette.
Even an unlit one.