prompt me, please
Frakking frakking frakpants, you guys, IT'S COLD! Holy fuckersnaps! Brrrr. (OK. Maybe 11.3°C isn't cold by the standards of where you live, but I am a delicate flower and AM FREEZING MY FRIKKIN' BOOBIES OFF HERE! THINK OF THE BOOBIES.)
So, things to keep me us warm? Kitty/s? Check. (He's curled up on a pile of random junk on the desk right now. ( Read more... )
So, things to keep me us warm? Kitty/s? Check. (He's curled up on a pile of random junk on the desk right now. ( Read more... )
And for the porn: Bradley/Colin rps for this pic
Because this seriously needs to be written.
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“On the what?” said Bradley patiently, although he half wasn’t listening.
“The computer. The World Wide Web. And that site, what is it called?”
“You’re going to have to give me more than that. Wiki? YouTube?”
“Er, MyFace?”
“Er, yes. OK.”
“And I saw a picture. Of you.”
“Mmm?”
“Well, I’d like you to explain it to me.”
“It’s not hard to understand, Colin. When you’re as handsome as me, you acquire a number of fans. These fans collect images and put them on the internet so that other people - fans, or people like you perhaps - can drool over them. Simple really.”
“I don’t think anyone was drooling over this one.”
“Which one?”
“The picture I saw of you.”
“Show me.”
Some hours later, after Bradley’s nerves had been sorely tested, the picture was up on the screen.
“That’s the one,” said Colin.
“Er,” said Bradley.
“That the one that I’d like to you explain to me, please,” said Colin slowly, his blue eyes twinkling.
“Right,” said Bradley. “Er.”
* * * *
Bradley was in en suite bathroom, looking in the mirror. “Look what you’ve done to me!” he called to Colin in the other room.
“What?” said Colin, who was suddenly leaning in the doorway, looking smug.
“My lips,” Bradley ran his fingers over them, still looking in the mirror. “Your stubble and your teeth and, and … you’ve made them all red!”
“I didn’t hear you complaining.” Colin caught Bradley’s eye in the mirror.
“Well, no,” admitted Bradley. He scooped up some water with his hands and wet his face.
“It looks like you’re wearing lipstick,” said Colin, his eyes still fixed on Bradley’s face.
Bradley held Colin’s gaze and raised one eyebrow. “And you like it!” He ran the back of his hand over his mouth, slow and deliberate, his lips parted and slack. He fixed Colin with a smouldering look.
Colin’s smile was slow to form. “Maybe,” he said, his voice lilting and soft. “Maybe I do.”
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