Beefic #5
For kelemvor: here we have New Adventures companion Chris Cwej and recurring supporting character Joel Mintz and a missing scene from The Room With No Doors and sex. >:-)
Joel makes sure that Chris spoons him, because if it was the other way around, his hard-on would become pretty obvious.
They're curled together for warmth, the tall, muscular blond and the skinny redheaded teen. It's fifteen sixty in Japan, just barely spring, and the air's like cold water. Hot sake helped them get to sleep. Then Chris shouted them both awake from a drunken dream. Joel had insisting on giving him a backrub until the Adjudicator drifted back into snoring like a motorbike.
Chris is so handsome it's almost ridiculous, thinks Joel. Whatever happened to the boy next door - the sun-tanned, crew-cut all-American male? Except for the part where Chris's yellow hair hangs down below his shoulders now. Joel had to push it out of the way for the massage, couldn't help combing his fingers through it as Chris relaxed beneath him. Oh God, he thinks, tucking his hands under his armpits, aaargh, God help me, I wonder how much I could get away with without waking him up.
What's it like to be a man where, when Chris comes from? It's not the sort of thing the Admiral ever talked about… are they complete conservatives like in Star Trek, where all the gays were maybe killed off in the Eugenics Wars? Or is everyone a total slut like in Brave New World? Please let them be sluts, thinks Joel. Oh yeah. Chris Cwej, very pneumatic. Whatever that means.
Chris shifts in his sleep. Joel freezes, then unfreezes long enough to whip his hand out of his pants, then freezes again. Chris mumbles. His fingers slide down Joel's belly in a smooth, slow motion, hesitating only for a moment at the open button of Joel's jeans, before slipping inside and firmly taking hold of the situation.
'Oh my God,' squeaks Joel.
'Hee hee hee,' says Chris.
Next up: the Eighth Doctor hath a phobia...
Joel makes sure that Chris spoons him, because if it was the other way around, his hard-on would become pretty obvious.
They're curled together for warmth, the tall, muscular blond and the skinny redheaded teen. It's fifteen sixty in Japan, just barely spring, and the air's like cold water. Hot sake helped them get to sleep. Then Chris shouted them both awake from a drunken dream. Joel had insisting on giving him a backrub until the Adjudicator drifted back into snoring like a motorbike.
Chris is so handsome it's almost ridiculous, thinks Joel. Whatever happened to the boy next door - the sun-tanned, crew-cut all-American male? Except for the part where Chris's yellow hair hangs down below his shoulders now. Joel had to push it out of the way for the massage, couldn't help combing his fingers through it as Chris relaxed beneath him. Oh God, he thinks, tucking his hands under his armpits, aaargh, God help me, I wonder how much I could get away with without waking him up.
What's it like to be a man where, when Chris comes from? It's not the sort of thing the Admiral ever talked about… are they complete conservatives like in Star Trek, where all the gays were maybe killed off in the Eugenics Wars? Or is everyone a total slut like in Brave New World? Please let them be sluts, thinks Joel. Oh yeah. Chris Cwej, very pneumatic. Whatever that means.
Chris shifts in his sleep. Joel freezes, then unfreezes long enough to whip his hand out of his pants, then freezes again. Chris mumbles. His fingers slide down Joel's belly in a smooth, slow motion, hesitating only for a moment at the open button of Joel's jeans, before slipping inside and firmly taking hold of the situation.
'Oh my God,' squeaks Joel.
'Hee hee hee,' says Chris.
Next up: the Eighth Doctor hath a phobia...