Drabble: Lessons
Title: Lessons
Word Count: 200
Genre: RPS
Characters/Pairing: Noel/Julian
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Don't own them and sadly never will. No profit - all for fun.
Author's Comments: Second submission for boosh_shorts Challenge 12: Writer's Choice Two in one night? Wahey! This is completely blamed on alcohol... and Brie's advancements...
“Concentrate Noel.”
Noel squirms in Julian’s arms, focussing on the warming feel of Julian’s body pressed up against him, hands working the dough in synch.
They worked together intently, on the rhythms of kneading the dough, the exertion of rolling it out, the precision involved in cutting the pasta into strips.
“You cheeky bugger,” Noel turns, grinning at him. “I know what you’re up to Barratt.”
“Don’t know what you’re on about.”
“Always been this way, you have,” Noel rests his elbows on the counter as Julian wraps his hands around his hips. “You always make these little teaching sessions into something sexual.”
“Balderdash,” Julian’s fingers start kneading Noel’s waist, the same technique he was demonstrating just moments before.
“Remember when you tried to teach me to drive? That lesson ended with you givin’ me a full-body massage.”
“You complained about your back hurting, I was only relieving the tension,” his hands creep to Noel’s waist.
“Still got the touch Ju,” he moans as Julian’s fingers press harder. Noel knocks over the flour, white powder floating to their hair and clothes. “Whoops. Guess we should go clean ourselves up.”
“Shower?”
Noel grasps Julian’s hand and leads him into the bathroom.
Word Count: 200
Genre: RPS
Characters/Pairing: Noel/Julian
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Don't own them and sadly never will. No profit - all for fun.
Author's Comments: Second submission for boosh_shorts Challenge 12: Writer's Choice Two in one night? Wahey! This is completely blamed on alcohol... and Brie's advancements...
“Concentrate Noel.”
Noel squirms in Julian’s arms, focussing on the warming feel of Julian’s body pressed up against him, hands working the dough in synch.
They worked together intently, on the rhythms of kneading the dough, the exertion of rolling it out, the precision involved in cutting the pasta into strips.
“You cheeky bugger,” Noel turns, grinning at him. “I know what you’re up to Barratt.”
“Don’t know what you’re on about.”
“Always been this way, you have,” Noel rests his elbows on the counter as Julian wraps his hands around his hips. “You always make these little teaching sessions into something sexual.”
“Balderdash,” Julian’s fingers start kneading Noel’s waist, the same technique he was demonstrating just moments before.
“Remember when you tried to teach me to drive? That lesson ended with you givin’ me a full-body massage.”
“You complained about your back hurting, I was only relieving the tension,” his hands creep to Noel’s waist.
“Still got the touch Ju,” he moans as Julian’s fingers press harder. Noel knocks over the flour, white powder floating to their hair and clothes. “Whoops. Guess we should go clean ourselves up.”
“Shower?”
Noel grasps Julian’s hand and leads him into the bathroom.