Yesterday was national kissing day, and I was talking about how it would have been a good excuse for a kiss meme, and how it seemed those kind of themed memes seemed to have died out a little
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Dem Dry Bones - Gerard/Mikey (2/3)desfinadoJuly 11 2011, 06:27:55 UTC
"Mmm?" Gerard hums. When Mikey doesn't continue, he pushes his head out from under the blanket, hair dark and messy across his flushed forehead. "What's after that?" He raises his eyebrows, eyes huge and dark as he continues to slide his hands up Mikey's back to curve around his shoulder blades while he drops a kiss to Mikey's collarbone.
"Asshole," Mikey groans, and gropes for the textbook, holding it up over both of their heads so Gerard can keep kissing around his throat while he reads. "The clavicle and scapula make up the pectoral girdle," Mikey says unsteadily as Gerard kisses the delicate bones at the base of Mikey's throat, the ones that Mikey sometimes ask him to press down on - harder, because he likes how it makes him feel breakable. "It connects to the cranium and to the humerus, or upper arm - oh."
Gerard lifts himself up so he's braced on his hands on the mattress, and Mikey holds his breath, arms trembling with holding the textbook up. He tries not to push his hips up as Gerard kisses Mikey's left bicep, then his right. Mikey studies his face, the red of his cheeks, the sweat making his hair stick to his cheekbones, the dark of his eyelashes on his face.
"The, uh," Mikey has to lift the book and squint to see around Gerard's head, "the lower arm is made up of the radius and ulna. The ulna contributes primarily to the elbow joint," a kiss at Mikey's elbow, "while the radius connects to the wrist joint." Mikey watches, breathing heavily, as Gerard pushes up onto his fingertips so he can press warm lips to Mikey's wrists, the narrow bones there that Gerard's broad hands fit so perfectly over. It shifts his body weight to his hips and Mikey groans at the pressure, looking pleadingly at his brother. Gerard smiles back at him, smile wrinkling the corners of his eyes, but he doesn't say anything.
Mikey decides that he is reading way too slowly.
"The hand is made up of carpals, metacarpals, and phalanges," he says. "The main role of the carpus is to facilitate effective positioning of the hand and powerful use of the extensors and flexors of the forearm," he says all in a rush, and drops back against the pillow as his arms give out and he dumps the book over the side. "The end."
"The end?" Gerard repeats, laughing softly while he kisses at the knuckles of the hand that Mikey has draped over his own forehead. "If you fail that test, mom's gonna give me shit for not helping you study."
"Fuck off," Mikey groans. He bucks his hips up impatiently, the head of his dick rucking up Gerard's t-shirt and skidding against the sparse hair of his belly.
"I promised to help," Gerard breathes against Mikey's wrist. He smells like sweat and deodorant, crowding Mikey against the pillows that line the headboard. "Maybe I should quiz you just to check."
"Whatever," Mikey says, frustrated, and lets his knees fall open, digging his heels into the backs of Gerard's legs to try and drag him closer. "Just do something."
"If you can name a bone," Gerard murmurs, and leans his weight just a little more heavily on Mikey's body. Mikey gasps and writhes against him. Why is Gerard wearing so many clothes? "If you can name a bone, I'll use it to touch you," Gerard finally says.
Mikey snorts a laugh, because there's a joke about boners here somewhere but he can't figure it out. "Your, uh, pelvis?" he tries.
"Nuh-uh," Gerard says, leaning over and pretending to scrutinize the textbook on the floor, which Mikey knows for a fact fell open to a page about the circulatory system.
"Fuck you, you know what I mean, Gee. Your pelvic fucking girdle, okay?"
Gerard pulls back to grin down at Mikey, big and bright and proud, while he grinds his hips down.
"Oh god, oh god," Mikey moans, and Gerard slaps a hand over his mouth, still smiling, to keep him quiet. "Oh god," Mikey moans even louder into Gerard's palm, even though it comes out as an unintelligible noise. He can feel Gerard's cock in the crease of his hip and thigh, hard and hot through his pajama pants, and his eyes are rolling back in his head.
"Asshole," Mikey groans, and gropes for the textbook, holding it up over both of their heads so Gerard can keep kissing around his throat while he reads. "The clavicle and scapula make up the pectoral girdle," Mikey says unsteadily as Gerard kisses the delicate bones at the base of Mikey's throat, the ones that Mikey sometimes ask him to press down on - harder, because he likes how it makes him feel breakable. "It connects to the cranium and to the humerus, or upper arm - oh."
Gerard lifts himself up so he's braced on his hands on the mattress, and Mikey holds his breath, arms trembling with holding the textbook up. He tries not to push his hips up as Gerard kisses Mikey's left bicep, then his right. Mikey studies his face, the red of his cheeks, the sweat making his hair stick to his cheekbones, the dark of his eyelashes on his face.
"The, uh," Mikey has to lift the book and squint to see around Gerard's head, "the lower arm is made up of the radius and ulna. The ulna contributes primarily to the elbow joint," a kiss at Mikey's elbow, "while the radius connects to the wrist joint." Mikey watches, breathing heavily, as Gerard pushes up onto his fingertips so he can press warm lips to Mikey's wrists, the narrow bones there that Gerard's broad hands fit so perfectly over. It shifts his body weight to his hips and Mikey groans at the pressure, looking pleadingly at his brother. Gerard smiles back at him, smile wrinkling the corners of his eyes, but he doesn't say anything.
Mikey decides that he is reading way too slowly.
"The hand is made up of carpals, metacarpals, and phalanges," he says. "The main role of the carpus is to facilitate effective positioning of the hand and powerful use of the extensors and flexors of the forearm," he says all in a rush, and drops back against the pillow as his arms give out and he dumps the book over the side. "The end."
"The end?" Gerard repeats, laughing softly while he kisses at the knuckles of the hand that Mikey has draped over his own forehead. "If you fail that test, mom's gonna give me shit for not helping you study."
"Fuck off," Mikey groans. He bucks his hips up impatiently, the head of his dick rucking up Gerard's t-shirt and skidding against the sparse hair of his belly.
"I promised to help," Gerard breathes against Mikey's wrist. He smells like sweat and deodorant, crowding Mikey against the pillows that line the headboard. "Maybe I should quiz you just to check."
"Whatever," Mikey says, frustrated, and lets his knees fall open, digging his heels into the backs of Gerard's legs to try and drag him closer. "Just do something."
"If you can name a bone," Gerard murmurs, and leans his weight just a little more heavily on Mikey's body. Mikey gasps and writhes against him. Why is Gerard wearing so many clothes? "If you can name a bone, I'll use it to touch you," Gerard finally says.
Mikey snorts a laugh, because there's a joke about boners here somewhere but he can't figure it out. "Your, uh, pelvis?" he tries.
"Nuh-uh," Gerard says, leaning over and pretending to scrutinize the textbook on the floor, which Mikey knows for a fact fell open to a page about the circulatory system.
"Fuck you, you know what I mean, Gee. Your pelvic fucking girdle, okay?"
Gerard pulls back to grin down at Mikey, big and bright and proud, while he grinds his hips down.
"Oh god, oh god," Mikey moans, and Gerard slaps a hand over his mouth, still smiling, to keep him quiet. "Oh god," Mikey moans even louder into Gerard's palm, even though it comes out as an unintelligible noise. He can feel Gerard's cock in the crease of his hip and thigh, hard and hot through his pajama pants, and his eyes are rolling back in his head.
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