Fluff: Brian/Wensleydale
"That has to be the most impractical, least nourishing foodstuff ever invented."
"Yep," said Brian stickily, and grinned around another mouthful.
"It can't seriously taste good. I mean, it's sugar. That's it."
Wensleydale pushed his glasses up his nose with the knuckle of his forefinger, frowning at the jar in Brian's hand.
"Which is why," Brian answered happily, "it tastes so good." He held out the jar and jiggled it temptingly. "Go on, Wens. You know you want to. Your inner child is begging, man."
"You're inner-child enough for the both of us, thank you."
Brian shrugged and scooped out another fingerful, licking it off in quite a lascivious manner. Wensley cleared his throat and readjusted his glasses.
"You're going to be quite unbearable for the rest of the day, now. You know how you get when you've been at the sweets."
And even after knowing Brian so long, the pounce was still almost entirely unexpected. Wensley wriggled and squeaked a token protest, and Brian pinning his wrists to the floor was almost entirely the reason for the protest in the first place.
"You know how I get," he said, breathing warm sweet air in Wensley's ear, "when I've been at the sweets."
"I have a class," he argued faintly, and Brian just pulled back far enough that he could see his grin.
"You can't go until you've tried this." Brian leaned a little closer. "Heaven," he informed Wensley solemnly, "tastes like Fluff."
And then he leaned a little closer still, and dash it all if the little git wasn't right.
"Yep," said Brian stickily, and grinned around another mouthful.
"It can't seriously taste good. I mean, it's sugar. That's it."
Wensleydale pushed his glasses up his nose with the knuckle of his forefinger, frowning at the jar in Brian's hand.
"Which is why," Brian answered happily, "it tastes so good." He held out the jar and jiggled it temptingly. "Go on, Wens. You know you want to. Your inner child is begging, man."
"You're inner-child enough for the both of us, thank you."
Brian shrugged and scooped out another fingerful, licking it off in quite a lascivious manner. Wensley cleared his throat and readjusted his glasses.
"You're going to be quite unbearable for the rest of the day, now. You know how you get when you've been at the sweets."
And even after knowing Brian so long, the pounce was still almost entirely unexpected. Wensley wriggled and squeaked a token protest, and Brian pinning his wrists to the floor was almost entirely the reason for the protest in the first place.
"You know how I get," he said, breathing warm sweet air in Wensley's ear, "when I've been at the sweets."
"I have a class," he argued faintly, and Brian just pulled back far enough that he could see his grin.
"You can't go until you've tried this." Brian leaned a little closer. "Heaven," he informed Wensley solemnly, "tastes like Fluff."
And then he leaned a little closer still, and dash it all if the little git wasn't right.