In your head, he’s not intimidating at all, and way more responsive than he ever was in real life, petting your neck, fingering your ears, pushing his thumbs into your mouth. He arches up and gasps your name, clinging to your head, and he doesn’t choke you and you can breathe without trouble through your nose and you never lose the rhythm between your hand and your mouth. You can take him in your throat like you were born for this. His belt doesn’t knock you in the chin repeatedly and you don’t scrape your cheek on his zipper bad enough to bleed. It’s not messy or awkward and your knees don’t hurt from kneeling on the pool deck and you’re not insane with fear over getting caught. There is no drool or funny sounds. He’s not mumbling half-incoherently, “fuck, girl, just like that,” and you’re not so fucking heartbroken by the whole thing that it burns in you like a grassfire drunk on gasoline.This passage is wonderful. And heartbreak burning like a grassfire drunk on gasoline owns me
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as usual, your feedback exceeds my ability to respond. for that, you are kickass.
two of the passages you quoted contain subtle ripoffs of music lyrics. i am ashamed, and yet proud of you for having good taste.
you know, because young huston showed up, zito/harden was absolutely the standby. they fit in a strange hippie/canadian sort of way. of course, all of that flew by the wayside with the advent of the pretty.
sdlkfjs I might be more than a little bit crazy about this one. It's called "Two Thousand Miles," right, and that's the setting, the drive and the destination (or at least the one before the real destination), but most of the story takes place in Zito's head. Makes it even more beautiful when Harden inserts himself, breaks Zito's melancholy and his longing. :D
(And the remix, too, I have to go reread it again, but again, Harden and how he's so good at waiting for Zito to realize what's up.)
zito's head is always best left explored by the second person, i feel like. and you know, i totally set out to write a road trip story where they actually ARRIVE at their destination by the end of it, but you're absolutely right, it is the journey.
heh, you say 'remix' and it took me like five minutes to realize you meant the prequel. ever-patient super-crafty rich harden is basically my favorite kind.
well, um, yes. yes lots! the only way for that picture to be improved would be if he weren't wearing long sleeves, to better display the forearms of sex. then he would be both cold and hot. he can do magic things like this, for he is richie.
I bought the whole damn Lou Piniella book that image was published in, but it's really no clearer in the pages :(
I am fascinated by the fact that he actually wore long sleeves because I've seen the dude pitch in 30 degree weather without. So, to warrant the sleeves and the hat, it must've been, like, thirty degrees below that day.
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In your head, he’s not intimidating at all, and way more responsive than he ever was in real life, petting your neck, fingering your ears, pushing his thumbs into your mouth. He arches up and gasps your name, clinging to your head, and he doesn’t choke you and you can breathe without trouble through your nose and you never lose the rhythm between your hand and your mouth. You can take him in your throat like you were born for this. His belt doesn’t knock you in the chin repeatedly and you don’t scrape your cheek on his zipper bad enough to bleed. It’s not messy or awkward and your knees don’t hurt from kneeling on the pool deck and you’re not insane with fear over getting caught. There is no drool or funny sounds. He’s not mumbling half-incoherently, “fuck, girl, just like that,” and you’re not so fucking heartbroken by the whole thing that it burns in you like a grassfire drunk on gasoline.This passage is wonderful. And heartbreak burning like a grassfire drunk on gasoline owns me ( ... )
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two of the passages you quoted contain subtle ripoffs of music lyrics. i am ashamed, and yet proud of you for having good taste.
you know, because young huston showed up, zito/harden was absolutely the standby. they fit in a strange hippie/canadian sort of way. of course, all of that flew by the wayside with the advent of the pretty.
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(And the remix, too, I have to go reread it again, but again, Harden and how he's so good at waiting for Zito to realize what's up.)
Reply
heh, you say 'remix' and it took me like five minutes to realize you meant the prequel. ever-patient super-crafty rich harden is basically my favorite kind.
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I am fascinated by the fact that he actually wore long sleeves because I've seen the dude pitch in 30 degree weather without. So, to warrant the sleeves and the hat, it must've been, like, thirty degrees below that day.
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