Pundit Kink Meme
The Pundits Kink Meme, 2.0
For The Daily Show, The Colbert Report, MSNBC, CNN, even FOX is fair game. :)
The Rules:
1. Choose a pairing.
2. Choose a kink. If none come to mind, see this list for inspiration.
3. Your comments should be anonymous! Before you read any further, click anonymous or log off.
4. Didn't I tell you to log off?
5. For every request ( Read more... )
Keith's the only person on the mini-bus when Anderson boards. He edges down the tight aisle, and Keith watches him.
"Great article last week on-" Keith's brow furrows in mock confusion, "the changes in parking rules?" He gives Anderson a thumbs up, and Anderson doesn't blink.
"What should I have written about, Keith?" he asks, tiredly, dropping into the seats across the aisle.
"I don't know, Anderson," Keith says, "Maybe the way evolution's being taught as a theory? Or the retroactive-rewriting of Vietnam we're getting in History?"
"That's more your thing," Anderson mumbles, glancing out his window, and Keith snorts. "If you weren't so busy with your underground newsletter," and Keith bristles, like always, at the term, "I'd say you should go for a position on the paper."
Keith raises an eyebrow. "Don't you have the final say on applications?" he asks, dryly, and Anderson feigns surprise.
"That's right," he grimaces, "Forget I said ( ... )
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"You've never played?" he doesn't really ask, and Anderson shakes his head, "Your dad never took you to a game?" he tries, and Anderson brushes imaginary lint off his pants until his throat stops aching.
"My dad's dead."
Keith's hands still. "Oh."
Anderson picks up his bag, and tugs a cap low over his eyes.
*
They're playing the Red cabin, and Anderson's feeling too old, too un-athletic for this stupid camp. Keith's organizing their line-up, "Anderson, you'll bat second-"
"Second?" he feels almost betrayed, which is stupid, and Keith shrugs slightly ( ... )
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Keith touches his cheek, then leans in and kisses him, and it's confident and sure, and Anderson opens his mouth to him. Keith touches his tongue to Anderson's lightly, and Anderson pushes against him, instinctively, and Keith's hand falls to his hip.
He urges Anderson onto his back, his hand trailing along the waistband of his cotton shorts. His hand edges lower, and Anderson arches slightly, pleadingly, and Keith cups his growing erection.
The conversation around them turns to baseball as Keith's hand slips into his shorts. He bites down on his lip, hard, as Keith says, loudly, "You're a Mets fan. Your opinion doesn't count." His grip on Anderson's dick tightens, his thumb playing with a slit he finds by touch alone ( ... )
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