bloodyrockgod | milliways

"I can't tell what color the tile is supposed to be."

"Blue," he guesses randomly, "hey...what does it matter, huh? Aren't you supposed to care about the scenery in here?"

You can hear the somewhat whiney pout on his face.

"My love, I know you love your 'do but this is jsut silly." There's a sound of fumbling and moving aside, then, "Ahah! Eureka! There is a sink in here!"

"It is not silly!" he objects, "And it's not that hard to find the damn sink."

Charlie sticks out his head to grin at him and then ducks back into the bathroom. Running water, some whistling, and then Charlie bounds back onto the bed and shakes his damp hair over Darien's face.

"Just a quick how's your father," he announces gleefully.

That get's another blink.

"How's your--"

And he puts his hands into Charlie's hair and swooshes it around a bit.

"No mentioning parental units in bed."

Charlie kisses him, balancing on his hands, and licks the tip of his nose. "Right-o. No mentioning of parental units in bed.

"Now, do I dare touch the hair or would it ruin whatever work of art you need fifteen bottles of product to create?"

He pouts at Charlie.

"Any reason you're picking on my best feature this morning, baby?"

Charlie gets a mischevious smile and murmurs, "Your best feature? Mm . . ."

He nods, as if this were obvious.

"I dunno about that . . . hm . . ." He closes one eye and then the other, studying Darien from a few different angles. "One could conceivably argue that your eyes are quite lovely."

He rolls those very eyes.

"Wot? You don't believe me? Hm . . . then there's your neck. Your neck is very nice. Long. Sensitive." He leans in and inhales the scent of Darien's skin. "And smells like . . . mm . . . cinnamon rolls."

He chuckles low in his throat even as he shivers at the touch. His hands reache around to play lightly on Charlie's side, Charlie's hip.

"I make you think of pastries?"

"I love cinnamon rolls." He licks Darien's neck. "Then there's your shoulders . . . and your arms . . ." His mouth follows the line of Darien's shoulder, the curve of his bicep.

"'Head, shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes, baby...'" and his head tilts back as he arches to Charlie's touch.

"I am extraordinarly fond of your knees," Charlie says and squirrels under the covers to start kissing Darien's legs.

He laughs out loud and squirms, pushing the covers back and run his hands in Charlie's hair.

Charlie laughs and slithers out of his reach, down to his toes. He gives Darien a look and takes his big toe into his mouth.

Oh he squirms and his head throws back with another laugh.

"Your toes," Charlie says and licks the bottom of Darien's foot, "are excellent toes. Quite delectable.

"However," he moves up Darien's body again, "there is the matter of your thighs."

The lick makes his leg jerk and he almost bites his tongue on the laugh it produces before Charlie's focus shifts and his breathing goes slow and very carefully...even. His eyes are a little darker now and he watches Charlie with interest.

He wraps both hands around Darien's thighs. "I want to sink my teeth into them, I must confess," Charlie says, and dips his head to lick and nibble the long, lean muscles.

His eyes roll back and the lids flutter as the muscles tense and twitch and relax. Other muscles do as well, and not too far away, and he lets out a hiss.

Charlie glances up at him and his mouth quirks. There's the obvious next step . . . but teasing Darien is always so gratifying. Driving him crazy, taking him higher before he's satisfied . . . it's a good feeling.

So he skips the obvious and tickles Darien's navel with the tip of his tongue instead.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject