Charlie Pace (
bloodyrockgod) wrote2006-02-08 01:35 pm
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milliways_bar OOM: Vegas, baby.
Las Vegas.
At certain times of day the Strip appears nearly deserted; at others, cars move a crawl and the sidewalks are packed with people looking for an endless variety of a good time.
It's never cold in Las Vegas--it's just varying degrees of hot. The grand hotels cast shadows and there are fountains up and down the Strip, though few are intended to cool off the tourists as much as amuse them. There are few places to just sit and watch the city go past: the intention is to bring you inside, to gamble and shop and take in a show or two.
It's a strange city, of long nights and slow days, and there's a nervy sort of energy brought by vast amounts of money changing hands, of celebrities getting away for a wild night, of lives changing with a roll of the dice.
It's a perfect city, though, for a pair of dreamers to celebrate each other. Whether they take the High Octane option of Charlie's plans or the Lazy Day option, it's good just to be here, together.
At certain times of day the Strip appears nearly deserted; at others, cars move a crawl and the sidewalks are packed with people looking for an endless variety of a good time.
It's never cold in Las Vegas--it's just varying degrees of hot. The grand hotels cast shadows and there are fountains up and down the Strip, though few are intended to cool off the tourists as much as amuse them. There are few places to just sit and watch the city go past: the intention is to bring you inside, to gamble and shop and take in a show or two.
It's a strange city, of long nights and slow days, and there's a nervy sort of energy brought by vast amounts of money changing hands, of celebrities getting away for a wild night, of lives changing with a roll of the dice.
It's a perfect city, though, for a pair of dreamers to celebrate each other. Whether they take the High Octane option of Charlie's plans or the Lazy Day option, it's good just to be here, together.
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Pounce.
Kisses.
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Mmm. Kisses.
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"Wouldn't want em any other way, though, now would you?"
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...Darien, honey, Charlie's the blond, remember?
"What question? There was a question?"
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"But I've got such a lovely distraction..."
Grin.
"I dunno, Charlie. What're you up for?"
No innuendo, oddly enough.
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"Do you fry, Charlie Pace, or do you brown up nice?"
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"Never burn, baby."
A kiss.
"And not a tan line in sight."
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"Well, no. There're children and jets and high-speed impact into water crotch first..."
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"So. Are we getting out of here or what?"
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"Hmmmmm...think we're getting out of here, babe. Just, uh, gotta get us some trunks."
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Grin.
"Shame I missed it. Must have been at the slot machines when that happened."
He catches the jeans and starts tugging them up.
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Really, it's all he can do not to start jumping on the bed.
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Accompanied by his shirt being tucked down...and an impromptu roundhouse that lands a foot or so from Charlie.
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He's never been to a water park. Not really on the training-to-be-a-thief class trip list.
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Charlie, in his new swimsuit, lays down his towel on a chair and takes out the bottle of sunblock. He makes puppy eyes at Darien. "Do my back?"
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"No puppy eyes necessary, baby. Besides, considering the melt job you did on me one day, I think I owe you the back massage."
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That being said, he certainly takes his time with the lotion, slipping it along with soft strokes of fingers and long smooth slides of palm and even a kiss to the back of the neck to finish.
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