Re: James and the Giant PeachxenjnJune 7 2011, 06:20:29 UTC
It had been years since he had seen him last.
James shifted and tried to even out his breathing, it was hard to do underneath the sheets, hard to breathe, hard to think, and even harder to forget. Not that he could, he gave up trying to forget him a long time ago.
Mr. Centipede. Somewhere in the back of his mind James knew this was stupid, and wrong in so many ways, but he remembered the Cheshire grin on the centipede's lips and the slow, languid movements of his body and found his hand gripping his member all the same.
It was like this almost every night, body hidden under a thick comforter while hands splayed along his body, fingers spread out as they moved along skin, trying to imagine they were a multitude of warm hands pressing against him, wrapping around him.
It had been years since he'd seen him last, all the others were slowly fading from his mind, slowly their voices were no longer recallable, slowly their faces and their words, their actions began to blur. But not Mr. Centipede, never him. Never the smooth words or
( ... )
Re: James and the Giant PeachguiltywordsJune 8 2011, 00:47:21 UTC
You. I love you. There's no way not to, because you are beyond amazing for writing this! Now I can go on my two week, no-internet trip happily, because I will have this little slice of awesome to remember! *epic hugging* Thank you so much! *dances happily*
older!James/Mr. Centipede. Length and rating are up to filler.
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James shifted and tried to even out his breathing, it was hard to do underneath the sheets, hard to breathe, hard to think, and even harder to forget. Not that he could, he gave up trying to forget him a long time ago.
Mr. Centipede. Somewhere in the back of his mind James knew this was stupid, and wrong in so many ways, but he remembered the Cheshire grin on the centipede's lips and the slow, languid movements of his body and found his hand gripping his member all the same.
It was like this almost every night, body hidden under a thick comforter while hands splayed along his body, fingers spread out as they moved along skin, trying to imagine they were a multitude of warm hands pressing against him, wrapping around him.
It had been years since he'd seen him last, all the others were slowly fading from his mind, slowly their voices were no longer recallable, slowly their faces and their words, their actions began to blur. But not Mr. Centipede, never him. Never the smooth words or ( ... )
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Thank you so much! *dances happily*
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