Guess who drabbled?
Title: Rebel, rebel
Author: lostakasha
Pairing: Christian Kane/David Boreanaz
Warnings: Really?
Disclaimer: Relieved to say they do not belong to me.
Note: The quote read actually appeared on E!Online, except for the "defender" part. :)
Rebel, rebel
He swept his index finger over the iPhone screen, pausing to study the ragged edge of cuticle at the base of his fingernail. He’d be goddamned if he allowed himself a “manny-cure;” it was a small rebellion, but one of the only ones he had left.
Squinting to read, he thought, Never minded the taste of my own blood. Tonight’s no different.
It was almost too easy, but in a world of his own construction, where his options were narrowing with every five-figure paycheck, every promotional tour, every Con Con, every death march with cocktails, there truly were only a few ways to rebel.
He cleared his throat and began to read aloud, projecting enough to be heard over the sound of running water in the next room.
“Scallion, defender of playboy bunnies everywhere, says Jaime will be by his side as he fights against his mystery mistress,” he intoned. His Jon Stewart impression wasn't half bad. “Mystery mistress? Dude, did you help them write this shit?”
Predictably, the water stopped. Wet terrycloth slapped on porcelain, followed by the clip of a whiskey glass on the marble counter.
Never minded the taste of his blood, either,” Kane thought, and waited.
Author: lostakasha
Pairing: Christian Kane/David Boreanaz
Warnings: Really?
Disclaimer: Relieved to say they do not belong to me.
Note: The quote read actually appeared on E!Online, except for the "defender" part. :)
Rebel, rebel
He swept his index finger over the iPhone screen, pausing to study the ragged edge of cuticle at the base of his fingernail. He’d be goddamned if he allowed himself a “manny-cure;” it was a small rebellion, but one of the only ones he had left.
Squinting to read, he thought, Never minded the taste of my own blood. Tonight’s no different.
It was almost too easy, but in a world of his own construction, where his options were narrowing with every five-figure paycheck, every promotional tour, every Con Con, every death march with cocktails, there truly were only a few ways to rebel.
He cleared his throat and began to read aloud, projecting enough to be heard over the sound of running water in the next room.
“Scallion, defender of playboy bunnies everywhere, says Jaime will be by his side as he fights against his mystery mistress,” he intoned. His Jon Stewart impression wasn't half bad. “Mystery mistress? Dude, did you help them write this shit?”
Predictably, the water stopped. Wet terrycloth slapped on porcelain, followed by the clip of a whiskey glass on the marble counter.
Never minded the taste of his blood, either,” Kane thought, and waited.