"Mitchell 500"
Here, have a Master Plan-verse oneshot. (...I finished one? Wow.)
Title: Mitchell 500
Series: Master Plan
Rating: ...PG-13
Word Count: ~1000? ...I forgot to check.
Summary: Bad driving. Sex talk. Warehouses. Yup.
To Read:
Rambling Note:
1. Uh, this was supposed to be Christmas themed. It went in a completely different direction (I blame Scott).
2. At least half of this is crap writing because I wrote while trying to hop back on the writing wagon after I somehow managed to get bumped off. I've felt a little off my game but I think I'm gaining it back.
Most importantly... 3. I chickened out. This totally leads up to some smexy times but I just couldn't write it! Aruuuugh! It will happen someday. I will toss my fear of writing horrible sex out the window and just write it. But not horribly. Cause that would defeat the purpose.
Master Plan belongs to me! Blah blah blah I like disclaimers :)
Kyle’s vision fogged as his hot breath hit the glass. He gazed out the picture window in Auntie May’s living room, cheeks squashed against the panel, watching the white flurries spiral and meld into the dark gray of the Atlantic.
He loved the snow. He loved to walk and play and dive right into it. Unlike his boyfriend, the cold didn’t bother him that much.
Kyle’s face lit up as a silver car pulled into the driveway. He peeled himself from the window and shouted a goodbye to his aunt before dashing out the door.
“Hey there, cutie.” Scott rolled down the window and stared at the blonde over the top of his sunglasses. “Need a ride?”
“I don’t know, mister.” Kyle replied playfully, putting on an innocent face. “Auntie tells me not to get in the car with strangers. She says the sexier they are, the more likely they are to be perverts. And you…”
“Oh, I won’t hurt you.” Scott smirked. “Not much anyway. Tell me, do you like lollipops?”
The younger boy couldn’t keep up his role and burst into laughter. Scott laughed too, though he couldn’t help but wonder what Kyle’s response to his question would’ve been.
“Seriously, though, get in. You’re letting in the all the snow.”
Kyle obliged, sliding into the car. “It’s weird to see you drive a car. You’re always on your motorcycle.”
“Yeah, well, I’d be insane to drive my bike during the winter.” Scott said as he backed out onto the road. “One, I’d kill myself on the ice. Two, like hell I’d try to bare the weather. I’d probably look like an Eskimo riding around all bundled up. And you know, I’d bet you I’d still be cold. Thank God Mick let’s me borrow his car.”
They rounded a corner, taking a rather sharp turn. Kyle gripped the edges of his seat.
“You definitely drive your bike better.” The blonde squeezed his eyes shut. “And that’s saying something.”
“I drive just fine.” Scott asserted, “I’m staying on my side of the yellow line, aren’t I?”
“Trash can!” Kyle shouted, cowering into the back of the seat.
“I see it.” He narrowly skimmed by the row of trash and recycling bins before pulling closer to the center of the street. “Relax.”
“Maybe I should’ve walked…” Kyle chanced opening his eyes, peering through the windshield.
Scott sighed, “Oh, stop. So I swerve a little, big de-”
“Mailbox!”
“Jesus Christ!” Scott yanked the wheel to the left, partly in order to dodge said mailbox and partly because Kyle’s outburst had startled him. “Okay, seriously, people shouldn’t plant their boxes that close to the road.” His eyes slipped over to the blonde who was staring him down, deadpan expression on his face.
“What?” The brunette cried. “That wasn’t me. If that mailbox had been two feet further from the curb I would’ve passed it no problem. You’re just paranoid.”
“Rightly so.” Kyle folded his arms and shifted in his seat. But his frown didn’t last long. It cracked into a smile. “I’m sorry. I’m just joking.”
“I know. You just like to harass me.” Scott teased. “But that’s okay; I like to harass you too. I mean our methods of harassment are different…”
The younger boy rolled his eyes. His sight followed a little grey terrier dragging its owner down the sidewalk. Kyle’s locks swiveled with his head as he turned to Scott. He unexpectedly met his own green irises in the reflection of Scott’s shades.
“The road.”
“Hm?”
“Watch the road.” Kyle pointed out rather calmly.
“I am.”
“No, you’re staring at me.”
“We’re at a red light. Doesn’t matter.”
“I don’t know why you’re staring at me. I’m not doing anything.”
“You could be doing something.” The edges of Scott’s lips pulled upward. A thousand scenarios flooded to mind of just what the blonde could occupy himself with. And those same thousand ideas flitted across Kyle’s mind too, though he’d be much more hesitant to admit it.
After a moment of quiet filled with just the humming of the engine, Kyle said, “I don’t think any amount of Febreze would cover that smell.”
Scott blinked before letting out a bark of highly amused laughter. “What?” That had to be the complete opposite of what he’d expected to come out of the boy’s mouth.
“Well it is Mick’s car. If you return it to him smelling like sex he’s gonna know we did something. It’s not exactly the easiest scent to cover up.” It wasn’t when it came to Scott’s apartment, anyway. Or perhaps it was the fact Scott didn’t care to fragrance spray the shit out of his home. Kyle figured he probably reveled in it. But he digressed. “Needless to say he wouldn’t let you-”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute.” That Cheshire Cat grin spread across Scott’s lips. “Are you saying if this car didn’t belong to someone else you’d agree to car sex?”
Kyle’s cheeks flared as he refused to offer an answer.
“Green light.”
“Huh?”
The blonde simply jutted his chin towards the traffic light in front of them. They started rolling forward again, splashing through puddles of slush.
“You do realize ‘sex’ is a very broad term, don’t you?”
A sense of relief snaked between the knots forming in Kyle’s stomach upon realizing the sunglasses acted as a barrier between him and Scott’s mirth-filled eyes. But that barrier wouldn’t stay up for long because the pale blue of the sky had already begun to settle into its cotton candy swirl of deep purple, pink and orange. Kyle couldn’t really help the small smirk tugging at his mouth as he replied, “I know.”
A low hum vibrated in the back of Scott’s throat. His tongue darted out to lick his lips as he spun the steering wheel and took an unexpected turn.
Kyle slipped in his seat, knocking his head against the older boy's shoulder as they jerked in a new direction.
"Hey, what are you doing? The mall's the other way." Kyle glanced back through the rear window to see the intersection grow smaller and the traffic lights shrink to something comparable to Christmas lights.
He didn't receive an answer though. But after watching the rows of houses along the street morph into deserted warehouse buildings, Kyle didn't need an answer. He squirmed a little in his spot - more so in his pants - when they slowed to a stop in an empty lot. The hole-punched navy blanket covering the sky let its glittering lights shine through the sunroof. Not that either of them noticed.
The click of the gear locking into park made Kyle's insides jump and spark in excitement. His eyes swung to Scott who merely stared at him for a minute although it seemed like ten. The brunette leaned forward and Kyle met him over the cup holders, drawn to him like a magnet (polar opposites for sure). Green eyes roamed Scott's face as Kyle listened to one last cry from his rationality.
"Mick's car." He reminded weakly in a mumbled whisper.
Scott slid his glasses off the bridge of his nose, hungry brown orbs boring right into the blonde's pupils. His wrist flicked, sending his sunglasses flying to the backseat.
"Fuck it."
Title: Mitchell 500
Series: Master Plan
Rating: ...PG-13
Word Count: ~1000? ...I forgot to check.
Summary: Bad driving. Sex talk. Warehouses. Yup.
To Read:
Rambling Note:
1. Uh, this was supposed to be Christmas themed. It went in a completely different direction (I blame Scott).
2. At least half of this is crap writing because I wrote while trying to hop back on the writing wagon after I somehow managed to get bumped off. I've felt a little off my game but I think I'm gaining it back.
Most importantly... 3. I chickened out. This totally leads up to some smexy times but I just couldn't write it! Aruuuugh! It will happen someday. I will toss my fear of writing horrible sex out the window and just write it. But not horribly. Cause that would defeat the purpose.
Master Plan belongs to me! Blah blah blah I like disclaimers :)
Kyle’s vision fogged as his hot breath hit the glass. He gazed out the picture window in Auntie May’s living room, cheeks squashed against the panel, watching the white flurries spiral and meld into the dark gray of the Atlantic.
He loved the snow. He loved to walk and play and dive right into it. Unlike his boyfriend, the cold didn’t bother him that much.
Kyle’s face lit up as a silver car pulled into the driveway. He peeled himself from the window and shouted a goodbye to his aunt before dashing out the door.
“Hey there, cutie.” Scott rolled down the window and stared at the blonde over the top of his sunglasses. “Need a ride?”
“I don’t know, mister.” Kyle replied playfully, putting on an innocent face. “Auntie tells me not to get in the car with strangers. She says the sexier they are, the more likely they are to be perverts. And you…”
“Oh, I won’t hurt you.” Scott smirked. “Not much anyway. Tell me, do you like lollipops?”
The younger boy couldn’t keep up his role and burst into laughter. Scott laughed too, though he couldn’t help but wonder what Kyle’s response to his question would’ve been.
“Seriously, though, get in. You’re letting in the all the snow.”
Kyle obliged, sliding into the car. “It’s weird to see you drive a car. You’re always on your motorcycle.”
“Yeah, well, I’d be insane to drive my bike during the winter.” Scott said as he backed out onto the road. “One, I’d kill myself on the ice. Two, like hell I’d try to bare the weather. I’d probably look like an Eskimo riding around all bundled up. And you know, I’d bet you I’d still be cold. Thank God Mick let’s me borrow his car.”
They rounded a corner, taking a rather sharp turn. Kyle gripped the edges of his seat.
“You definitely drive your bike better.” The blonde squeezed his eyes shut. “And that’s saying something.”
“I drive just fine.” Scott asserted, “I’m staying on my side of the yellow line, aren’t I?”
“Trash can!” Kyle shouted, cowering into the back of the seat.
“I see it.” He narrowly skimmed by the row of trash and recycling bins before pulling closer to the center of the street. “Relax.”
“Maybe I should’ve walked…” Kyle chanced opening his eyes, peering through the windshield.
Scott sighed, “Oh, stop. So I swerve a little, big de-”
“Mailbox!”
“Jesus Christ!” Scott yanked the wheel to the left, partly in order to dodge said mailbox and partly because Kyle’s outburst had startled him. “Okay, seriously, people shouldn’t plant their boxes that close to the road.” His eyes slipped over to the blonde who was staring him down, deadpan expression on his face.
“What?” The brunette cried. “That wasn’t me. If that mailbox had been two feet further from the curb I would’ve passed it no problem. You’re just paranoid.”
“Rightly so.” Kyle folded his arms and shifted in his seat. But his frown didn’t last long. It cracked into a smile. “I’m sorry. I’m just joking.”
“I know. You just like to harass me.” Scott teased. “But that’s okay; I like to harass you too. I mean our methods of harassment are different…”
The younger boy rolled his eyes. His sight followed a little grey terrier dragging its owner down the sidewalk. Kyle’s locks swiveled with his head as he turned to Scott. He unexpectedly met his own green irises in the reflection of Scott’s shades.
“The road.”
“Hm?”
“Watch the road.” Kyle pointed out rather calmly.
“I am.”
“No, you’re staring at me.”
“We’re at a red light. Doesn’t matter.”
“I don’t know why you’re staring at me. I’m not doing anything.”
“You could be doing something.” The edges of Scott’s lips pulled upward. A thousand scenarios flooded to mind of just what the blonde could occupy himself with. And those same thousand ideas flitted across Kyle’s mind too, though he’d be much more hesitant to admit it.
After a moment of quiet filled with just the humming of the engine, Kyle said, “I don’t think any amount of Febreze would cover that smell.”
Scott blinked before letting out a bark of highly amused laughter. “What?” That had to be the complete opposite of what he’d expected to come out of the boy’s mouth.
“Well it is Mick’s car. If you return it to him smelling like sex he’s gonna know we did something. It’s not exactly the easiest scent to cover up.” It wasn’t when it came to Scott’s apartment, anyway. Or perhaps it was the fact Scott didn’t care to fragrance spray the shit out of his home. Kyle figured he probably reveled in it. But he digressed. “Needless to say he wouldn’t let you-”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute.” That Cheshire Cat grin spread across Scott’s lips. “Are you saying if this car didn’t belong to someone else you’d agree to car sex?”
Kyle’s cheeks flared as he refused to offer an answer.
“Green light.”
“Huh?”
The blonde simply jutted his chin towards the traffic light in front of them. They started rolling forward again, splashing through puddles of slush.
“You do realize ‘sex’ is a very broad term, don’t you?”
A sense of relief snaked between the knots forming in Kyle’s stomach upon realizing the sunglasses acted as a barrier between him and Scott’s mirth-filled eyes. But that barrier wouldn’t stay up for long because the pale blue of the sky had already begun to settle into its cotton candy swirl of deep purple, pink and orange. Kyle couldn’t really help the small smirk tugging at his mouth as he replied, “I know.”
A low hum vibrated in the back of Scott’s throat. His tongue darted out to lick his lips as he spun the steering wheel and took an unexpected turn.
Kyle slipped in his seat, knocking his head against the older boy's shoulder as they jerked in a new direction.
"Hey, what are you doing? The mall's the other way." Kyle glanced back through the rear window to see the intersection grow smaller and the traffic lights shrink to something comparable to Christmas lights.
He didn't receive an answer though. But after watching the rows of houses along the street morph into deserted warehouse buildings, Kyle didn't need an answer. He squirmed a little in his spot - more so in his pants - when they slowed to a stop in an empty lot. The hole-punched navy blanket covering the sky let its glittering lights shine through the sunroof. Not that either of them noticed.
The click of the gear locking into park made Kyle's insides jump and spark in excitement. His eyes swung to Scott who merely stared at him for a minute although it seemed like ten. The brunette leaned forward and Kyle met him over the cup holders, drawn to him like a magnet (polar opposites for sure). Green eyes roamed Scott's face as Kyle listened to one last cry from his rationality.
"Mick's car." He reminded weakly in a mumbled whisper.
Scott slid his glasses off the bridge of his nose, hungry brown orbs boring right into the blonde's pupils. His wrist flicked, sending his sunglasses flying to the backseat.
"Fuck it."