The long blond curls tickled Jim's abdomen and thighs (harder and more defined than it had been when Jim had first arrived in Rohan, three seasons ago) when his lover leaned over him, teasing; Jim grabbed and Eomer dodged - the two men tussled in the bedclothes. They were mindful of their strength and skills. This was nothing but play, after all.
"So, what happens if I guess right?" The floppy-haired man at the bar laughed, his red mouth open and his body language inviting. His name was Charles and he was the kind of man who could be picked up in a bar with a coin trick.
Erik smiled with all his teeth, just a bit predatory. "Head for heads. Tail for tails." Erik would make sure Charles guessed correctly; he liked the look of this one.
"Your oil needs to be hotter." The dry voice, words delivered with a sardonic twist that was bitter as lemon peel, made Charles flinch - Erik wasn't supposed to be home for another hour. Charles wasn't anywhere near done.
Flour littered the horizontal surfaces of the kitchen, trailed from the countertop to the floor.
Erik chuckled, out of breath and desperately overheated from their exertions, against Raven's neck, the blue skin so fine pored it felt like wet satin. "You have no idea how much energy it takes to pretend that sort of boundless optimism."
Though of course she does; Raven's just more practiced at putting on Charles like a mask with an old-fashioned suit attached. She huffed a laugh of her own and stretched, relaxing back into her own form. "Practice being earnest more."
Kirk's got no idea how he did it, but this little guy, this short man has managed to drink Kirk under the table. Proverbially. Not literally. Neither of them are in actual point of fact under the table. That's probably because they are draped over the top of the table and, oh, oh, oh, Bones is going to kill Kirk in the morning. If that guy with all the teeth doesn't do it first.
"No, no," says the short man with the floppy hair and weird accent - not that accents are weird because Kirk is a man of the galaxy and he knows there are lots of ways to pronounce Standard, just look at his own crew, his amazing beautiful wonderful crew - "you have to have a hook. I use mutation - everyone has a mutation of some kind, after all." He's way more serious about the topic than Kirk can wrap his head around after all the blue stuff they've had to drink between them. But the serious business scientist act is cute. Kirk's always liked 'em brainy.
He's probably going to end up under the table after all.
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Erik smiled with all his teeth, just a bit predatory. "Head for heads. Tail for tails." Erik would make sure Charles guessed correctly; he liked the look of this one.
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Flour littered the horizontal surfaces of the kitchen, trailed from the countertop to the floor.
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Though of course she does; Raven's just more practiced at putting on Charles like a mask with an old-fashioned suit attached. She huffed a laugh of her own and stretched, relaxing back into her own form. "Practice being earnest more."
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"No, no," says the short man with the floppy hair and weird accent - not that accents are weird because Kirk is a man of the galaxy and he knows there are lots of ways to pronounce Standard, just look at his own crew, his amazing beautiful wonderful crew - "you have to have a hook. I use mutation - everyone has a mutation of some kind, after all." He's way more serious about the topic than Kirk can wrap his head around after all the blue stuff they've had to drink between them. But the serious business scientist act is cute. Kirk's always liked 'em brainy.
He's probably going to end up under the table after all.
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