Warning, Tamsin and Rhiannon

[grassangel]

Title: The wrong

Style: Drabble
Characters/Pairing: Roy/Ed
Rating: PG
Genre: Humour

"I can't put my pants on in the dark!" Ed whined, sounds of clothing jostling caused by his attempts to despite his statement.

"Turn the light on then," a voice replied lazily, turning over in half-consciousness.

"You lazy bastard, you turn a light on! There are two bedside lamps, one switch, a torch and one ignition glove all within easy reach." There was a patch of swearing as the speaker took a fall, probably on some sort of jetsam littered around the room.

A torch was switched on, the light shining dully underneath covers so as to not blind the user.

"I think I can see the problem Ed," the dry voice held a tone of amusement as the torchlight flickered over the sheets, illuminating the irritated adolescent.

"You're trying to put my pants on."

Title: untitled

Warning: Almost smut but not quite because I'm a virgin. Think of it as a scene with pea soup fog.

Style: Drabble
Character/Pairing: UNKNOWN but please, it should be obvious.
Rating: R-15
Genre: Not quite smut.

03. L'amour et la Morte/ ~And I don't know if it's a miracle or just chemicals in us~

Skin clashes with skin, heat diffusion failing as energy radiates and is absorbed; sweat pouring off in an attempt to cool bodies down. Sweat that flowed, only to be lapped up by an exploring tongue, exciting nerves.

Excited grunts growl through ribcages, vibrating into the other, another shared sensation separate from what that they are already experiencing...

Thrust, thrust, thrust.

There is synchronicity as the two beat out a path together, entwining, twisting.

Panted words escape between breaths, "Fuck. I-I- fuck.. I-"

There might have been screaming at that point; but everything was raw, everything was out, released. Might have been if they weren't blinded by what was coursing through their systems; pleasure, adrenaline, excitement, testosterone.

They may have murmured afterwards, maybe panted as oxygen flooded in and carbon dioxide was breathed out.

Fingers did trace over skin to lick and taste at salt and water. Flesh did whisper against flesh how much it loved the other, breath tickling delicate tissue.
Air hums in the throat of one as it moves against its partner, a sigh, a thrum of reciprocation to the other's words.

Delicate words float quietly through grey midnight, illuminated by streetlamps through curtains.

"I love you too."