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rainbowfic2016-05-13 06:40 pm
kay_brooke) wrote in rainbowfic2016-05-13 06:40 pm
Antique Brass #22, Rainbow #14
Name: kay_brooke
Story: Unusual Florida
Colors: Antique Brass #22 (Oh my God, you're gay? Finally! Thank God, someone who will appreciate all this. It's a waste of time working out for these people. Here, I'll take my shirt off for ya.), Rainbow #14 (poppers)
Styles/Supplies: Frame, Seed Beads, Pointillism
Word Count: 391
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply
Summary: Philip meets Dylan.
Note: Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
He caught the man’s eye at a bar, just a regular night out on the town, no reason to think anything of it until the drinks started coming.
The guy moved closer after that, extended his hand like an old-fashioned gentleman and introduced himself as Dylan.
“Name like that, no wonder you’re gay,” said Philip, and then Dylan’s tongue was in his mouth and his hand was resting against his cock and they shuffled around the backseat as the taxi driver ignored them.
The hotel room was tasteful--no, he had no idea if that was true, because all Philip got was an impression of blue walls before Dylan obliterated every other thought in his head.
He was embarrassed to admit he’d never tried recreational drugs, no, not even in college, but the rush was immediate and the sex turned up to like a billion watts and Philip wondered why he’d spent all those years missing out.
When it was over they lay side by side, sweat-slick arms pressed together while they caught their breath, and then Dylan started giggling and Philip joined in, and they laughed until they were ready for round two.
Morning came too soon, sunlight in Philip’s eyes as he woke to Dylan ordering breakfast for the both of them: pancakes and eggs, bacon and coffee, and Dylan even somehow knew how Philip took his hot beverages.
Then it was time for him to leave, to go back to his life and his job, so he lingered over that final kiss, fixing it in his memory and telling himself he wasn’t falling in love.
Dylan was only in town for a conference, his own home five hundred miles away, and Philip was so sure this was a one time thing that he didn’t even find the phone number Dylan had slipped into his jeans pocket until two days later when he went to wash them.
Calling was like being a teenager again, butterflies in his stomach and his breath hard to catch, but then there was Dylan’s voice on the other end, bright and delighted and everything Philip had dreamed.
Once they started talking they didn’t stop, and then they made plans to see each other again, and suddenly one night seemed less like one night and more like a beginning.
Maybe he was falling in love after all.
kay_brookeStory: Unusual Florida
Colors: Antique Brass #22 (Oh my God, you're gay? Finally! Thank God, someone who will appreciate all this. It's a waste of time working out for these people. Here, I'll take my shirt off for ya.), Rainbow #14 (poppers)
Styles/Supplies: Frame, Seed Beads, Pointillism
Word Count: 391
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply
Summary: Philip meets Dylan.
Note: Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
He caught the man’s eye at a bar, just a regular night out on the town, no reason to think anything of it until the drinks started coming.
The guy moved closer after that, extended his hand like an old-fashioned gentleman and introduced himself as Dylan.
“Name like that, no wonder you’re gay,” said Philip, and then Dylan’s tongue was in his mouth and his hand was resting against his cock and they shuffled around the backseat as the taxi driver ignored them.
The hotel room was tasteful--no, he had no idea if that was true, because all Philip got was an impression of blue walls before Dylan obliterated every other thought in his head.
He was embarrassed to admit he’d never tried recreational drugs, no, not even in college, but the rush was immediate and the sex turned up to like a billion watts and Philip wondered why he’d spent all those years missing out.
When it was over they lay side by side, sweat-slick arms pressed together while they caught their breath, and then Dylan started giggling and Philip joined in, and they laughed until they were ready for round two.
Morning came too soon, sunlight in Philip’s eyes as he woke to Dylan ordering breakfast for the both of them: pancakes and eggs, bacon and coffee, and Dylan even somehow knew how Philip took his hot beverages.
Then it was time for him to leave, to go back to his life and his job, so he lingered over that final kiss, fixing it in his memory and telling himself he wasn’t falling in love.
Dylan was only in town for a conference, his own home five hundred miles away, and Philip was so sure this was a one time thing that he didn’t even find the phone number Dylan had slipped into his jeans pocket until two days later when he went to wash them.
Calling was like being a teenager again, butterflies in his stomach and his breath hard to catch, but then there was Dylan’s voice on the other end, bright and delighted and everything Philip had dreamed.
Once they started talking they didn’t stop, and then they made plans to see each other again, and suddenly one night seemed less like one night and more like a beginning.
Maybe he was falling in love after all.
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