kobold So, the lips that touched J. Grant's cheek have touched Pete Abrams's ear... it's like they nuzzled, and I was the one who made it happen.
flemco "Dear God,
Please kill Randy with something incurable, slow, and extremely painful. A combination of Ebola and third-degree heartburn should be about right.
kobold Awwww, don't feel bad, little camper. It's nothing a little Grant/Abrams slash fic won't cure.
"Slowly, James slid close to Pete, their eyes locking for a moment in an embrace almost as tender as that of angel arms. James whispered in Pete's ears, 'Make me feel nifty, nerd-boy.'"
aeire "Oooooo stay GOOD Pete, stay GOOD!"
kobold "Stay good ALL NIGHT LONG," James bellowed.
The two continued in a perfect mechanical motion, their love grinding into the night, until with a solid, strong spasm, it was done and both collapsed into each other.
Pete brushed James's cheek and smiled. "Poing," he uttered.
aeire "Ready again already?" James queried, eyes wide as he discovered for himself the answer to that very question.
"Seven days a week baby," Pete breathed into his ear. "Although sometimes I have Ian fill in for me on weekends."
From here and here.