Still pissy ...
Apr. 3rd, 2007 04:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
apocalypsos... although it's currently at the complete blank that comes up in my brain every time I've opened a document file in the past week. RAAAAGEface, y'all. It's not even funny. I want to hit something with a fancy designer purse and I don't even own one.
So here's the first idea that popped into my head! (Marc/Justin futurefic, Ugly Betty.)
*****
Afterwards, they cuddle.
It lasts for about five very sober seconds, at which point the laughter bubbles up in Justin's chest because he's got the worst poker face on the planet. Marc suddenly remembers that Fashion TV's having an expose about leather-studded collars on the elderly and clicks on the TV before Justin can complain. Justin flops over Marc's chest to grab at last month's Mode sticking out of the bedside table, with all of his dark wavy hair and wiry runner's muscles and the wicked smile on that mouth that makes Marc seriously worry about his job security. A secret affair with the boss's barely-out-of-his-teens nephew. He must be deranged.
Marc snaps, "What, did your mother raise you in an Aqua-Net-filled gay barn or something?" without any real bite to the words.
Justin smiles against his chest in response, flicks his tongue over Marc's nipple as he pulls back. A strip of condom packets trails from the worn copy of Mode, scrapes across Marc's skin, and he flushes bright pink as Justin moves back.
"You're a tease," Marc mutters.
"I'm only a tease if what I do gets you hot," Justin says with a grin.
Marc groans as Justin nuzzles at the curve of his neck, tongue rasping roughshod over his pulse point as if he's trying to lick Marc into submission and oh, sweet holy Gucci bags on sale, that might actually be working. "Okay," Marc says, his voice ragged and maybe just a little squeaky, "if you're successfully quoting The Breakfast Club, I am definitely not keeping you busy enough on Sunday afternoons at, say, three-fifty-five or so."
"Yeah, well, if you're still talking, I'm not keeping you busy enough, either."
Justin slips under the sheets with a teasing twinkle in his eyes, then pops back up again to say, "You will tell me just how apocalyptic that leather collar report is, right? I mean, seriously. No one should have a plastic hip and a head-to-toe leather outfit. It defies the laws of nature."
Marc frowns and waves a hand in the air. "Yeah, yeah, it's a sign of the end times. Are you going to blow me or not?"
Justin just cocks an eyebrow and nips at Marc's chest.
****
So here's the first idea that popped into my head! (Marc/Justin futurefic, Ugly Betty.)
*****
Afterwards, they cuddle.
It lasts for about five very sober seconds, at which point the laughter bubbles up in Justin's chest because he's got the worst poker face on the planet. Marc suddenly remembers that Fashion TV's having an expose about leather-studded collars on the elderly and clicks on the TV before Justin can complain. Justin flops over Marc's chest to grab at last month's Mode sticking out of the bedside table, with all of his dark wavy hair and wiry runner's muscles and the wicked smile on that mouth that makes Marc seriously worry about his job security. A secret affair with the boss's barely-out-of-his-teens nephew. He must be deranged.
Marc snaps, "What, did your mother raise you in an Aqua-Net-filled gay barn or something?" without any real bite to the words.
Justin smiles against his chest in response, flicks his tongue over Marc's nipple as he pulls back. A strip of condom packets trails from the worn copy of Mode, scrapes across Marc's skin, and he flushes bright pink as Justin moves back.
"You're a tease," Marc mutters.
"I'm only a tease if what I do gets you hot," Justin says with a grin.
Marc groans as Justin nuzzles at the curve of his neck, tongue rasping roughshod over his pulse point as if he's trying to lick Marc into submission and oh, sweet holy Gucci bags on sale, that might actually be working. "Okay," Marc says, his voice ragged and maybe just a little squeaky, "if you're successfully quoting The Breakfast Club, I am definitely not keeping you busy enough on Sunday afternoons at, say, three-fifty-five or so."
"Yeah, well, if you're still talking, I'm not keeping you busy enough, either."
Justin slips under the sheets with a teasing twinkle in his eyes, then pops back up again to say, "You will tell me just how apocalyptic that leather collar report is, right? I mean, seriously. No one should have a plastic hip and a head-to-toe leather outfit. It defies the laws of nature."
Marc frowns and waves a hand in the air. "Yeah, yeah, it's a sign of the end times. Are you going to blow me or not?"
Justin just cocks an eyebrow and nips at Marc's chest.
****
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no subject
Date: 2007-04-03 08:59 pm (UTC)I tend to use journals or notebooks with some kind of design on the page. It helps fool my brain into thinking there's already something there, and makes it easier to just put words down and keep going. I usually only have to do this for a few pages, then I type in what I've got and can keep going on the computer.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-03 09:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 10:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 11:40 am (UTC)Nicely done. Subtle. Could mean a couple of things, now that I think about it. Gave me squiggles of glee!
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Date: 2007-04-05 12:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-25 07:35 am (UTC)neeeeeee!!!
this is amazing!
(p.s. would you happen to know where i can find other good fics with this pairing?)