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knights_say_nihA Lazy Morning
Lalala GODDAMNED ENABLERS *shakes fist.*
I'm going to the Special Hell.
Soft R.
Read on.
"Nnnnnnnnnnnngah."
"…is he always this eloquent in the mornings?"
Ramon raises his head off Random’s chest to glance briefly over at Sands, then up at Random, who’s just beginning to stir.
"You haven’t seen anything yet. Wait for it…"
"...’s cold put a coat on or the penguin’s’ll get you…"
Sands arches an eyebrow and looks the small man up and down with a grin.
"That’s some story, princess."
Ramon sighs, and rests his head back down on Random’s stomach. The Amberite stirs, but not overly much, moaning softly.
"He can’t hear you. He’s still out."
The CIA-- ex-CIA because Ramon wouldn’t have any other sort in his bed on a lazy Sunday morning, reaches for the bedside table for a cigarette. The gesture aborts immediately and a sharp glare from Ramon who is not having that sort of shit in their bedroom, thank you very much. Though in all honesty, he hadn’t expected to have this sort either. The cocky, grinning, CIA-- ex-CIA sort. Even if he did turn out to have pretty eyes.
"Sleeps in mornings then, does he?"
"Mmmm."
To be honest, Sands didn’t really expect to be there either. But there had been Tequila, and then there had been Atlantean and that was some powerful shit, it seemed. On top of that, one gorgeous man pulling at his shirt collar and whispering dirty little nothings into his skin hadn’t been the sort of thing he was going to refuse. He had initially balked when it turned out the Cartel was going to be there too but then his arms had wrapped around the blonde and had him moaning in three touches and some little voice in the back of Sands head that only really showed up once sobriety had been chased away pointed out that the man was attractive, and if he could make Random moan like that while you were…
Random chooses this moment to stir, cutting off the remarkably pleasant train of thought by reaching with a yawn for the bedside table and the glass of water there. His arm connects instead with Sands. Upon which eyes open in bewilderment, and glance over at him.
“Oh yes. Goodmorning.”
Sands is, it must be said, rather surprised when he’s pulled into a kiss. For someone so surprisingly short Random is rather pushy in bed. Not that he minded. Slow fingers reach up to touch his bottom lip- feel the mark where teeth (Ramon’s?) bit a little too enthusiastically. Not that he minded that, either. It had just been… surprising.
Now Random has turned to Ramon and is kissing him rather more deeply than he did Sands. To be expected, really, the pair of them are in painfully in love in the way that makes Sands suddenly wonder if Shakespeare hadn’t been quite the idealistic fuckwit he always assumed in high school.
The kiss seems to have turned into a friendly grope of what was a much nicer ass than he’d assumed it would be, and after a moment he moves to stand and leave the lovers too it.
But, with the same determination as he had shown last night, (when after the pair dragged Sands through his third, almost painful orgasm of the night Random had cheerfully told him to stop squirming and fallen asleep half on top of him, with a spare arm looped around Ramon’s waist and a leg draped over him too for good measure,) Random’s arm now reached out again to close around his forearm, and tug gently.
Because who could resist an Amberite with such a winning smile, Sands sighs and lets himself be pulled back into the bed.
His thoughts, finally, as his fingers wind in dark hair and a warm mouth closes around him are that he hopes to God he’ll be invited back.
Lalala GODDAMNED ENABLERS *shakes fist.*
I'm going to the Special Hell.
Soft R.
Read on.
"Nnnnnnnnnnnngah."
"…is he always this eloquent in the mornings?"
Ramon raises his head off Random’s chest to glance briefly over at Sands, then up at Random, who’s just beginning to stir.
"You haven’t seen anything yet. Wait for it…"
"...’s cold put a coat on or the penguin’s’ll get you…"
Sands arches an eyebrow and looks the small man up and down with a grin.
"That’s some story, princess."
Ramon sighs, and rests his head back down on Random’s stomach. The Amberite stirs, but not overly much, moaning softly.
"He can’t hear you. He’s still out."
The CIA-- ex-CIA because Ramon wouldn’t have any other sort in his bed on a lazy Sunday morning, reaches for the bedside table for a cigarette. The gesture aborts immediately and a sharp glare from Ramon who is not having that sort of shit in their bedroom, thank you very much. Though in all honesty, he hadn’t expected to have this sort either. The cocky, grinning, CIA-- ex-CIA sort. Even if he did turn out to have pretty eyes.
"Sleeps in mornings then, does he?"
"Mmmm."
To be honest, Sands didn’t really expect to be there either. But there had been Tequila, and then there had been Atlantean and that was some powerful shit, it seemed. On top of that, one gorgeous man pulling at his shirt collar and whispering dirty little nothings into his skin hadn’t been the sort of thing he was going to refuse. He had initially balked when it turned out the Cartel was going to be there too but then his arms had wrapped around the blonde and had him moaning in three touches and some little voice in the back of Sands head that only really showed up once sobriety had been chased away pointed out that the man was attractive, and if he could make Random moan like that while you were…
Random chooses this moment to stir, cutting off the remarkably pleasant train of thought by reaching with a yawn for the bedside table and the glass of water there. His arm connects instead with Sands. Upon which eyes open in bewilderment, and glance over at him.
“Oh yes. Goodmorning.”
Sands is, it must be said, rather surprised when he’s pulled into a kiss. For someone so surprisingly short Random is rather pushy in bed. Not that he minded. Slow fingers reach up to touch his bottom lip- feel the mark where teeth (Ramon’s?) bit a little too enthusiastically. Not that he minded that, either. It had just been… surprising.
Now Random has turned to Ramon and is kissing him rather more deeply than he did Sands. To be expected, really, the pair of them are in painfully in love in the way that makes Sands suddenly wonder if Shakespeare hadn’t been quite the idealistic fuckwit he always assumed in high school.
The kiss seems to have turned into a friendly grope of what was a much nicer ass than he’d assumed it would be, and after a moment he moves to stand and leave the lovers too it.
But, with the same determination as he had shown last night, (when after the pair dragged Sands through his third, almost painful orgasm of the night Random had cheerfully told him to stop squirming and fallen asleep half on top of him, with a spare arm looped around Ramon’s waist and a leg draped over him too for good measure,) Random’s arm now reached out again to close around his forearm, and tug gently.
Because who could resist an Amberite with such a winning smile, Sands sighs and lets himself be pulled back into the bed.
His thoughts, finally, as his fingers wind in dark hair and a warm mouth closes around him are that he hopes to God he’ll be invited back.
