mockturtle (hellblazer06) wrote,

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Tuesday (MA)

Fic bit [MA]:

    Ezra was kissing Buck and he could taste himself on Buck's lips.

    Buck loved the taste of Ezra. He tasted like silky smooth skin and sweet and oily soap and salt and when he had Ezra in his mouth he could feel his life and he could lick at the trembling pulse and make Ezra squirm and whisper his name, the way Ezra did when he really meant it, the way Ezra said his name like Buck was the only thing in the world to him that mattered, and Buck knew in that moment it was true. He loved the taste of Ezra and the saltiness that clung to his lips and the murmur of his name in his ears, spoken urgently by Ezra's voice. He loved to feel the beat of Ezra's heart beneath his touch, the heat of his skin, the way he moved, pressing against Buck and then drawing away, like a relentless tide against a pier, surging up and hissing Buck's name as the waves crashed around them. He loved the sea green eyes that were so cracked with pain, like flawed emeralds, eyes that always seemed to be asking him a question, and surprised when they read the answer. Eyes that hid so much of themselves yet could see clearly into the souls of other men, searching for those flaws, those cracks and weaknesses that could be prised open and shattered. He saw those eyes, begging for love and forgiveness and unsure of how to receive it. He loved the way Ezra's auburn hair would curl, one stray strand dropping down, reminding him of the old nursery rhyme. When he was good he was very, very good and when he was bad he was horrid. A naughty, spiteful little child but one minute with Ezra's mother explained that in bred and well taught viciousness. Ezra had such grand plans for himself, yet thought so little of himself. That conflict drove him, tugged at him, tore at his skin. Ezra envied his friends as much as he loved them. He saw their lives in hopelessly romantic shades while despising his own. He saw them as larger than life heroes, and himself the scavenger, nipping at their heels. The bitterness tainted Ezra, but in his heart was such sweetness, and Buck loved to see it shine out, like the dawning of a rosy pink sun, warm and so full of promise, so full of beauty. When he smiled, when he truly smiled, Ezra tasted sweeter than honey, more intoxicating than wine. He loved the taste of Ezra, sliding in his mouth. His love was better than wine, his kisses rained down on Buck's mouth in a heavy downpour and Buck was a thirsty man willing to drown in the river of Ezra. He came up for air, smelling the faint traces of cigar smoke and champagne on Ezra's skin, the faintest hint of lavender water on his clothes, and Buck breathed deeply of his lover's scent, feeling the brush of Ezra's light ginger stubble graze against his own darkening cheek. He could taste the soap, the expensive kind, still clinging to Ezra's skin. He loved the taste of Ezra, so clean and rich and tasting of a hundred different things. He could taste them all and know the picture that made up the whole. He loved the taste of Ezra and he would gladly kiss him until the day he died, but for now he murmured huskily in his lover's ear, perhaps they should take this upstairs before somebody else walked in and caught them in an intimate arrangement. He rose up and took his lover with him, the taste of him still lingering in his mouth, knowing he'd taste that skin again soon enough, and Ezra would be tasting his.

Today's pages:

Somebody just dragged a chair along and it made squeak not unlike a baby lorikeet being menaced by hungry currawongs (the sound of two randy lorikeets getting it on is another sound I'm well acquainted with). The scary thing, while human children leave me cold, I responded to this without thinking. Crazy bird lady it is, then.

Still, can't wait for Smallville. There's a pretty in pink, isn't he, pic of TW in TV Hits today I notice. It's the same one from Who only less written over (from a scanning point of view this means lest fudging with photoshop - grin). Yeah I'm so sad but I don't think the derros at the train station care what sort of magazines I browse through at 6.10 am - grin. I certainly wouldn't be seen browsing the stuff I do with actual people present :)

I'm really starting to worry about Flash & Green Lantern in Justice League (chortle). Although he's not the real GL, he's just some affirmitive action ring in and I don't like him cause I was fond of Hal Jordan, the real Green Lantern. Though Hal only ever had eyes for Oliver (ahem) Queen aka the Green Arrow (qv their adventures together in the 60s).



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