joey: this sucks
justin: what?? I can't hear you, BECAUSE I'M DROWNING. also, chris's junk, my head. help.
joey: on your own, buddy. if we survive, I'll buy
Okay, I suck, because here's what came out when I started writing my TrickC ficlet:
JC was still moving when Chris finally managed to pull out and flop over on his back, still flexing his hips in tight little circles. "Come on," he growled, "fucking do it," and he was sounding a little desperate, a little strung out, so Chris slid a hand over his damp, hot skin. "Fuck," JC gasped, "Fuck," and he rolled over and pushed, and kept on pushing, and finally Justin groaned.
"Awesome," Chris mumbled, patting randomly until he found the knobby knee clamped against JC's flank, "rock on," and he dozed off, stroking Justin's shin to the rhythm of JC's shuddering breaths.
Well, I kind of think of TrickC Day as 3manbus Day anyway. Don't know why. Sry?