(no subject)

[onlyoneof]

[SHOOTING LINCOLN IN THE FACE.

I mean.

This post is for journal threads]

Comments

[skepticalities]

[jkgfdlk.]

[onlyoneof]

[the tables have turned, nips at his neck]

[skepticalities]

[. . . damnit peter bishop.]

[onlyoneof]

[will keep this up unless he's told to stop]

[skepticalities]

[taps against his hand harshly.]

[onlyoneof]

[okay, I guess that's almost being told. Pauses, grinning against Lincoln's neck]

[skepticalities]

— take it easy . . .

[onlyoneof]

I am.

[skepticalities]

. . .

[onlyoneof]

You're the one not wearing a shirt.

[skepticalities]

And whose fault is that . . . ?

[onlyoneof]

Yours.

[tries to roll over and pull Lincoln on top instead]

[skepticalities]

[. . . well okay.]

Not exactly.

[onlyoneof]

You made me want to make out with you.

[skepticalities]

By saying "bulldog."

[leaning in to kiss him anyway.]

[onlyoneof]

It wasn't-- [kissing is awesome]

[skepticalities]

[shhh only escapism now.]

[onlyoneof]

[is a lot better at this with Lincoln leading]

[skepticalities]

[it's mostly kissing and some touching, but all of it is very restrained and gentle — not needy or frustrated.]

[onlyoneof]

[I WASN'T NEEDY GDIT. But Peter is relaxing, very gradually]

[skepticalities]

[eventually tapers off, pulling back.]

[onlyoneof]

[looks at him]

... thank you.

[skepticalities]

[shifts off of him, laying down next to him.]

For what?

[onlyoneof]

... you're good at knowing what people need. You're good at me.

[skepticalities]

. . . I try.