Reverie - DVD Extras, Epilogue
Mar. 20th, 2011 03:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sonora_conejaPairing: Patrick/Brian
Rating: R
Warnings: none
Summary: A fill for this prompt over at the kink meme
PWP with Patrick Wilson and Brian Bloom in the bathroom, right after Reverie...
Patrick can see that jam, red and gooey, right on the edge of Brian’s lip. His co-star kind of gives him this look, and the actor just can’t help himself. He has to touch. Thumbs a thumb right over the spill and brings it up to his own mouth, wrapping his lips around his own digit, watching Brian’s eyes twist up a little at the corners. Makes a show of pulling it back out, making a little popping noise as he does so.
“Think Liam should have been calling you the slut, Patrick.” And Brian finishes the slice of toast in two bites.
Oh yeah. They both love it like this. Him, the slut on this cast? Hardly.
“Why? I can’t help it if you taste so damn good, honey,” he teases back.
Wiping his hands unceremoniously on his jeans, Brian looks around, grabs Patrick’s arm and drags them both back through the bathroom door. Two urinals, one stall, all empty. Brian clicks the lock shut behind him and grins wildly.
Patrick smirks back, and bats his eyes. “Like strawberries.”
“Motherfucker,” Brian kind of sighs, one hand twitching subtly. Like they’re in some kind of Western, about to draw out their six-shooters, and Patrick laughs at the thought of that. But it only lasts for a moment, the little stand-off, before they’re on each other, a flurry of hands and teeth, both going in for a hard kiss, trying to tear it out of the other, both trying to take control once the clash turns into solid contact and blood starts rushing to all the right places.
Brian’s wily, but Patrick hardly ever lets him get the upper hand unless he wants him to, and it doesn’t take them long to end up on the wall, Patrick still giggling a little, Brian’s chest bucking up against his own as belts and pants and boxers get out of the way of all that hard flesh now sending sparks into his eyes.
Thank god the paper towels are right there, Patrick thinks, grabbing over for a big handful, as Brian palms just enough liquid soap to prevent rugburn or some shit like that, and takes them both in hand.
It’s close and hot and grinding, and Patrick smiles into the next kiss, seizing it away from Brian, tasting strawberry fucking everywhere, seeking it out with hard thrusts of his tongue, tearing at his lover’s hair, fisting his hands on broad shoulders, pulling that warm body closer to his as the other actor curses around his lips and drives his hips up into Patrick’s, hand up, the wad of towels down just in time to prevent them both from leaving embarrassing evidence all over each other, although Brian does like to do that from time to time...
They’re both just sweating, breathing hard, and Patrick falls back against the wall, still laughing. Brian’s somewhere between amused, confused and blissed-out, as he wipes them both the rest of the way off.
“I miss a joke or something?” his co-star asks, washing his hands off. He sniffs, and goes back for another round of soap.
“No, no. Like a couple of goddamn teenagers,” Patrick says, not giving a shit if Liam, or anyone else, for that matter, is going to notice or not, and breaks down into another laughing fit.
Brian shakes his head and tugs himself back together. “Do we have to go out there with those two lovebirds?”
Patrick shrugs. “I did just say I was going to the bathroom. He’ll expect us back. You know how Liam can get with...”
“Yeah, yeah,” Brian grumbles as Patrick gets his pants back into position, no heat behind it at all. “I know.”
They stare at each other for a minute, and then Patrick grins and leans the shorter man over the sink for a quick, deep, soft kiss. “Did I tell you about my plan?” he murmurs when they have to break.
“Plan?” There’s just a little note of skepticism in Brian’s voice, fingers on the edge of the ceramic bowl. “Haven’t you tormented Neeson enough for one lifetime?”
He pretends to think about this. Shrugs again, just his shoulders, arms crossed. “Haven’t even scratched the surface of that goldmine yet.”
Brian shakes his head, that grin back. “What’d you have in mind?”
“For one?” Patrick whispers. “Don’t even think about touching your hair.”
“You are so going to hell, Patrick,” Brian finally says, checking out his reflection, his dark hair up at odd angles where Patrick pulled on it, and smiles back as he unlocks the bathroom. Not doing a thing about that mess up top. Patrick thinks for a second, undoes the top button of his fly, and follows his co-star out.
Bradley blushes. Liam almost splurts orange juice out his nose and Brian has to rub the older actor’s back as he coughs his way through it. Winks at Patrick.
Bradley blushes deeper.
Yeah, Patrick thinks, going for his abandoned coffee cup, the menu.
So goddamn worth it.
Rating: R
Warnings: none
Summary: A fill for this prompt over at the kink meme
PWP with Patrick Wilson and Brian Bloom in the bathroom, right after Reverie...
Patrick can see that jam, red and gooey, right on the edge of Brian’s lip. His co-star kind of gives him this look, and the actor just can’t help himself. He has to touch. Thumbs a thumb right over the spill and brings it up to his own mouth, wrapping his lips around his own digit, watching Brian’s eyes twist up a little at the corners. Makes a show of pulling it back out, making a little popping noise as he does so.
“Think Liam should have been calling you the slut, Patrick.” And Brian finishes the slice of toast in two bites.
Oh yeah. They both love it like this. Him, the slut on this cast? Hardly.
“Why? I can’t help it if you taste so damn good, honey,” he teases back.
Wiping his hands unceremoniously on his jeans, Brian looks around, grabs Patrick’s arm and drags them both back through the bathroom door. Two urinals, one stall, all empty. Brian clicks the lock shut behind him and grins wildly.
Patrick smirks back, and bats his eyes. “Like strawberries.”
“Motherfucker,” Brian kind of sighs, one hand twitching subtly. Like they’re in some kind of Western, about to draw out their six-shooters, and Patrick laughs at the thought of that. But it only lasts for a moment, the little stand-off, before they’re on each other, a flurry of hands and teeth, both going in for a hard kiss, trying to tear it out of the other, both trying to take control once the clash turns into solid contact and blood starts rushing to all the right places.
Brian’s wily, but Patrick hardly ever lets him get the upper hand unless he wants him to, and it doesn’t take them long to end up on the wall, Patrick still giggling a little, Brian’s chest bucking up against his own as belts and pants and boxers get out of the way of all that hard flesh now sending sparks into his eyes.
Thank god the paper towels are right there, Patrick thinks, grabbing over for a big handful, as Brian palms just enough liquid soap to prevent rugburn or some shit like that, and takes them both in hand.
It’s close and hot and grinding, and Patrick smiles into the next kiss, seizing it away from Brian, tasting strawberry fucking everywhere, seeking it out with hard thrusts of his tongue, tearing at his lover’s hair, fisting his hands on broad shoulders, pulling that warm body closer to his as the other actor curses around his lips and drives his hips up into Patrick’s, hand up, the wad of towels down just in time to prevent them both from leaving embarrassing evidence all over each other, although Brian does like to do that from time to time...
They’re both just sweating, breathing hard, and Patrick falls back against the wall, still laughing. Brian’s somewhere between amused, confused and blissed-out, as he wipes them both the rest of the way off.
“I miss a joke or something?” his co-star asks, washing his hands off. He sniffs, and goes back for another round of soap.
“No, no. Like a couple of goddamn teenagers,” Patrick says, not giving a shit if Liam, or anyone else, for that matter, is going to notice or not, and breaks down into another laughing fit.
Brian shakes his head and tugs himself back together. “Do we have to go out there with those two lovebirds?”
Patrick shrugs. “I did just say I was going to the bathroom. He’ll expect us back. You know how Liam can get with...”
“Yeah, yeah,” Brian grumbles as Patrick gets his pants back into position, no heat behind it at all. “I know.”
They stare at each other for a minute, and then Patrick grins and leans the shorter man over the sink for a quick, deep, soft kiss. “Did I tell you about my plan?” he murmurs when they have to break.
“Plan?” There’s just a little note of skepticism in Brian’s voice, fingers on the edge of the ceramic bowl. “Haven’t you tormented Neeson enough for one lifetime?”
He pretends to think about this. Shrugs again, just his shoulders, arms crossed. “Haven’t even scratched the surface of that goldmine yet.”
Brian shakes his head, that grin back. “What’d you have in mind?”
“For one?” Patrick whispers. “Don’t even think about touching your hair.”
“You are so going to hell, Patrick,” Brian finally says, checking out his reflection, his dark hair up at odd angles where Patrick pulled on it, and smiles back as he unlocks the bathroom. Not doing a thing about that mess up top. Patrick thinks for a second, undoes the top button of his fly, and follows his co-star out.
Bradley blushes. Liam almost splurts orange juice out his nose and Brian has to rub the older actor’s back as he coughs his way through it. Winks at Patrick.
Bradley blushes deeper.
Yeah, Patrick thinks, going for his abandoned coffee cup, the menu.
So goddamn worth it.
