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raynedanserwrites[popslash] 373 words of TrickyFish for the Awesome April Challenge
"Fluff n' Stuff"
When Lance pushed the door open, Lupe Fiasco played somewhere deeper in the house. He grinned and followed the sound, wondering what he’d find. When he found the source, he stopped in his tracks. Chris was in the kitchen. Baking. That in itself was unusual enough, but the fact that this seemed to be planned was even more amusing.
A chocolate cake was teetering precariously in front of Chris, its two layers separated by a layer of fluffy white that oozed out. Lance leaned a shoulder against the door frame. Chris’s brow scrunched up in concentration as he spread pink frosting around the cake. When he finally looked up, there was a smear of white powder across his forehead and the tip of his tongue stuck out the corner of his mouth a little bit.
Lance chuckled. “What are you doing?”
The tongue quickly disappeared back in Chris’s mouth and he wiped his hand over his forehead again, spreading the white powder. “I’m making a cake.”
“That’s pretty obvious. Why?”
“JC’s birthday is coming up, so I wanted to make him an awesome cake,” Chris continued. He dipped his finger into a frosting bowl and licked at it, dark eyes never leaving Lance’s face.
Lance ignored that and quickly glanced at the calendar. “Chris. It’s the middle of July.”
Chris nodded and took a step closer. “I know.”
Lance swallowed roughly. “You know,” he echoed.
Chris nodded, and then licked his finger clean. “I do. But I wanted the practice. And the frosting tastes really good. Some old recipe my grandmother had.”
Lance looked at the half destroyed kitchen. Bowls, utensils, powdered sugar were everywhere. “And your grandmother gave it to you?”
“Of course she did.” Chris reached back and dipped a clean finger into the pink tinted fluff. “You should try it,” he suggested, holding his finger up to Lance’s mouth. He wiggled it. “Try it…” he coaxed.
Lance decided that two could play this game. He took hold of Chris’s hand and brought his finger to his mouth, slowly sucking it in to its base, cheeks hollowing. When he released it, it was with an obscene “pop.”
“You’re right. It is good. What else can we do with it?” Lance wondered.
"Fluff n' Stuff"
When Lance pushed the door open, Lupe Fiasco played somewhere deeper in the house. He grinned and followed the sound, wondering what he’d find. When he found the source, he stopped in his tracks. Chris was in the kitchen. Baking. That in itself was unusual enough, but the fact that this seemed to be planned was even more amusing.
A chocolate cake was teetering precariously in front of Chris, its two layers separated by a layer of fluffy white that oozed out. Lance leaned a shoulder against the door frame. Chris’s brow scrunched up in concentration as he spread pink frosting around the cake. When he finally looked up, there was a smear of white powder across his forehead and the tip of his tongue stuck out the corner of his mouth a little bit.
Lance chuckled. “What are you doing?”
The tongue quickly disappeared back in Chris’s mouth and he wiped his hand over his forehead again, spreading the white powder. “I’m making a cake.”
“That’s pretty obvious. Why?”
“JC’s birthday is coming up, so I wanted to make him an awesome cake,” Chris continued. He dipped his finger into a frosting bowl and licked at it, dark eyes never leaving Lance’s face.
Lance ignored that and quickly glanced at the calendar. “Chris. It’s the middle of July.”
Chris nodded and took a step closer. “I know.”
Lance swallowed roughly. “You know,” he echoed.
Chris nodded, and then licked his finger clean. “I do. But I wanted the practice. And the frosting tastes really good. Some old recipe my grandmother had.”
Lance looked at the half destroyed kitchen. Bowls, utensils, powdered sugar were everywhere. “And your grandmother gave it to you?”
“Of course she did.” Chris reached back and dipped a clean finger into the pink tinted fluff. “You should try it,” he suggested, holding his finger up to Lance’s mouth. He wiggled it. “Try it…” he coaxed.
Lance decided that two could play this game. He took hold of Chris’s hand and brought his finger to his mouth, slowly sucking it in to its base, cheeks hollowing. When he released it, it was with an obscene “pop.”
“You’re right. It is good. What else can we do with it?” Lance wondered.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-28 10:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-28 10:30 pm (UTC)