last and worst for the day! XDDD
Anonymous asked: Dave/Naruto, hooking up at a house party (papabrostrider is to blame for this one)
dear lord why does it work.
840 words.
--
It's not like it's rare at his gigs for someone to sidle up to the booth and go, "Hey! Nice music!", grinning and interested.
"If you're hitting on me, queue's on your left," Dave replies, and then he looks.
The man has nice arms. Solid shoulders, strong biceps. Baby face still, baby-blue eyes in the white strobe lights and friendly dimples. Someone got him with funny cat-whiskers paint that's just subtle enough to tickle Dave's funny bone, but with a body like that he's got to be at least twenty.
"What, no!!" The man blushes so hard Dave can see his face darken even through the flashing lighting and dim of the dance floor. He actually honest-to-God flails his hands, what a dork. "I just -- argh, and you know that, don't you?" he finishes with an accusatory glare.
Dave gives him a faint smirk. "Maybe I do." Dave doesn't usually like them blond -- he's blond enough for two, contrast is nice -- but he does like them buff. (If he wants thin and pretty he'll usually just go for a girl, unless the guy is, like, hella pretty.) He nods toward the guy's white T-shirt, stuck to his abs with a large splash of probably someone's drink. "Nice ink."
( Read more... )
Anonymous asked: Dave/Naruto, hooking up at a house party (papabrostrider is to blame for this one)
dear lord why does it work.
840 words.
--
It's not like it's rare at his gigs for someone to sidle up to the booth and go, "Hey! Nice music!", grinning and interested.
"If you're hitting on me, queue's on your left," Dave replies, and then he looks.
The man has nice arms. Solid shoulders, strong biceps. Baby face still, baby-blue eyes in the white strobe lights and friendly dimples. Someone got him with funny cat-whiskers paint that's just subtle enough to tickle Dave's funny bone, but with a body like that he's got to be at least twenty.
"What, no!!" The man blushes so hard Dave can see his face darken even through the flashing lighting and dim of the dance floor. He actually honest-to-God flails his hands, what a dork. "I just -- argh, and you know that, don't you?" he finishes with an accusatory glare.
Dave gives him a faint smirk. "Maybe I do." Dave doesn't usually like them blond -- he's blond enough for two, contrast is nice -- but he does like them buff. (If he wants thin and pretty he'll usually just go for a girl, unless the guy is, like, hella pretty.) He nods toward the guy's white T-shirt, stuck to his abs with a large splash of probably someone's drink. "Nice ink."
( Read more... )