FIC: Supplication (drabble)
Nov. 17th, 2011 01:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zaubraFandoms: UK Politics
Title: Supplication
Ship(s): John Bercow/Chris Bryant
Word Count: 100
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Drabble, prompted by these three words: Nipples, Bryant, tease. Can also be found here at the meme.
Disclaimer: This is a creative work of fiction, composed of fictional characters inspired by the public personas of living people. No injury or disrespect is intended to the persons named. If you've found this by googling yourself or someone you know, stop playing on the Internet and go run the country.
Supplication
“Look at you,” John says. He rests a hand on Chris’s hipbone, dips his head to scrape his teeth across one of Chris’s nipples.
Chris gasps, a harsh sound in the closeness of the bedroom. His body tenses under John, straining to move, but whether that movement would be towards John’s teeth or away, John isn’t sure.
The ties binding Chris’s wrists stretch, but hold; the headboard creaks.
John smiles against Chris’s chest, digging his fingers into Chris’s hip, and returns his mouth to Chris’s nipple.
“Please,” Chris grits out.
John bites, soothes, teases, and listens to his lover moan.
~//~
Title: Supplication
Ship(s): John Bercow/Chris Bryant
Word Count: 100
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Drabble, prompted by these three words: Nipples, Bryant, tease. Can also be found here at the meme.
Disclaimer: This is a creative work of fiction, composed of fictional characters inspired by the public personas of living people. No injury or disrespect is intended to the persons named. If you've found this by googling yourself or someone you know, stop playing on the Internet and go run the country.
Supplication
“Look at you,” John says. He rests a hand on Chris’s hipbone, dips his head to scrape his teeth across one of Chris’s nipples.
Chris gasps, a harsh sound in the closeness of the bedroom. His body tenses under John, straining to move, but whether that movement would be towards John’s teeth or away, John isn’t sure.
The ties binding Chris’s wrists stretch, but hold; the headboard creaks.
John smiles against Chris’s chest, digging his fingers into Chris’s hip, and returns his mouth to Chris’s nipple.
“Please,” Chris grits out.
John bites, soothes, teases, and listens to his lover moan.
~//~
