An unfamiliar jolt of heat ran up from Walter’s knee directly to his groin, almost as if the other man possessed some sort of power over pleasure. The engineer sucked in a breath, instinctively holding it under the touch of the other.
"…Ya think so?" chuckled Walter a bit nervously, moving just a smidgeon closer to Silas as he leaned in. "I uh…I know yer a man, but…mama raised me an’ my brothers to always ask first. No matter."
His eyes flitted downwards as he felt the other man tug at the towel around his waist, pulling it away. The worker had almost forgotten he still had his undergarments on, but frankly…he was getting eager to take them off. Almost as if he were reading his mind, he heard Silas say “Whatever makes ya comfortable, sugar…”
…And before Walter could answer, Silas gently and tenderly pressed his lips to his. Just a little startled at first, Morley sat rigid, unsure of what to do. In no time though, his growing lust took the wheel and he found himself kissing back with vigor. One of his hands came up to rest on Silas’ hip, leaning back a little on the bed as he did. Still rather new to romance as a whole, he kissed back softly and timidly, trying to learn from the other.
When Silas broke Walter sat suspended, his eyes closed, their lips still very close.
"Heavens above…" whispered the engineer to himself. His eyes snapped open at the other gentleman’s last comment…
As their first kiss broke, Silas stifled an earnest giggle at Walter’s excitement. The wader had the enthusiasm of a goddamn puppy, and Cobb would’ve been lying had he claimed it didn’t warm his heart. That lingering gaiety, however, vanished soon as those boxers were off and tossed aside. The disciple’s eyes went instantly wide in salacious delight as he drank in the sight of Walter Morley, utterly and gloriously nude.
"Well I’ll be damned," his mouth pulled into a helpless smirk, "that’s just fine, baby.”
(I have a whole bunch more of those kiss memes to do across all my accounts, but I’m off to a show in NYC. I’ll get to ‘em all before bed, though. Still, I apologize for the wait!)
Nothing soothed Silas the way Walter did. There was just something about that man—the way he’d peer bashfully from across the room, a timid grin plastered on his unforgettable face. The way he smelled, and the way that warm, musky scent clung to Cobb’s sheets every morning. God, the way his work-worn hands felt against the disciple’s bare skin, calloused and careful fingers pressing every single button he had on him. Any and all of it made the guitarist weak in the knees, and stole the stress of each day right off his aching shoulders.
Naturally, after a particularly hellish shift down at Rapture Records, Walter was the first comfort Silas sought out. To his delight, the mechanic was happy to oblige him with a long, tender kiss—one with promise of more to come. Sighing contently, Cobb’s gangling arms found their way around Morley’s waist to pull him forward, the space between their bodies nearly closed. They lingered together a while, gently kissing and cupping cheeks, hearts aflutter in a giddy whirl still novel to the neglected disciple. He was smiling before he could help it. Then again, so was Walter.
"Welcome home, Si."
The guitarist fondly brushed his knuckles over the length of the other’s cheek.
It was a spur of the moment thing, really. There they were, standing side by side in spotlight they’d only ever dreamed of sharing. It’d been a stroke of pure luck to nab their one night engagement at the El Dorado Lounge, and now, their humble audience was roaring on its feet for them. Silas beamed as he placed a hand to the small of Sandy’s back, his guitar nudged to his hip as they took their first and second bows.
Before the third, he felt her arm slip around his shoulders, gently maneuvering him to face her. Her million dollar smile grew impossibly wide as she leaned forward, surprising him with a brief peck of bright red lips to his cheek. Cobb’s flushed face burned all the more, matching her grin as he suddenly and thoughtlessly scooped her up. The redhead gasped as she floated a foot above the stage, all at once wrapped in the southerner’s sturdy arms. In his euphoric rush, Silas then pressed her into a rough, excited kiss—one she surprisingly returned. Giggling and giddy, the pair smiled against each other as they drank in their fifteen minutes of fame, indifferent then to those looking on.
The crowd continued to cheer.
A Cobb & Morley Fanmix ||
Tunes from Now & Then
1. Old Fashioned Love—Lonnie Johnson || 2. Do Wrong Right—The Devil Makes Three || 3. Sure as Hell Not Jesus—Cosmo Jarvis || 4. Kiss Me—Ed Sheeran || 5. Get Thee Behind Me Satan—Ella Fitzgerald || 6. No God—The Dear Hunter || 7. You’re My Thrill—Billie Holiday || 8. I’m Confessin’ (That I Love You)—Django Reinhardt & Stephane Grappelli || 9. Stuck On You—Elvis Presley || 10. I Found You—The Alabama Shakes || 11. Satan is My Motor—Cake || 12. It’s Growing—Otis Redding
Wowza. First Silas, now Hec. Guys, I really can’t thank you enough for all this love. It means so much that people enjoy what I do here on this account, and it’s my pleasure to work with all of you. That said, this giveaway is gonna run the same exact way my last one did. In case you missed it, here’s the original post. As before, this will be a graphics/audio giveaway, as I am a poor excuse for an artist.Prizes:
- One studio recording. So yeah, I can’t draw. But, I do have a studio at my disposal to record voice/instrumentals. That being the case, I will happily record a song for you! It can be a song that applies to our characters’ relationship, your character alone, or just a song you like! We can work it out privately, and with your permission, I’ll post it publicly once its properly mixed! || Examples [x] [x]
- A personalized fanmix. Again, it can be for our characters together, or yours alone. || Examples [x] [x] [x] [x]
- One graphic of your choice. It can be anything—a banner, icon, sidebar, blend, manip, poster, etc. The only thing I can’t make are gifs. But, your graphic can be of anything that you want! Doesn’t even have to be BioShock related (thought that’s kinda my forte). It can also involve multiple characters, or apply to pairings/ships/etc. || Examples [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]
- A personalized fanmix.[See above]
- One graphic of your choice. [See above]
- One graphic of your choice. [See above]Rules:
- As this is a followers giveaway, you have to be following me. I’d also ask that you don’t follow just for the sake of the giveaway. I mean, I’d love to RP with a whole bunch of new people. If you find me through this little spiel, then hey, let’s thread sometime!
- My apologies, but this particular giveaway is exclusive to RP blogs only. However, you don’t have to exclusively be a BioShock RP blog.
- Just one like and reblog per account please! There’s no need to clutter the dash.
- Please keep all this text in your reblog. That way, if someone reblogs it from you, there’s no confusion.
- Giveaway winners will be picked at random on Saturday March 15th, probably just after midnight EST. I ask that the winners be a little bit patient, as I’m juggling school, music, and of course, RP :D
Alrighty, that’s it! Good luck guys, and thank you all so much! Again!
To The Silliest Girl In Rapture || A Modern Mix for Diane McClintock
1. Lovefool—The Cardigans || 2. Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)—Nico Vega || 3. Me & the Minibar—The Dresden Dolls || 4. Cold Blooded—The Pretty Reckless || 5. From Yesterday—Thirty Seconds To Mars || 6. A Rancid Romance—Diablo Swing Orchestra || 7. Megalomania—Muse || 8. Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps—Cake || 9. #1 Crush—Garbage || 10. Wake Up Alone—Amy Winehouse || 11. Bei Mir Bist Du Schon (Dub)—Waldeck
Arthur had been instructed to find a new hobby. His mother had insisted and insisted that he could no longer stay cooped up in the apartment reading book after book. Something fresh, she had said, would be a nice change. If he could no longer read daily in his sedentary fashion, then he chose the next best option: music.
A more classically defined taste, Arthur mustered up the will to tear himself from his favorite novel to head on the down to the record store in the plaza. Initially, he had thumbed threw cover after cover, but none of them screamed ‘Arthur Lloyd’. Sighing, he held one up to examine it for a closer second before frowning and placing it back neatly.
He shook his head in initial disappointment. Perhaps he could find a musically inclined sort to teach him to play his own, though he would have never had a clue where to look. He had heard of Sander Cohen and his genius, but the man put a right fear in Arthur. Artists and scientists did not always mesh well. Arthur thought too logically, he felt, and artists were solely based in emotional output. At least, that was how he saw it.
Placing his hands in his pockets, he prepared to leave with no purchase and almost wholly unsatisfied.
“Alright, Mr. Cohen. Yes, I heard ya just fine.”
Silas huffed loudly from behind the shoppe counter, a telephone receiver tucked neatly into his bony shoulder. The disciple gave a blatant roll of his eyes as his mentor babbled on the other end of the line, two long fingers idly tangled in the phone’s knotted chord. Boy did Sander like to talk himself blue, especially over matters that proved downright trivial. Today it was something about a press release in Market Square over Cohen’s latest production—some comedy he’d called "Happy Chappy". More, the artist had taken it upon himself to pester his “favorite disciple” during business hours over what to wear to the hoity-toity occasion.
"I know. Right. Christ, Sander, I know. Sweet cricket, this ain’t mah first big tuh-do.”
The southerner stifled an exasperated sigh as his bored gaze wandered around the store. It’d been slow business for a weekend, not that he cared too much. Minding just a few straggling patrons made his 9 to 5 a touch more tolerable, and allotted him a little bit of sorely needed leisure. Yet, as Silas scanned the faces of what few customers he had, one in particular sent his brow up. Cobb immediately recognized the low look he was wearing. It read dissatisfaction, and worse, discontinuation of patronage. In turn, Silas was caught somewhere between reluctance and relief—reluctance towards the managerial task of pushing sales, and relief towards the perfect excuse to hang up the goddamn phone.
"Uh, Mr. Cohen?" he cut the artist off in mid-phrase, "I gotta run. Y’know, business tuh’ attend to."
He tried not to smile as he abruptly set the receiver down, just before calling out to the young man about to leave his store.
"Say wait a minute. S’there somethin’ I can help you with?"
Julie flinches, the action unexpected. Shaking hands wring themselves out as she offers a slight smile. The music immediately comforts her and she feels her tense body relaxing instantaneously.
Normally she’d snap out a shrewd remark about how she can handle herself, but upon feeling the music fill her head, she can’t bring it upon herself to do it.
"Thank you," she clears her throat in an attempt to speak up. It’s difficult. It scratches like sandpaper. "I didn’t want to scratch it."
The corners of Silas’ mouth initially tugged down into a faint frown. He couldn’t help pitying her right off the bat, despite his distaste for the practice. Had the roles been reversed, he would’ve proudly spat in the face of commiseration. But, her gratitude was undoubtedly genuine as he set the vinyl down. And, despite his aching head, he managed to return the fractional smile as Billie Holiday’s soft, soulful crooning filled his shoppe.
"Well I appreciate it," he lightly patted her shoulder, taking silent note of the strain in her voice, "most folks don’t care if they make a real mess a’ mah records."
His hand fell away before the gesture had chance to lose its innocence.
"S’there anythin’ else I can help ya with?"