Two: My muse will get down on their knees for your muse
Cobb woke early that morning with Sebastian tangled around him, locked in the same position he’d dozed off in after a long night in a formerly lonely bed. Hardly stirring, the southerner was quick to find himself caught in place against the mattress—and happily so. The arm he’d slipped around the violinist’s waist had long since gone limp, too, leaving the tips of his fingers numb as they drew small circles into the small of Sebastian’s back. In turn, Seb’s slid up to hook into the southerner’s collar, tugging at it lightly while he dove deeper into a dream. There was contrasting peace to the previous night’s heated chaos, even as the gasps and moans still echoed clearly in Silas’ head. His skin pricked into goose bumps at the recent memory, despite it being stolen away by the insolent clang of his alarm clock. Promptly switching it off, Silas indulged himself by lingering in bed just a few extra minutes, if only for the selfish pleasure of running a hand through his slumbering lover’s hair. Sebastian slept on peacefully in spite of Cobb’s gentle attention, and so the disciple reluctantly tore himself away to tend to his store and coffee machine.
Naturally, it scarcely took long after departing from those warm, receiving sheets for Sebastian to invade his thoughts again. In fact, every time the disciple blinked, the violinist appeared behind his eyelids—at least in short, vivid flashes. His sharp smile, his crystal eyes, the delicate curves of his stomach and hips—Sebastian lingered tauntingly with Silas throughout his morning behind the shop’s counter, forcing the poor southerner’s words to stumble, his heart to race, and fingers to twitch. Business was hard, to say the very least. Waiting, however, was vastly harder.
At quarter past three, Cobb wasn’t capable of it any longer.
Most familiar with the southerner’s work ethic understood his distaste for “breaks”. Especially long ones. Even more, it was near unheard of for Silas toleave the plaza and “lunch at home”, more commonly employing his Rapture Records office as both a kitchen and dining room. But, in light of more recent and handsome “changes” in his life, Silas moved to hire a proper few employees to handle his beloved store in his absence—an absence he’d begun to take regularly at leisure. Or, more fittingly, at carnal need. That afternoon denoted both prerogatives as he hurried back home, his breath literally held as he returned to the bedroom he hardly remembered leaving. Cobb then clumsily slipped of his shoes before touching his knees to the mattress, the aging springs whining as they did just hours before under his and the other’s passion.
Sebastian was where he’d been left, his face buried halfway into Cobb’s pillow. Silas, of course, couldn’t help but grin as he watched the violinist hug around it, as if to challenge the emptiness he’d left behind by leaving for work. Ever gently, the southerner leaned to touch his lips against the sleeping man’s temple, all as his hand found its way to Sebastian’s hip. It took thoughtful maneuvering, but Silas eventually rolled Sebastian to lie on his back, a hand brought up to smooth the man’s hair away from his forehead.
His lips pressed next to the other’s throat in strict silence, remaining there an indulgent while before trailing down to pepper sweet kisses along the man’s collarbone. Swiftly, the southerner navigated down past middle of his lover’s chest, his affection cautiously light to keep the man under him from waking. Yet, in spite of of his eager tenderness, Sebastian eventually gave a rousing sigh once the disciple’s teeth began to pull at the waistband of his shorts.
Sebastian fluttered his eyelashes and leaned against Cobb’s chest.
"I have no idea what you mean, dearest darling Silas."
The southerner gave a light, skeptical huff as his arm came to wrap around Sebastian’s waist. With a gentle nudge, he closed the little space between them before planting a tender peck to the violinist’s head.
"Uh huh. A’course ya don’t."
One: My muse will kiss yours on the lips
Two: My muse will get down on their knees for your muse
Three: Your muse owns mine for two days
Four: My muse submits for yours
Five: My muse dominates yours
Six: My muse gives yours a striptease
Seven: My muse trails kisses down your muses chest
Eight: Your muse owns my muse bound and gagged for one night
Nine: Our muses do the deed
Ten: Our muses hug one another
Eleven: My muse nibbles yours
Twelve: Your muse goes down on mine
Thirteen: Your muse gets a lap dance from mine
Fourteen: My muse ties up your muse
Fifteen: My muse removes one article of your muse’s clothing
Sixteen: Your muse removes one article of my muse’s clothing
Seventeen: My muse slips their hand into your muse’s pants
Eighteen: My muse buys yours a shot
Nineteen: My muse finds yours naked and tied to the bed
Twenty:My muse will tease yours (take that however you will)
Twenty-One: Your muse blindfolds mine
Twenty-Two: Our muses have sex in an unconventional place
Twenty-Three: My muse blindfolds yours
Twenty-Four: My muse fawns over your muse’s neck (biting,kissing, etc.)
Twenty-Five: Wild card! I get to pick any of the above
"Oh, I'm comfortable, Silas, m'dear..."He smirked at the favourable drawl of his young underling, fixing himself smoothly upon his chaise.
"What sort of work are we in for, I wonder.."
"Oh, ya know…"
The disciple gave a timid smirk as he sunk to his knees, his long, calloused hands sliding up to sit gently atop either of his mentor’s thighs.
"Whatever it takes tuh’ help ya relax."
Favourite saved url: I don’t have any…? I’m not even sure how URL saving works, to be honest.
The next movie you’re planning to watch: I’ve got over a dozen movies waiting for me in my Netflix queue, most of which are independent (and terrible) horror/thriller films. I also have to get “The Grinch” in at least four more times before Christmas actually gets here, and I’ve been itching to go on a Jared Leto kick. I’m suddenly obsessed with how nice that man’s face is.
The last movie you watched: In its entirety? “A Muppet Christmas Carol”.
The book you’re currently reading: I haven’t had the pleasure of reading a book for my own leisure since the school year started. Fingers crossed that I’ll have time to start Dan Wells’ The Hollow City over winter break.
Favorite female fictional character: Harleen Quinzel/Harley Quinn.
Favorite male fictional character: I have a lot from both Batman and BioShock. I suppose the favorite “favorites” are Sander Cohen and Jonathan Crane.
The number of songs on your iPod: 3034.
That one song that’s been stuck in your head all week: "The Prophet’s Song" AND "Seaside Rendezvous", both by Queen.
The fictional character you identify with most: It’ll sound horribly cliche, but Hector or Silas. It flip-flops depending on the day, though relating to ‘em seems pretty consistent.
Favorite word: ”Debacle”, “frugal” and “persnickety”.
Anonymous hollered:W̝ͣ̆̚̕E̷̡̙̹͇̗̘͎̦̎́͌̈ͦ̓́̐ͨ͘L͖̞͍̣͇̍̄ͧ̽͑̉ͅC̢̧̫͙ͬͭ͆̌̈̍ͣ͗O̻͉̤̗̔̃ͩM̶̷̰̠̲̱̟̹̬̾̓ͫ̎̈́̐̃̄Ȩ̜̪̳̱̺̤͖̓ͥͭ ̙̦̻̠͑͑͌͟͢T̰̪̱̠̹͒̊̋̾ͩ̈́͢O̴ͩͯ͐̎͒͟͏̦̻̭͖̦ͅ ̷̦̯̭̆̄ͫT̹̝̪̜̦͓̺̬ͯ͐͊̈́͂ͫ͜H̶̤̳̪̥̮̭ͧͨ͒̏ͅE̢̺͔̳̯̺ͫ̊͌͘͢ ̼͖̟̊̓ͭC̶̴̘̏̈́ͯ̿͆̂̈̔ͫ͢I͉̭̜̳͎̔̏͋ͪ̍ͮͯ̚Ṛ̨͙̥͉̝̼ͣ̀ͦ̆̈́̂͗̽ͪ͢ͅC̟̩̻̖͛ͯ̏̑ͨ̅͟Ũͥ̂̿҉҉͍̦͉͔̺͇̬͟S̖̗͖̭̱͇͖̞̒̚ ̴͔̥͊̋̊̾ͤ͆͘͞O̡͕͓͌͒̈͛̎ͫ͝ͅF̯̗̲̮̜̩ͬ͆̈̈́͑̋ͨͅ ̧̬͍̞̞ͭͯ̽͌ͧ͂ͅV̵̰̉̅̋̇͒̏ͬ͘Ą͓̻̪̣̠̟̉͌̏̈́͆͞Ḷ͓͓͍̰̯̤̊͝Ų̫̘̼̟͇ͬͨͭ͋͆̽Ě͉̕S̢̥̙̝̰̭̯̗̥̅ͪͩ́͌̿̇̌͜
(…I….I-I appreciate a lady…who appreciates v-value…?)