a certain smell will take me

Abbott Gunn -- 22 You don't fuck with a man of God. Ironically, I don't believe anymore.

[jace-fletcher-blog]

[jace-fletcher-blog]

“And so you’re saying you don’t think I need to know?” He asked, feigning being hurt by the man’s words.

[betterthanfreud-blog]

“You’ve certainly not made any sort of case to the contrary,” Abbott grinned.

[natecormac-deactivated20171113]

“Can’t say I was there for long too. Duties and family issues.” And that was all the information he was going to give. “But there is one thing that makes all British rather hot. Their accent. Massive turn on, especially when they are screaming a guy’s name. But enough about fantasies. I’m wearing a tight speedo and as much of a gorgeous sight it would be for everyone else to see me with a hard-on, I would like to keep some degree of mystery even if the fabric is almost a see through. Do you work here?”

[betterthanfreud-blog]

“Ooh, very mysterious,” Abbott said with a gentle twinkle of his fingers. “Are you saying you find my voice sexy, mister? I usually ask for dinner first,” Abbott teased. “I do,” he said, nodding. “As new as the baby in the bathwater. I must admit I’m still figuring out the way this all works.”

[natecormac-deactivated20171113]

“London is actually a great town. I’ve been there before myself.” Keith’s hand pulled his glasses down to give a one look to a swimmer, enjoying the way his speedos made his ass look absolutely eatable. “Too bad it rains all the time. It would have been good to see some skin while I was there. White, full moon asses aren’t necessarily a turn-on for me but as long as they knew how to work it.”

[betterthanfreud-blog]

“Not the part I come from, mister,” Abbott said with a knowing grin. “Yes, England always rains so long as England reigns,” he said mischievously. “I do apologize on behalf of all Londoners for the lack of British asses you saw on your trip. As a collective bunch, they’re all quite something.”

[natecormac-deactivated20171113]

“Excuse me?” Keith’s eyebrows rose as he turned his head towards the voice, still enjoying the warm sun on his skin. Pool, drinks and almost naked guys were a combo the prince enjoyed more than he would care to admit. “And where do you come from?”

[betterthanfreud-blog]

“You heard me,” Abbott grinned, shifting the strangely neon-colored drink from one hand to the other and taking a sip. He gave the well-built, bare-chested man another look-over. “The dreariest corner of moist, dark, crowded ol’ London-town,” he said drolly.

[jace-fletcher-blog]

[jace-fletcher-blog]

“You got a name, kid?” He asked

[betterthanfreud-blog]

“That, sir, is certifiably classified information. On a need to know basis, if you catch my drift.”

[jace-fletcher-blog]

[jace-fletcher-blog]

“Hmm, nope that’s definitely not it”

[betterthanfreud-blog]

“Ah, silly me,” Abbott said.

[lucas-atyourservice]

Lucas felt the eyes on him and looked down at his body, wondering if his fly was down or he had something on him. Then he heard the other’s words and he chuckled. “Is that a compliment?”

[betterthanfreud-blog]

Abbott’s body heaved with an unrealized laugh. “You’re makin’ me think those stereotypes about blonds have somethin’ to them,” he said, before sticking his hand out abruptly. “I’m Abbott.”

[betterthanfreud-blog]

Abbott looked him up and down. “Hm,” he said to himself, under his tongue, like a thought he wasn’t quite willing to share. Then, out loud: “They sure don’t make them like you where I come from.”

[jace-fletcher-blog]

“Looks like there are quite a few new faces around here” he smirked at the man.

[betterthanfreud-blog]

“You must be scaring all the old ones away,” Abbott said with a leveled smirk, leaning against the wall.

[olympictimek]

Lights Out || Open

“Am I still drunk- or do the lights keep flickering…I hope I’m not still drunk.” His body stopped completely as it walked down the hall. A loud crash of thunder and a flash later, they finally went out completely. Timek almost immediately stumbled over his own feet as his hand grabbed hold of the wall. “God dammit-” He mumbled to himself as he walked along before finally getting the confidence to figure out where exactly he was- or at least where he thought he was until he crashed right into another body. “Fuck-…well…I think I either broke your face, or you broke mine- you okay?” He asked reaching out towards whoever he’d crashed into, trying to adjust his eyes.

[betterthanfreud-blog]

Abbott had always loved storms. When he was younger, when his parents’ influence over him still stretched tautly over him like a skin, he had thought thunderstorms were ineffable proof of God. What else in this world could make such sounds, such lights? But as his thoughts went the way of all flesh, his appreciation of rain and darkened skies only expanded. He lived his life in pursuit of art; here was nature, making art of her own. So it felt almost prophetic, almost too perfect, that his first night at the Haus would be drenched and rumbling. Though he had not even yet made it to his room before the lights went out, he couldn’t help but smile. It was a dark and stormy----- Oh fuck. Something (somebody? Who knew) crashed right into him, sending him stumbling backwards into the wall. “I think I’m alright,” he said dryly, wishing he could see the man who had smacked into him. His searching hands found another set of hands. “Are you?”

[egendomlig]

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