dirty birdy thoughts about @dillopidated
blah blah budget. blah blah audit. travis is trying to listen, really. but it's so, incredibly boring. he can feel his eyes starting to droop. math has never really been one of his best skills. and this. well, it feels like a riddle more than a math problem.
the director stretches his legs and repositions himself. their thighs touch and dillon stops talking. was that a blush? travis tries to catch his eye and fails. he leans in more so their thighs are flush against each other. the avian sinner a squints down at the paper. "go on." he says to the armadillo.
dillon's blush deepens. "um..."
travis cracks a sly grin. he props his elbow on the table and leans in further. eyebrows knitted, he looks down at the stack of papers then angles his head to look into dillon's eyes. "maybe we should go back to my place so i can audit your assets." their faces are inches apart. travis counts himself lucky. his dark feathers conceal the light blush spreading across his cheeks.
the table squeaks and rattles under their weight. buttons fly off collared shirts while their mouths slot together hungrily. travis arches his hips to press himself bodily against the other. the feeling of something hard pressing against his leg starts a fire in his belly. god he can't wait to have that nerdy twink squirming beneath him...
"hello?" dillon's voice breaks the heat of the moment.
huh? what? what the fucks he mean hello- holy shit!
travis blinks twice. he looks at dillon and at the stack of papers. "uh sorry." he smiles sheepishly. the smallest shine of a blush can be seen through his plumage. "i was- um... distracted."