A short Slimav I wrote in like a day. I’m digging my Burt’s Bees watermelon chapstick my American friend gave me (it tastes so good and smells even better!) so…some fruity lip balm on Slider’s lips it is!
“You taste good.”
Maverick blurts out as their lips part, his head slightly hazy from the heat they've shared on the crumpled sheets.
“Cannibal.” Slider gasps, poking his chest. “Always knew you’re a bloodthirsty sicko, Mav.”
“Dumbass.” Maverick says and cups Slider’s face, to which he welcomes with a small grin and a slight tilt of his head. “Not like that. I mean…”
He places a kiss on Slider’s lips. So soft and tender, plush and sweet—with a hint of berries and honey.
“That.” He mutters against Slider’s mouth,too reluctant to break the contact. “Did you eat candy or something, Sli?”
“Nah, I don’t really like sweet stuff.” Slider says and cocks his head, eyeing him with half-lidded eyes. “You know that, right?”
“Then what is it?”
“What is it what?”
“Those.” Maverick points at those damn lips, now scented like a sour candy somehow—and all the more inviting, he may add. “You taste like strawberries.”
“Oh,” Slider blinks a few times before continuing. “Oh yeah, must be that chapstick.”
Slider fishes the nightstand and hands him a small stick of lip balm.
Strawberries.
Citrullus lanatus seed oil, or whatever’s listed on the packaging that smells like a refreshing yet sweet candy on Slider’s thin lips.
“Feels nice, huh? So smooth.” Slider smiles. “Ice gave it to me. Told me he didn’t like the smell, though.”
“Mm-hm.”
Their noses bump against each other as Maverick leans in closer.
He traces the shape of Slider’s lips, tasting the remnant of the fruity taste. It melts in his mouth like an ice cream on a sunny afternoon, the faint sweetness of honey and cream disappearing before he can put his finger on.
“I can get you one if you want.” Slider murmurs, his breath short and hot against Maverick’s lips. “I think I’ve got—ah.”
Slider lets out a content sigh when Maverick lightly sucks his lips, ravishing them with a tinge of pain. He knows Slider likes it when he nibbles at the tender flesh. He knows Slider likes to be gently claimed.
“I’m digging this.” Maverick grins. “You taste good, Ronnie.”
“Wacko.”
“You like it.”
A soft gasp escapes from Maverick’s lips as Slider pecks his cheek, marking his skin with a berry-flavored kiss.
