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"Excellent," Benton spoke softly in his characteristic low tone tone of voice, his eyes slowly wandering up from the newspaper in his hands to rest easily on his beloved Erroll, and a sly grin parted his lips there after. "According to the paper, it seems as though the kidnapped woman was... never found...

"That means I won the bet." His grin expanded. "Now, where's my promised prize?"

#random gif #i dont even know lol #roll wit it #itsallinthescript

My Model for the Evening

The desire had swept over him from seemingly nowhere. One moment he had been rounding the corner, eyes fixed down amongst the floor, and the next he was remaining stationary by the bookcase, watching his beloved as the German went about closing the curtains to the windows surrounding the patio door. He was clad in seemingly nothing but his fleece robe, and as he stepped to the side, Benton's eyes greedily consumed the man, the darker hued orbs wandering down his body, taking in each and every wrinkle of the burgundy garment, the way the fabric hung from his body and swayed lightly with each of his own, lithe movements. But as the moments ticked on, he was looking past the bunches of fabric and drooping loops, and rather he focused on the body beneath, his eyes honing in on the soft curve of muscle, the bend of bone, all while his mind filled in what was missing, what else he wished to see.

His eyes roamed away from Erroll then, and they dropped down to the coffee table in front of the couch before they focused on the abandoned camera that sat on its surface. Gently, Benton tilted his head to the side, brown orbs remaining glued to the contraption, and suddenly, the ravenette could not even remember what he had been on his way to go do within the apartment in the first place. All Benton wanted now was to further appreciate Erroll's body, all while utilizing this specific tool to do so...

Slowly his eyes roamed upward, and they locked with the depth of pale ice just as the body they belonged to had come to a halt in the middle of the room, blonde brows creased with bewilderment and, Benton knew, slight concern. However, Benton remained collected, and rather than immediately diving into an explanation to Erroll's unspoken yet obvious question, he merely placed one foot in front of the other and leaned away from the wall.

Benton sauntered his way closer, and he bowed his head slightly, eyes breaking their focus for a moment to glance to the camera again before they were bouncing back up to his lover. A greedy air came about Benton again, and his left eye narrowed into a slit that nearly matched the other from behind his thick lenses. A grin stretched and parted his lips just as he had approached him, and Benton allowed for it to expose his teeth as he came to a gentle stop in front of Erroll, but only long enough for him to remove his glasses. Once he had folded the frames and hung one of the temples from the collar of his shirt, he carefully stepped around Erroll, pushing up the long sleeves of his tight, white shirt as he did so. He reached out only when Erroll had begun to turn, but as soon as he placed his hands around Erroll's upper arms, he squeezed on them slightly, stilling the German, keeping him from turning around as Benton moved to linger behind him.

Benton could hear the smile in Erroll's tone, feel it in his very demeanor, and oh, just the mere thought caused Benton's own grin to expand wickedly. His heart pounded within his chest, sending waves of dizzying electric to bite at the base of his neck and flow down the curve of his spine, where it settled and tickled at his lower back. It seemed like so long ago, this sensation only helped Benton shy away from his lover-- it was too strong, too new. But Benton had learned to control it, he had learned to rise above it, and now, he used this overpowering sensation to his advantage. He welcomed it.

A deep, chuckled sigh escaped the director then, his lips remaining curled, and rather then stepping closer to his Erroll, he tugged on his arms, gently, yet forcibly bringing him back closer to himself. His lover complied with ease, just as Benton knew he would, and unable to hold himself back any longer, mangled hands and crooked fingers began their travels. His right hand wandered down his arm, fingernails scratching at the flesh from on top of the fabric, before he settled his hand on Erroll's hip, his fingers slowly curling back, applying pressure to the area, before his arm began to snake completely around his waist. Upon discovering the split to the robe in the front, Benton did not hesitate to wander his hand through the part, and at the sensation of Erroll's cool, clean flesh beneath his touch, Benton sighed, his strong arm finally coming to a standstill to hold Erroll firmly in place against him.

Meanwhile, his left hand had wandered to Erroll's shoulder, and he wasted no time with sinking his fingers under the collar of the robe to carefully tug it downward. The lose fabric complied with ease, and with one, final pull the entirety of Erroll's shoulder had become exposed. Benton eyed the area hungrily, though a spell of timidness had washed over him, not because he felt shy, but because he felt unsure of what to do-- how he was supposed to admire this work of art to the fullest, how he was supposed to express to Erroll how truly gorgeous he was, how the German had absolutely nothing to be afraid about. If Benton had only been granted the gift of merely looking at Erroll, then surely, he knew, he would have spent the rest of his days admiring from afar, absent of touch, of smell, of sound. All Benton could have ever asked for was to enjoy at least one of the senses when it came to this beautiful creature, and even still, he was not sure how he came to be so lucky enough as to enjoy all five, every single day.

The pads of his fingers trailed over the exposed flesh, traveling down his collar bone before swooping back to tickle over the curve of his shoulder, and Benton could not resist leaning in closer, just as he had finally found his voice.

“Hasn't anyone ever told you...?” Benton breathed against Erroll's flesh, and he could not hold back from inhaling. His eyes came to a close as a soft groan escaped him, and he allowed for the fresh scent of Erroll's soaps to take him away. Dampened curls brushed against Benton's own head as his fingertips moved further down his arm, and his right hand curled further around the blonde's hip, his thumb brushing lightly over the bone.

“You've got a face-- and a body... fit for... photography...” Benton puckered his lips against Erroll's shoulder, and he left a series of gentle kisses that trailed over the dip between his shoulder and neck, and he stopped only when he had reached his ear. He nuzzled in there, his grin parting his lips once more, and he dug his fingers into Erroll's hip before he moved them around in small circles, his left hand having since then wandered over Erroll's, and he curled his fingers around Erroll's own.

“...and I want to photograph you...” Benton placed one, final kiss against Erroll's neck, directly behind his ear, and he leaned forward slightly then to rest his chin against Erroll's shoulder, and he cocked his head to the side to gain a better view of his lover's face.

“What do you say, Erroll?” He beckoned lowly. “Will you be my... model for the evening?”

#itsallinthescript