#para:gus

[rollercoaster-gus]

Augustus prepared himself for this. “Well, tease away.” he said. And tease he did! Gus tried not to moan as he gently sucked his index finger, sending waves of pleasure to his entire body. Even his prosthetic felt pleasure. When he finished, Gus simply responded, “What do I think?” He said before pulling the other boy in, their mouths meeting and Gus moaned to his closeness. “What do you think I thought?”

[thesammydavis]

He let his tongue roll against his finger, sucked on it gently still. Samuel's other hand moved it's way to the other guy's knee, moved up and down it slowly. Augustus had agreed to teasing, and teasing he was going to get. And seeing the other's reactions had encourage him to continue, as he picked up the other hand and did the same.

The kiss afterwards was something else though. It was the first time they had kissed in their not very long, but somehow interesting, relationship. And for a moment Samuel wanted to lean in for more, hand moved to Gus' neck as he kissed him again, keeping his hand there before let go. 

"I'd like to think you enjoyed that." he answered smiling. "I 'd like to hope it was pretty good."

[bre-booker-rp]

Coffee: Bre/Gus

Bre whirred around her dorm room, putting on tight dark jeans and a v-neck black shirt with her purple cardigan, trying to straighten up at least a little bit. The place wasn't NASTY messy, just disorganized - her side, anyway. She and Kaylie kept such separate schedules that neither of them had expressed any discontent with it to the other, but she figured it was better to try to keep tidy anyway. The knotted, purple knit blanket that she'd carried around since she was a kid was splayed out on her bed, which she quickly made to look decent, her blue ornate journal laying on her nightstand. 

Better put THAT up.

She quickly tucked it away under the bed in wooden box she kept a deck of old tarot cards in, then pushed her shoes into their caddy, closing her closet door. Her computer desk was messy but charmingly so, post-its with handwritten scribbles up everywhere, pictures and articles tacked to the corkboard she had hanging on the wall in front of said desk. Her two Hunter S. Thompson quote posters were smallish but framed, hanging on either side, and a bigger unframed band poster in the middle. 

She stopped, looking in the mirror. Her hair looked good enough considering she had smoothed it down with some gel on the fly and done little else with it, her makeup was straight (one eye did NOT look bigger than the other), and she appeared far more well-rested and put together than she actually was. Awesome. 

Well, almost awesome. She leaned forward a little bit, fixing her bra, shimmying into the cups. There. Much better. Fucking underwire.