#prettyholes

[rowdybxys-archived]

@prettyholes / Oliver & Travis

Travis sighed deeply, he was nervous, the sweating your balls off nervous. It was his first case in the force, he'd built up his reputation and finally he was allowed to handle a case all by him lonesome which really should have been a good thing, but damn Travis was fidgeting and restless like a cow being led to slaughter, if he fucked this up he'd never get a chance again, god knows they'd probably fire him on the spot for being such a useless fuck.

Thankfully he was interrupted by his own thoughts as the perp was led into the questioning room and cuffed to the desk. One thing he had to note was that the so-called criminal didn't at all look like what he had suspect, he was small and dare Travis say twinkish, not that it mattered he was sure crims came in all shapes and sizes, so with another deep sigh he opened his folder and started the process.

"So, Mr. Oliver, I'll start by introducing myself, I'm Travis I'll be your judge, jury, and executioner today... not that you'll be dying... sorry that was an awful analogy" He quickly raised his hand for a shake before realizing what he'd down and mentally smacking himself as he looked down at the others in cuffs. "We're here to talk about your boyfriend, do you at all understand the sort of business he was involved in Mr. Oliver?" he asked, training to maintain at least some professionalism.

[lxsxngeles]

( @prettyholes )

he was doing his son’s laundry, for god’s sake, so why does he feel so fucking guilty when he finds the panties in his hamper? nicholis’s first assumption is that, perhaps, his son had accidentally tossed a girlfriend’s underwear in with his, that maybe his son wasn’t actually wearing panties, but a simple sniff gave it away. nicholis knew the smell of spunk and this wasn’t the “rub one off” kind. it was “wear these all day” kind of smell, something he’d grown to recognize after years of doing his son’s laundry (and maybe a year or so of sniffing his underwear). maybe nicholis felt so god damn guilty because he was hard in his jeans and he had the used panties against his face, breathing in the smell. fuck. he stuffed the underwear into his jeans pocket, shutting the washer as he wandered out into the living room, looking for jackson. “can we talk, kiddo?”