Fic, Snowbound, Lester/Lyle, 15
Mar. 13th, 2014 08:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fredbassettTitle : Snowbound
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 15
Characters : Lester/Lyle
Disclaimer : Not mine (except Lyle), no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Word Count: 2,391
Summary : It’s snowing, and Lester and Lyle need to spend the night in the car.
A/N : Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
knitekat for fandom stocking.
Lester felt the back wheels of the car drift unpleasantly across the snow-covered road.
With a muttered curse of impressive biological improbability, Lyle steered skilfully into the skid and managed to regain control before the Mercedes ended up in either the ditch on the left hand side of the road or the hedge on their right.
“We should have stayed over with the Jacobsons,” Lester said, staring out of the window at the snow now driving almost horizontally at the windscreen.
“I’d have been up on a murder rap if we had, sweetums. Those bloody kids of theirs were getting right up my nose and their bloody parents were no better.”
“The perils of having to brown-nose members of the cabinet,” Lester said, noting that it was no doubt a measure of Lyle concern over the driving conditions that he’d fallen back on something as simple as ‘sweetums’ rather than anything more creative. “Is it too late to turn back?”
“Yes, there’s no bloody way we’ll get back up that last hill. If this gets much worse I’m going to find somewhere to pull off and we’ll just have to sit it out.”
Lester nodded, even though Lyle’s eyes were fixed on the road ahead. “That’s fine. Don’t take any risks, Jon, it’s not worth it. There are blankets in the boot.”
Lyle shot him a quick smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t. I know there’ll be tears before bedtime if I scratch the Merc.”
“I can do British stiff upper lip with the best of them, my little swamp rat.”
The wheels drifted again and Lyle barely managed to retain control.
“Fuck this for a game of soldiers, I can’t see a buggering thing. Can you remember how far away we are from that picnic area where we stopped for a slash?”
“I’m not sure, it’s deceptive at these speeds.” Lester stared out of the window, hoping to recognise some sort of landmark in the now almost featureless snowscape around them.
They’d stopped about half an hour before arriving at Eric Jacobson’s country home as the thought of arriving badly busting for a pee hadn’t held much appeal. A deserted picnic area on one edge of a pine forest had provided a much-needed opportunity to relieve over-full bladders.
Lester could just make out the edge of the tree line on the other side of the ditch, as well as a low, broken-down stone wall. The area had looked very different in the watery winter sunlight of that morning. Now, the landscape seemed forbidding and dangerous. Lyle was a remarkably competent driver but it was clear that the current situation was rapidly becoming untenable. Lester was already starting to feel quite disorientated by the driving snow, and the windscreen wipers, even on their fastest setting, were now fighting a losing battle.
Lester switched his attention to scanning the line of dark trees on his left, looking for any break that might indicate that they were approaching the entrance to the car park.
A moment later, his hopes soared. “Jon! The entrance is there, I’m sure of it.”
“Thank fuck for that,” Lyle muttered. “Let’s hope we can make the turn without thumping the entrance.”
Lester could just make out the metal posts and crossbar that prevented the car park being used as an overnight stop for caravans and motor homes. The car slid sideways as Lyle slowed for the turn and for a moment Lester thought they were going to drift right into one of the posts, but then he regained control and was able to pull off the road onto the freshly fallen snow in the car park. The wheels crunched over the snow, but they were just able to make forward progress. Slowly and carefully, Lyle drove the car in a wide circle so that they were facing directly towards the entrance. Once he’d finished manoeuvring, he cut the engine and let out a sigh of relief.
“Well, we’re not getting out of here until this lot improves, but at least we’re off that fucking road. I was dreading some twat in a Chelsea tractor turning up and piling into us.” Lyle pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket and checked the signal strength. “Might get a text through if we’re lucky. I’ll message Ryan. If push comes to shove, he can come and fetch us tomorrow, providing the whole fucking country hasn’t ground to a halt by then.” Lyle quickly tapped in a message and pressed send. “OK, sugarpuff, what have we got that’s useful?”
For the sake of keeping up appearances, Lester arched on eyebrow. “Sugarpuff?”
“Sugarpuff,” Lyle repeated. “So, what have we got?”
“Two fleece blankets and a snow shovel in the boot. A flashlight, red warning triangle, first aid kit, high vis jacket, breathalyser kit...”
Lyle grinned. “So we’re fully equipped for a jaunt to France. Apart from that…?”
“Several packets of mints, a couple of bars of chocolate and a bottle of water that’ll be frozen in no time. I’ve got an overcoat and your fleece is in the back.”
“Could be worse,” Lyle said. “Provided I can keep the area around the exhaust clear, we can run the engine if things get too cold. But if we do, we need to make bloody sure one of us stays awake, so I’d prefer not to unless it gets really grim. I’ll get the stuff out of the boot. While I’m doing that, get the seats moved forward to give us as much room as possible in the back. It’s compulsory cuddle time, snowflake!”
Snowflake was a considerable improvement on sugarpuff, so Lester would just have to be grateful for small mercies.
A cold blast of air cut through the warmth inside the car, even though Lyle closed it behind him as quickly as he could. Lester did as he’d been instructed, then pulled his overcoat on and braved the cold to quickly transfer to the back seat, making sure the flashlight was easily accessible on the front seat. In a matter of minutes, Lyle put the snow shovel in the front foot well and then scrambled in next to him in the back, passing the blankets to Lester and pulling on his own fleece.
Then, as Lyle had said, it was compulsory cuddle time.
* * * * *
Snow soon covered the windscreen of the snowbound Mercedes. Lyle’s phone had just buzzed with a message from Ryan saying he’d do his best to get a Range Rover out to them the following morning, but for now, they were on their own.
Lyle wasn’t particularly concerned. He’d been in far worse spots than stuck in the snow in the middle of the English countryside. But he was buggered if he was going to make some sort of trek through the snow in an attempt to find a house. They were both sensibly dressed, but outside the car the wind was fast whipping up a white-out and the snow showed no sign of abating, so it simply wasn’t worse the risk. More people died from getting caught in deep drifts – or being hit by out of control vehicles on the roads – than did from staying put. As long as you didn’t inadvertently gas yourself with exhaust fumes, there was little risk involved. They were both reasonably dressed and had the blankets, so he was sure they be fine. Just a bit chilly.
With a bit of wriggling around, they managed to get comfortable on the back seat, Lyle sitting sideways with Lester settled between his legs, his back pressed against Lyle’s chest, which was the best position they could contrive for sharing body heat. The fleece blankets were large and reasonably cosy and were doing a good job of trapping the warmth. They’d both taken the precaution of having a pee and running the heater long enough to get the car to a reasonable temperature before settling down, so with any luck, they’d be good for several hours without needing to move.
The nice thing about their current position was that it gave him easy access to the back of Lester’s neck and his ears, both areas where his lover was exceptionally sensitive, so Lyle knew it wouldn’t be hard to provide a distraction from their current predicament.
He tightened his arms around Lester and asked quietly, “OK?”
“Just peachy,” Lester murmured. “Sorry we’ve ended up like this, Jon. I know you didn’t really want to spend an evening with my work contacts…”
Lyle gently nipped Lester’s ear. “Forget it, James.” The use of Lester’s first name signified that Lyle wasn’t joking. “It goes with the territory. You get dragged to the wives and girlfriends do’s. The least I can do is put I an appearance and try to entertain the ghastly off-spring of whatever minister is responsible for us. And he might be a bit of a pompous arse, but at least he’s on the straight and narrow, which is more than we can say for his predecessor.”
He teased with his tongue at the hollow behind Lester’s right earlobe and was rewarded by a shiver that had absolutely nothing to do with the snow drifting on top of the car.
When Lester didn’t object, Lyle continued to explore the sensitive skin around his ear, licking and nipping gently until it became obvious that Lester had just needed to adjust the position of a burgeoning erection. Satisfied that progress was being made, Lyle turned his attention to the other ear.
“Don’t want your extremities getting cold, honey-bun.”
“I’m wearing cashmere socks and a pair of very expensive silk lined driving gloves, pookie, there’s probably not much danger of that quite yet.” Lester’s voiced hitched slightly as Lyle started sucking his earlobe, then he added, “Your nose is cold.”
Lyle promptly pressed his nose to the back of Lester’s neck, inhaling the citrus scent of his shampoo. “My hands are cold too.”
Before Lester could object, he deftly undid his belt, unzipped his flies and burrowed one hand inside. Lester’s slight yelp was muffled by the blanket but Lyle noted that his erection showed no signs of being diminished by the sudden contact with Lyle’s cold fingers. He wrapped his cold hand around Lester’s cock and started to stroke.
“Is this technique written down somewhere in the SAS survival manual, possum?” Lester enquired, squirming slightly, thereby increasing the pressure on Lyle’s own rapidly-hardening dick.
“Certainly is. Right after the bit where you find a large dead animal and climb inside its stomach.”
“I think you’ll find that was Star Wars.”
Lyle continued the slow movement of his fingers up and down Lester’s cock. “I thought you told Connor that you’d never seen Star Wars and didn’t want to?”
Lester pulled the blanket up around his face and murmured, “I hate to shatter your illusions, my precious, but I have to break it to you that I sometimes tell lies.”
Lyle chuckled and nipped the back of Lester’s neck. “Oh god, do you mean the cheque’s not in the post and that you might come in my mouth?”
“Not right now, I won’t, but yes, I do believe you are at risk from the latter.”
“Have I ever told you that I once tasted my own, before I sucked you off for the first time?”
Lester’s cock twitched in his hand. “I didn’t realise you were that flexible.”
“I’m not.” Lyle knew that for a fact. He was convinced most men had tried that trick at least once. “Ditzy says the average bloke would need to lose at least one vertebrae or grow an extra few inches. But it doesn’t stop Finn trying.”
“Ever the optimist.” Lester hesitated a moment and then asked, “Did you really?”
Lyle laughed, his warm breath raising the hairs on the back of Lester’s neck. “Course I did. I’d sooner have yours, though.”
It seemed that talking dirty was having the desired effect. Lester started to thrust into Lyle’s fist and, with a quiet sigh of pleasure, he came. Lyle held him tightly through the tremors of orgasm, then wriggled his hand free and wiped it on a corner of the fleece blanket.
“What about you, Jon?”
Lyle nuzzled his lover’s ear. “I’m fine. That one was for you. You need to get some sleep. I’ll wake you up if it gets too cold, so go to sleep, James. Ryan will get us out of here when it gets light. I promise you, my thumbs aren’t even slightly itchy, so we’ll be fine”
Lester’s response was muffled by the blanket, but it sounded like agreement. He kept his arms wrapped around Lester. Their body heat trapped by the fleece blankets would be sufficient for quite a while. Lyle knew that his lover would manage to get some sleep now, while he dropped into the state of half-wakefulness that had served him well in many a difficult situation when he needed rest, but full sleep was inadvisable.
* * * * *
The snow stopped somewhere around 3am and the wind died down to nothing more than a light breeze. Three hours later, the sun started to rise, bringing with it a gradual rise in the temperature. They drank some water, ate a couple of energy bars and very rapidly got bored with a game of I Spy. Things beginning with S didn’t get them very far.
It took another couple of hours for them to get released from the snow-bound car park, during which Ryan helpfully kept them updated by text. By dint of claiming there was a national emergency that needed averting, Claudia managed to misappropriate a snow plough and its driver (much to Finn’s disappointment, as he’d been hoping to add it to his tally of vehicles he’d been able to drive without any instruction), and get the nearby road unblocked.
And, as Lyle cheerfully remarked as they drove out onto the road, they hadn’t even got as far as the ‘killing each other for something to eat’ stage of their relationship, so all round, it counted as a win.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 15
Characters : Lester/Lyle
Disclaimer : Not mine (except Lyle), no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Word Count: 2,391
Summary : It’s snowing, and Lester and Lyle need to spend the night in the car.
A/N : Written for
knitekat for fandom stocking.Lester felt the back wheels of the car drift unpleasantly across the snow-covered road.
With a muttered curse of impressive biological improbability, Lyle steered skilfully into the skid and managed to regain control before the Mercedes ended up in either the ditch on the left hand side of the road or the hedge on their right.
“We should have stayed over with the Jacobsons,” Lester said, staring out of the window at the snow now driving almost horizontally at the windscreen.
“I’d have been up on a murder rap if we had, sweetums. Those bloody kids of theirs were getting right up my nose and their bloody parents were no better.”
“The perils of having to brown-nose members of the cabinet,” Lester said, noting that it was no doubt a measure of Lyle concern over the driving conditions that he’d fallen back on something as simple as ‘sweetums’ rather than anything more creative. “Is it too late to turn back?”
“Yes, there’s no bloody way we’ll get back up that last hill. If this gets much worse I’m going to find somewhere to pull off and we’ll just have to sit it out.”
Lester nodded, even though Lyle’s eyes were fixed on the road ahead. “That’s fine. Don’t take any risks, Jon, it’s not worth it. There are blankets in the boot.”
Lyle shot him a quick smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t. I know there’ll be tears before bedtime if I scratch the Merc.”
“I can do British stiff upper lip with the best of them, my little swamp rat.”
The wheels drifted again and Lyle barely managed to retain control.
“Fuck this for a game of soldiers, I can’t see a buggering thing. Can you remember how far away we are from that picnic area where we stopped for a slash?”
“I’m not sure, it’s deceptive at these speeds.” Lester stared out of the window, hoping to recognise some sort of landmark in the now almost featureless snowscape around them.
They’d stopped about half an hour before arriving at Eric Jacobson’s country home as the thought of arriving badly busting for a pee hadn’t held much appeal. A deserted picnic area on one edge of a pine forest had provided a much-needed opportunity to relieve over-full bladders.
Lester could just make out the edge of the tree line on the other side of the ditch, as well as a low, broken-down stone wall. The area had looked very different in the watery winter sunlight of that morning. Now, the landscape seemed forbidding and dangerous. Lyle was a remarkably competent driver but it was clear that the current situation was rapidly becoming untenable. Lester was already starting to feel quite disorientated by the driving snow, and the windscreen wipers, even on their fastest setting, were now fighting a losing battle.
Lester switched his attention to scanning the line of dark trees on his left, looking for any break that might indicate that they were approaching the entrance to the car park.
A moment later, his hopes soared. “Jon! The entrance is there, I’m sure of it.”
“Thank fuck for that,” Lyle muttered. “Let’s hope we can make the turn without thumping the entrance.”
Lester could just make out the metal posts and crossbar that prevented the car park being used as an overnight stop for caravans and motor homes. The car slid sideways as Lyle slowed for the turn and for a moment Lester thought they were going to drift right into one of the posts, but then he regained control and was able to pull off the road onto the freshly fallen snow in the car park. The wheels crunched over the snow, but they were just able to make forward progress. Slowly and carefully, Lyle drove the car in a wide circle so that they were facing directly towards the entrance. Once he’d finished manoeuvring, he cut the engine and let out a sigh of relief.
“Well, we’re not getting out of here until this lot improves, but at least we’re off that fucking road. I was dreading some twat in a Chelsea tractor turning up and piling into us.” Lyle pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket and checked the signal strength. “Might get a text through if we’re lucky. I’ll message Ryan. If push comes to shove, he can come and fetch us tomorrow, providing the whole fucking country hasn’t ground to a halt by then.” Lyle quickly tapped in a message and pressed send. “OK, sugarpuff, what have we got that’s useful?”
For the sake of keeping up appearances, Lester arched on eyebrow. “Sugarpuff?”
“Sugarpuff,” Lyle repeated. “So, what have we got?”
“Two fleece blankets and a snow shovel in the boot. A flashlight, red warning triangle, first aid kit, high vis jacket, breathalyser kit...”
Lyle grinned. “So we’re fully equipped for a jaunt to France. Apart from that…?”
“Several packets of mints, a couple of bars of chocolate and a bottle of water that’ll be frozen in no time. I’ve got an overcoat and your fleece is in the back.”
“Could be worse,” Lyle said. “Provided I can keep the area around the exhaust clear, we can run the engine if things get too cold. But if we do, we need to make bloody sure one of us stays awake, so I’d prefer not to unless it gets really grim. I’ll get the stuff out of the boot. While I’m doing that, get the seats moved forward to give us as much room as possible in the back. It’s compulsory cuddle time, snowflake!”
Snowflake was a considerable improvement on sugarpuff, so Lester would just have to be grateful for small mercies.
A cold blast of air cut through the warmth inside the car, even though Lyle closed it behind him as quickly as he could. Lester did as he’d been instructed, then pulled his overcoat on and braved the cold to quickly transfer to the back seat, making sure the flashlight was easily accessible on the front seat. In a matter of minutes, Lyle put the snow shovel in the front foot well and then scrambled in next to him in the back, passing the blankets to Lester and pulling on his own fleece.
Then, as Lyle had said, it was compulsory cuddle time.
* * * * *
Snow soon covered the windscreen of the snowbound Mercedes. Lyle’s phone had just buzzed with a message from Ryan saying he’d do his best to get a Range Rover out to them the following morning, but for now, they were on their own.
Lyle wasn’t particularly concerned. He’d been in far worse spots than stuck in the snow in the middle of the English countryside. But he was buggered if he was going to make some sort of trek through the snow in an attempt to find a house. They were both sensibly dressed, but outside the car the wind was fast whipping up a white-out and the snow showed no sign of abating, so it simply wasn’t worse the risk. More people died from getting caught in deep drifts – or being hit by out of control vehicles on the roads – than did from staying put. As long as you didn’t inadvertently gas yourself with exhaust fumes, there was little risk involved. They were both reasonably dressed and had the blankets, so he was sure they be fine. Just a bit chilly.
With a bit of wriggling around, they managed to get comfortable on the back seat, Lyle sitting sideways with Lester settled between his legs, his back pressed against Lyle’s chest, which was the best position they could contrive for sharing body heat. The fleece blankets were large and reasonably cosy and were doing a good job of trapping the warmth. They’d both taken the precaution of having a pee and running the heater long enough to get the car to a reasonable temperature before settling down, so with any luck, they’d be good for several hours without needing to move.
The nice thing about their current position was that it gave him easy access to the back of Lester’s neck and his ears, both areas where his lover was exceptionally sensitive, so Lyle knew it wouldn’t be hard to provide a distraction from their current predicament.
He tightened his arms around Lester and asked quietly, “OK?”
“Just peachy,” Lester murmured. “Sorry we’ve ended up like this, Jon. I know you didn’t really want to spend an evening with my work contacts…”
Lyle gently nipped Lester’s ear. “Forget it, James.” The use of Lester’s first name signified that Lyle wasn’t joking. “It goes with the territory. You get dragged to the wives and girlfriends do’s. The least I can do is put I an appearance and try to entertain the ghastly off-spring of whatever minister is responsible for us. And he might be a bit of a pompous arse, but at least he’s on the straight and narrow, which is more than we can say for his predecessor.”
He teased with his tongue at the hollow behind Lester’s right earlobe and was rewarded by a shiver that had absolutely nothing to do with the snow drifting on top of the car.
When Lester didn’t object, Lyle continued to explore the sensitive skin around his ear, licking and nipping gently until it became obvious that Lester had just needed to adjust the position of a burgeoning erection. Satisfied that progress was being made, Lyle turned his attention to the other ear.
“Don’t want your extremities getting cold, honey-bun.”
“I’m wearing cashmere socks and a pair of very expensive silk lined driving gloves, pookie, there’s probably not much danger of that quite yet.” Lester’s voiced hitched slightly as Lyle started sucking his earlobe, then he added, “Your nose is cold.”
Lyle promptly pressed his nose to the back of Lester’s neck, inhaling the citrus scent of his shampoo. “My hands are cold too.”
Before Lester could object, he deftly undid his belt, unzipped his flies and burrowed one hand inside. Lester’s slight yelp was muffled by the blanket but Lyle noted that his erection showed no signs of being diminished by the sudden contact with Lyle’s cold fingers. He wrapped his cold hand around Lester’s cock and started to stroke.
“Is this technique written down somewhere in the SAS survival manual, possum?” Lester enquired, squirming slightly, thereby increasing the pressure on Lyle’s own rapidly-hardening dick.
“Certainly is. Right after the bit where you find a large dead animal and climb inside its stomach.”
“I think you’ll find that was Star Wars.”
Lyle continued the slow movement of his fingers up and down Lester’s cock. “I thought you told Connor that you’d never seen Star Wars and didn’t want to?”
Lester pulled the blanket up around his face and murmured, “I hate to shatter your illusions, my precious, but I have to break it to you that I sometimes tell lies.”
Lyle chuckled and nipped the back of Lester’s neck. “Oh god, do you mean the cheque’s not in the post and that you might come in my mouth?”
“Not right now, I won’t, but yes, I do believe you are at risk from the latter.”
“Have I ever told you that I once tasted my own, before I sucked you off for the first time?”
Lester’s cock twitched in his hand. “I didn’t realise you were that flexible.”
“I’m not.” Lyle knew that for a fact. He was convinced most men had tried that trick at least once. “Ditzy says the average bloke would need to lose at least one vertebrae or grow an extra few inches. But it doesn’t stop Finn trying.”
“Ever the optimist.” Lester hesitated a moment and then asked, “Did you really?”
Lyle laughed, his warm breath raising the hairs on the back of Lester’s neck. “Course I did. I’d sooner have yours, though.”
It seemed that talking dirty was having the desired effect. Lester started to thrust into Lyle’s fist and, with a quiet sigh of pleasure, he came. Lyle held him tightly through the tremors of orgasm, then wriggled his hand free and wiped it on a corner of the fleece blanket.
“What about you, Jon?”
Lyle nuzzled his lover’s ear. “I’m fine. That one was for you. You need to get some sleep. I’ll wake you up if it gets too cold, so go to sleep, James. Ryan will get us out of here when it gets light. I promise you, my thumbs aren’t even slightly itchy, so we’ll be fine”
Lester’s response was muffled by the blanket, but it sounded like agreement. He kept his arms wrapped around Lester. Their body heat trapped by the fleece blankets would be sufficient for quite a while. Lyle knew that his lover would manage to get some sleep now, while he dropped into the state of half-wakefulness that had served him well in many a difficult situation when he needed rest, but full sleep was inadvisable.
* * * * *
The snow stopped somewhere around 3am and the wind died down to nothing more than a light breeze. Three hours later, the sun started to rise, bringing with it a gradual rise in the temperature. They drank some water, ate a couple of energy bars and very rapidly got bored with a game of I Spy. Things beginning with S didn’t get them very far.
It took another couple of hours for them to get released from the snow-bound car park, during which Ryan helpfully kept them updated by text. By dint of claiming there was a national emergency that needed averting, Claudia managed to misappropriate a snow plough and its driver (much to Finn’s disappointment, as he’d been hoping to add it to his tally of vehicles he’d been able to drive without any instruction), and get the nearby road unblocked.
And, as Lyle cheerfully remarked as they drove out onto the road, they hadn’t even got as far as the ‘killing each other for something to eat’ stage of their relationship, so all round, it counted as a win.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2014-03-13 09:45 pm (UTC)*purrs* Lovely to re-read this.
no subject
Date: 2014-03-15 03:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-15 07:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-13 11:31 pm (UTC)I now have a silly smile on my face! The fic is lovely - pet names, pragmatism, fleecy blankets, some smut and poor old Finn missing out on driving a snow plough ...
no subject
Date: 2014-03-15 03:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-14 12:01 am (UTC)LMAO. That was a perfect description.
Loved the banter, the hot snuggling, and Finn's masterful driving abilities!
I'm so glad you invented Lester/Lyle!
no subject
Date: 2014-03-15 03:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-14 04:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-15 03:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-14 06:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-15 03:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-14 08:16 pm (UTC)Yay for Finn as well!
no subject
Date: 2014-03-15 03:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-15 11:27 am (UTC)Lester could just make out the metal posts and crossbar that prevented the car park being used as an overnight stop for caravans and motor homes.
Bastards!! LOL.
no subject
Date: 2014-03-15 03:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-17 10:03 pm (UTC)Oh, Finn! ^_^
That was great, hot and funny as usual. These two are so much fun together, I will get never tired of them. Absolutely loved it!
no subject
Date: 2014-03-23 06:39 pm (UTC)