In like Flynn
Note: An extreme piece of silliness that was done to relieve the horrendous load of shite that is my job at the moment!
"What the..." Jim's mouth gaped open at the sight of his roommate and lover Blair Sandburg standing in the middle of the cleared floor of the loft, brandishing what looked like a sixteenth century duelling foil. The ornate handle curved around his hand and a loose, billowing sleeve fell away to reveal strong wrists.
Jim started drooling in earnest as he took in the tight black pants and thigh boots and the white shirt gaping open to show a bare chest with nipple ring glinting in the afternoon light. Blair obviously hadn't spotted him yet, because he was concentrating on getting the fencing stance perfect. Jim could have told him that any more perfect and he'd be in a heap at his feet, but he was too busy admiring the view. The leather soles of the boots slid across the wooden floor and Jim whimpered as the movement flexed the strong thigh muscles of legs that had been wrapped around him only a few hours ago.
He cleared his throat and Blair swung around, his loose curls bouncing wildly about his shoulders.
"Ah ha! An intruder!" Blair lunged forward, the sword coming to rest at the base of Jim's throat. It was a testament to their relationship that the older man didn't even flinch, just slowly allowed his jacket to slip off his shoulders and drop on the floor behind him. Blair obviously wanted to be the one in control this time.
"Nothing to say for yourself, cur? Your presence here indicates you have accepted my challenge; what is your weapon of choice, pistols or sword?" he flicked the swordtip at a button on Jim's shirt and it bounced across the floor. Jim's hearbeat sped up as another three buttons were despatched the same way and his shirt gaped open. A sly smile spread across his mouth and his shirt was shrugged off to float to the floor. Using one hand to move the sword to the side, the other went to the button on his pants. Shoes were kicked off and zip lowered before he snagged his lover around the waist and pressed him against his chest.
A twist of the wrist and Jim had the sword in his hand. Hefting in so he held the handle, he jerked his arm and it was flung to hang suspended from the beam under the bedroom. It swayed there, the point buried in the wood amongst at least ten other similar holes. Jim ground his arousal against Blair's and he nuzzled his face in the soft curls.
"Why, swords of course, Captain." he murmured, and then turned the tables by flinging Blair over his shoulder and running up the stairs to the bedroom. He bounced them both on the bed and they collapsed in a fit of laughter, rolling around until Jim was on top.
"You've been watching "The Sea Hawk" again, haven't you, Chief?"
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