A cold beer flies out of the bucket and into Dean's hand. The top pops off and cold vapor rises from the mouth of the bottle.
Dean rolls his eyes, about to make a particularly cutting comment, but then his arm lifts, bringing the beer to his mouth. His lips, part, full and luscious, settling around the mouth of the bottle. Dean's eyes go wide. He tries to speak but only succeeds in mumbling weirdly into the bottleneck.
"Suck it," Zach hisses. "Suck it hard."
Dean lifts his head, exposing his long perfect neck to Zach's greedy gaze, and gulps the beer down. When he's done, his freedom to move returns, and quickly he drops the bottle. It rolls to Zach's feet like an obedient little dog.
"What the hell--" Dean sputters, then stops, eyes widening as another beer floats in front of him.
Zachariah licks his lips, a trail of something suspiciously precomeuous-like (only with glitter) left behind the path of his tongue. "You want more, don't you?" he whispers.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2009-09-21 04:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-22 12:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-22 01:18 am (UTC)"Take the beer, Dean. Drink it."
"What's with the bucket of beer?"
"It's for you." Zach's voice is low.
"I don't WANT the damn beer--"
A cold beer flies out of the bucket and into Dean's hand. The top pops off and cold vapor rises from the mouth of the bottle.
Dean rolls his eyes, about to make a particularly cutting comment, but then his arm lifts, bringing the beer to his mouth. His lips, part, full and luscious, settling around the mouth of the bottle. Dean's eyes go wide. He tries to speak but only succeeds in mumbling weirdly into the bottleneck.
"Suck it," Zach hisses. "Suck it hard."
Dean lifts his head, exposing his long perfect neck to Zach's greedy gaze, and gulps the beer down. When he's done, his freedom to move returns, and quickly he drops the bottle. It rolls to Zach's feet like an obedient little dog.
"What the hell--" Dean sputters, then stops, eyes widening as another beer floats in front of him.
Zachariah licks his lips, a trail of something suspiciously precomeuous-like (only with glitter) left behind the path of his tongue. "You want more, don't you?" he whispers.
Dean tries to run. He can't. Can't speak.
Can only hold out his arm and open his mouth.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-23 06:35 am (UTC)I think mostly it's disturbing, but in a good way, you know?
no subject
Date: 2009-09-23 11:22 am (UTC)