darktrent182 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
darktrent182) wrote2005-07-07 01:41 pm
darktrent182) wrote2005-07-07 01:41 pm
DRABBLE: On the Surface [Numb3rs]
TITLE: On the Surface
DISCLAIMER: These characters don't belong to me. I borrowed them, and I'm not making any money off of this.
FANDOM: Numb3rs
PAIRING: Larry/Charlie
RATING: Suggestive sexual content, but nothing extremely explicit.
WARNINGS: Slash. Duh.
WORD COUNT: 100
NOTES: Lifted the challenge itself from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
numb3rs100, even though I'm not a part of the community itself. This was more to be an inaugural post to numb3rs_slash, since I want to jump in.
Larry Fleinhardt was an absent-minded geek. A professor to the nth degree, he looked like he’d rather be reading about physics theories, hopelessly asexual to the extreme. He wore dorky shirts. His hands unconsciously waved and danced around his face in a futile attempt to literally illustrate his point. He also had a terrible memory.
Charlie prided himself on knowing better.
Behind closed doors, dorky shirts were unbuttoned, pulled off, dropped on the floor. Excited hand gestures slowed to soft, knowing touches. His whisper in his lover's ear was like smooth, dark, chocolate, just the way Charlie liked it.
Perfect.
DISCLAIMER: These characters don't belong to me. I borrowed them, and I'm not making any money off of this.
FANDOM: Numb3rs
PAIRING: Larry/Charlie
RATING: Suggestive sexual content, but nothing extremely explicit.
WARNINGS: Slash. Duh.
WORD COUNT: 100
NOTES: Lifted the challenge itself from
numb3rs100, even though I'm not a part of the community itself. This was more to be an inaugural post to numb3rs_slash, since I want to jump in.Larry Fleinhardt was an absent-minded geek. A professor to the nth degree, he looked like he’d rather be reading about physics theories, hopelessly asexual to the extreme. He wore dorky shirts. His hands unconsciously waved and danced around his face in a futile attempt to literally illustrate his point. He also had a terrible memory.
Charlie prided himself on knowing better.
Behind closed doors, dorky shirts were unbuttoned, pulled off, dropped on the floor. Excited hand gestures slowed to soft, knowing touches. His whisper in his lover's ear was like smooth, dark, chocolate, just the way Charlie liked it.
Perfect.
no subject
You should drabble more often!
I love it. :)
no subject
^_^