I am so disorganized...
Jun. 30th, 2006 06:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
yellowvalleyI am so sad about Argentina. I was pulling for them. Mainly because I think Germany just might win the tournament, and I don't know why, but I don't want them to. Italy would be ok, though. Funny, but I don't remember watching France at all during this tournament even though I must have. Huh.
We'll see what England does tomorrow. I keep hoping that maybe they are playing crappy (with smatterings of brilliance here and there, enough to win the games) just so they could surprise the world with their skillz when coming up against Germany or Italy or somethin. Hey you never know, right?
Half frozen V8 juice is very yummy. Even though it wasn't intentionally frozen. heh. Don't let your nephews put away the groceries no matter how tired you are.
Getting break pads replaced on an SUV? Is expensive as all get out. Took a big chunk out of my -maybe-go-see-EPL-Team-in-Chicago- savings. sigh.
But now the real reason for gracing you with my presence- I typed up the second peice to my long lost fic. Still untitled. I also found peice 4, but not peice 3. Yeah, I write anywhere in my notebooks. I'm just happy to find blank pages , really, that I hadn't much kept the parts of stories together. My bad. I guess I can rewrite it if I don't find it. I have a couple of other stories I can type up, too. I prolly should get a beta first tho. Cuz yeah these are rough. :)
We'll see what England does tomorrow. I keep hoping that maybe they are playing crappy (with smatterings of brilliance here and there, enough to win the games) just so they could surprise the world with their skillz when coming up against Germany or Italy or somethin. Hey you never know, right?
Half frozen V8 juice is very yummy. Even though it wasn't intentionally frozen. heh. Don't let your nephews put away the groceries no matter how tired you are.
Getting break pads replaced on an SUV? Is expensive as all get out. Took a big chunk out of my -maybe-go-see-EPL-Team-in-Chicago- savings. sigh.
But now the real reason for gracing you with my presence- I typed up the second peice to my long lost fic. Still untitled. I also found peice 4, but not peice 3. Yeah, I write anywhere in my notebooks. I'm just happy to find blank pages , really, that I hadn't much kept the parts of stories together. My bad. I guess I can rewrite it if I don't find it. I have a couple of other stories I can type up, too. I prolly should get a beta first tho. Cuz yeah these are rough. :)
Eye contact between two people can be several things. Amused. Angry. Intimate. The word Frank would use for John and he at this moment would be smoldering.
They are in the locker room after practice. Not alone, but not really noticing. The last three stragglers are on the way out anyways. It's almost always the same. Frank and John, maybe Eidur, the last ones out. Sometimes due to massages, sometimes because they bullshit around so much getting ready. Or talking about friends and family.
John and Frank haven't been talking at all today. But they've said plenty.
Frank had caught John staring early in practice today. He had been feeling a little tightness through the calf muscles in his left leg and had sat out some drills to stretch it out a bit.
He wasn't showing off, really. Well, no more than usual.
He had turned his attention back to his team mates to find John's eyes fairly glued to him. They had flicked up to Franks' face, and for once Frank looks right back.
Everything, every sound, every other person, fades slowly, as they both seem to acknowledge this feeling, attraction, they have felt growing between them for months. Frank smirks
as John's cheeks and neck seem to tint slightly red, but John boldly follows the contours of Frank's body with his eyes like he's seeing it for the first time. Eventually, they settle on
Frank's hands, which are mindlessly massaging the calf muscles of his left leg.
For Frank, the air seems heavier than before. Thicker. Maybe that's why any sounds are coming through hushed, like they are coming from a great distance. Funny enough, he swears he can hear John's breathing. He knows he's in wide open space, can hear his team mates and the coaching staff. Knows all it would take would be for someone to look their way at the wrong time. That thought makes his breathing quicken and groin tighten, and makes him want to do something that much more.
Noticing that his Captain's attention is still on his hands, he decides to play a game. He slowly moves both hands down his lower left leg, fingers pushing deep into the tissue while following the individual muscles. He notices John is now completely still, not fidgeting like he normally does with bound up energy, but completely focused on the movements of Frank's long fingers. John licks his lips and Frank wonders what John's tongue would feel like following the contours of muscles up his calf, behind the knee, up the thigh....
Remembering this show was to be for John's benefit, Frank decides to kick it up a notch, and spreads his left leg out to the left of him while bending the right behind him, giving John an unobstructed view of his inner thighs. The muscles their are stretched taught, visibly straining under the skin.
John's sharp intake of breath can be heard through the distance between them.
Frank would grin at John's reaction, but he never realized that this little tease would turn him on as much as it's target. He had wanted to show his power over John. That because John had been the one caught staring at his team mate, showing his desire first, that Frank would be able to control him. But that power was heading straight for his awakening cock, throwing him off balance.
He watches as John's eyes move from where his hands are still moving on his calf, up past his knee to his thigh, where the shorts meet thigh. They linger there for a moment, before snapping up to Frank's face. He raises an eyebrow in clear challenge.
Frank's a little perturbed, because he was supposed to be director of this show, damnit, but decides he was moving forward in a second anyways and slowly moves his hands up past his knee to the bottom of his thigh. His fingertips are merey caressing now, slow circles from the outer thigh to the top then the inner thigh, inching ever so slowly upward. By the time his fingers hit the barrier of cloth, John is obviously breathing fast, through his mouth. Eyes are focused on those fingers touching the hem, waiting.
Still using the pretense of self-massage, Frank slowly uses his fingertips to move the fabric up, exposing more and more deliciously beefy thigh. Frank is buzzing from his display, excited by how much John is reacting to such a simple ploy. His mind starts drifting about how John will react when they touch each other for the first time; How it will feel for John's fingers to be running up his thigh instead of his own.
The world comes into sharp focus for him again when he sees Glen Johnson coming up behind John, completely oblivious to the atmosphere he just ruined. Quickly looking back at John, he realizes John is still lost. Frank smirks, and suddenly shifts his hand enough to slip underneath the leg of his shorts, almost all the way up the thigh. Right at the same moment Glen's outstretch hand lands on John's shoulder.
As Frank laughs, John jumps up and spins around, squeaking out a "fucking hell" while turning to face Glen. As Glen looks on curiously, the Captain's face and neck turn a shade red. He turns to Frank, who just shrugs his shoulders and stands, a self satisfied grin on his face.
Glen, obviously deciding he's better of not asking, just points to the middle of the pitch and tells them the team is ready for group play. He stares a bit more at John, who goes one more shade red, then walks off. John mutters a "you could have warned me" to Frank before following, with a laughing Frank bringing up the rear.
The rest of the practice, they had avoided coming into any physical contact with each other, both afraid they wouldn't be able stop from doing something indecent to the other and try to pass it off as part of the game. When they turn in to shower and get ready to go home, Frank heads right in while John hangs out with the lads outside, waiting for Frank to come out of the shower before he goes in for his, much to Frank's amusement.
Frank bumbles through his bag, trying to act busy, while he waits for John to finish showering. He gets a few weird looks, but the others file out as the minutes tick by. When John comes out from the shower, Frank tries not to stare too much as John drops the towel and pulls on shorts and jeans, since their are two of the lads left. He really, really, want them to leave. The looks he and John are trading have gotten him half hard, and he wants to touch now. Well, to touch John. And from the fire in his eyes, John's feeling the same way. Just to be sure, when the other two lads leave, he follows them to the door, and watches them leave the car park.
When he returns to the locker room, John is facing away from him, quickly putting items in his bag for transport home. He still has his shirt off, and Frank takes a second to appreciate the well muscled back. John has always exuded strength, but never more so than when you can see the muscles moving liquidly smooth beneath the skin.
As he approaches, John turns to face him. Frank immediately puts his hand in the center of John's chest, and nearly breathes a sigh of relief. Finally. Touch.
John is silent but his eyes are blazing as Frank pushes him against the wall. Frank smoothes his hands over his chest, staring at it in fascination. John brings his arms up to Franks arms, but Frank grabs them, puts them back down to his side, and John leaves them there. It's his turn to feel and touch right now. John will get his chance later. Franks' hands return to Johns' chest, and he runs his thumb over the right nipple, then the left, then repeats the action. John's breath hitches, and Frank smiles. Using only his fingertips, he follows the muscle definition down the center of Johns' chest, then off to the sides, where John shivers from the light touch.
Frank hooks his thumbs into Johns' jeans, and moves so very close, but not quite touching. He stares at Johns' lips, then looks into his eyes. He sees excitement, and impatience, and pure need. So much fucking need and it thrills Frank to know he caused that.
The impatience wins out for John, and he moves his head towards Frank slightly, ready to make his own contact, but Frank pulls back and shakes his head. John's eyebrows come together in confusion, and he presses his lips together in frustration. He wants to touch, too, damnit!
The left hand moves from Johns' hip to the front of his jeans, and Frank smiles when he feels how hard John already is. He moves his thumb slowly back and forth over the hardness, tracing John's cock. Moving his hips forward for more contact, John smacks his head against the wall, but doesn't seem to feel it. His hands are flexing with the need to grab - Frank's not sure what he wants to grab more, Frank or his own cock.
A door slams somewhere down the hallway and they are forced to move away from each other quickly as a grounds custodian passes by. It's all John can do to turn his back and try to collect his breathing. When the coast is clear once again, he comes up behind John and grabs him about the waist. He pulls their bodies in flush to each other, and quickly licks between John's shoulder blades. He pulls his hips up to Johns' ass, letting him feel how hard he is.
"Come round my house, yeah?" And Frank is very happy his voice comes out normal.
John doesn't seem to have a voice anymore, and manages a quick nod.
Frank releases him and watches as John pulls on his shirt and finishes gathering his things. They walk out silently together, heading for their separate cars quickly. They meet each other's eyes over the tops before they get in.
And John grins.
They are in the locker room after practice. Not alone, but not really noticing. The last three stragglers are on the way out anyways. It's almost always the same. Frank and John, maybe Eidur, the last ones out. Sometimes due to massages, sometimes because they bullshit around so much getting ready. Or talking about friends and family.
John and Frank haven't been talking at all today. But they've said plenty.
Frank had caught John staring early in practice today. He had been feeling a little tightness through the calf muscles in his left leg and had sat out some drills to stretch it out a bit.
He wasn't showing off, really. Well, no more than usual.
He had turned his attention back to his team mates to find John's eyes fairly glued to him. They had flicked up to Franks' face, and for once Frank looks right back.
Everything, every sound, every other person, fades slowly, as they both seem to acknowledge this feeling, attraction, they have felt growing between them for months. Frank smirks
as John's cheeks and neck seem to tint slightly red, but John boldly follows the contours of Frank's body with his eyes like he's seeing it for the first time. Eventually, they settle on
Frank's hands, which are mindlessly massaging the calf muscles of his left leg.
For Frank, the air seems heavier than before. Thicker. Maybe that's why any sounds are coming through hushed, like they are coming from a great distance. Funny enough, he swears he can hear John's breathing. He knows he's in wide open space, can hear his team mates and the coaching staff. Knows all it would take would be for someone to look their way at the wrong time. That thought makes his breathing quicken and groin tighten, and makes him want to do something that much more.
Noticing that his Captain's attention is still on his hands, he decides to play a game. He slowly moves both hands down his lower left leg, fingers pushing deep into the tissue while following the individual muscles. He notices John is now completely still, not fidgeting like he normally does with bound up energy, but completely focused on the movements of Frank's long fingers. John licks his lips and Frank wonders what John's tongue would feel like following the contours of muscles up his calf, behind the knee, up the thigh....
Remembering this show was to be for John's benefit, Frank decides to kick it up a notch, and spreads his left leg out to the left of him while bending the right behind him, giving John an unobstructed view of his inner thighs. The muscles their are stretched taught, visibly straining under the skin.
John's sharp intake of breath can be heard through the distance between them.
Frank would grin at John's reaction, but he never realized that this little tease would turn him on as much as it's target. He had wanted to show his power over John. That because John had been the one caught staring at his team mate, showing his desire first, that Frank would be able to control him. But that power was heading straight for his awakening cock, throwing him off balance.
He watches as John's eyes move from where his hands are still moving on his calf, up past his knee to his thigh, where the shorts meet thigh. They linger there for a moment, before snapping up to Frank's face. He raises an eyebrow in clear challenge.
Frank's a little perturbed, because he was supposed to be director of this show, damnit, but decides he was moving forward in a second anyways and slowly moves his hands up past his knee to the bottom of his thigh. His fingertips are merey caressing now, slow circles from the outer thigh to the top then the inner thigh, inching ever so slowly upward. By the time his fingers hit the barrier of cloth, John is obviously breathing fast, through his mouth. Eyes are focused on those fingers touching the hem, waiting.
Still using the pretense of self-massage, Frank slowly uses his fingertips to move the fabric up, exposing more and more deliciously beefy thigh. Frank is buzzing from his display, excited by how much John is reacting to such a simple ploy. His mind starts drifting about how John will react when they touch each other for the first time; How it will feel for John's fingers to be running up his thigh instead of his own.
The world comes into sharp focus for him again when he sees Glen Johnson coming up behind John, completely oblivious to the atmosphere he just ruined. Quickly looking back at John, he realizes John is still lost. Frank smirks, and suddenly shifts his hand enough to slip underneath the leg of his shorts, almost all the way up the thigh. Right at the same moment Glen's outstretch hand lands on John's shoulder.
As Frank laughs, John jumps up and spins around, squeaking out a "fucking hell" while turning to face Glen. As Glen looks on curiously, the Captain's face and neck turn a shade red. He turns to Frank, who just shrugs his shoulders and stands, a self satisfied grin on his face.
Glen, obviously deciding he's better of not asking, just points to the middle of the pitch and tells them the team is ready for group play. He stares a bit more at John, who goes one more shade red, then walks off. John mutters a "you could have warned me" to Frank before following, with a laughing Frank bringing up the rear.
The rest of the practice, they had avoided coming into any physical contact with each other, both afraid they wouldn't be able stop from doing something indecent to the other and try to pass it off as part of the game. When they turn in to shower and get ready to go home, Frank heads right in while John hangs out with the lads outside, waiting for Frank to come out of the shower before he goes in for his, much to Frank's amusement.
Frank bumbles through his bag, trying to act busy, while he waits for John to finish showering. He gets a few weird looks, but the others file out as the minutes tick by. When John comes out from the shower, Frank tries not to stare too much as John drops the towel and pulls on shorts and jeans, since their are two of the lads left. He really, really, want them to leave. The looks he and John are trading have gotten him half hard, and he wants to touch now. Well, to touch John. And from the fire in his eyes, John's feeling the same way. Just to be sure, when the other two lads leave, he follows them to the door, and watches them leave the car park.
When he returns to the locker room, John is facing away from him, quickly putting items in his bag for transport home. He still has his shirt off, and Frank takes a second to appreciate the well muscled back. John has always exuded strength, but never more so than when you can see the muscles moving liquidly smooth beneath the skin.
As he approaches, John turns to face him. Frank immediately puts his hand in the center of John's chest, and nearly breathes a sigh of relief. Finally. Touch.
John is silent but his eyes are blazing as Frank pushes him against the wall. Frank smoothes his hands over his chest, staring at it in fascination. John brings his arms up to Franks arms, but Frank grabs them, puts them back down to his side, and John leaves them there. It's his turn to feel and touch right now. John will get his chance later. Franks' hands return to Johns' chest, and he runs his thumb over the right nipple, then the left, then repeats the action. John's breath hitches, and Frank smiles. Using only his fingertips, he follows the muscle definition down the center of Johns' chest, then off to the sides, where John shivers from the light touch.
Frank hooks his thumbs into Johns' jeans, and moves so very close, but not quite touching. He stares at Johns' lips, then looks into his eyes. He sees excitement, and impatience, and pure need. So much fucking need and it thrills Frank to know he caused that.
The impatience wins out for John, and he moves his head towards Frank slightly, ready to make his own contact, but Frank pulls back and shakes his head. John's eyebrows come together in confusion, and he presses his lips together in frustration. He wants to touch, too, damnit!
The left hand moves from Johns' hip to the front of his jeans, and Frank smiles when he feels how hard John already is. He moves his thumb slowly back and forth over the hardness, tracing John's cock. Moving his hips forward for more contact, John smacks his head against the wall, but doesn't seem to feel it. His hands are flexing with the need to grab - Frank's not sure what he wants to grab more, Frank or his own cock.
A door slams somewhere down the hallway and they are forced to move away from each other quickly as a grounds custodian passes by. It's all John can do to turn his back and try to collect his breathing. When the coast is clear once again, he comes up behind John and grabs him about the waist. He pulls their bodies in flush to each other, and quickly licks between John's shoulder blades. He pulls his hips up to Johns' ass, letting him feel how hard he is.
"Come round my house, yeah?" And Frank is very happy his voice comes out normal.
John doesn't seem to have a voice anymore, and manages a quick nod.
Frank releases him and watches as John pulls on his shirt and finishes gathering his things. They walk out silently together, heading for their separate cars quickly. They meet each other's eyes over the tops before they get in.
And John grins.
