my muse has the runs
Apr. 28th, 2003 08:44 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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ds_flashfictionIs there a limit to the number of posts per person per challenge? Another 3am visit from the RM.
“Close your eyes and don’t move.”
He did as he was told, feeling a warm breath brush against his face, followed by a gentle pressure first on one eyelid then the other.
“Okay, now look up. Now look down. There ya go.”
He stared at his reflection, dark rims making his eyes larger and greener than he’d ever seen them. An arm reached round him, scrabbling through the collection of girlie-pink lipsticks.
“No way am I wearing lipstick!”
“You can’t go to this place looking like an altar boy.” Ray had slipped in through the front door, glammed up, holding two fake id’s so new they were still warm from the laminator. Now he held up a tube of red lipstick so dark Ma would have a fit if she caught Frannie wearing it. Surrendering with a theatrical shrug, he turned round and felt another warm breath against his face, but this time he breathed it in and held it in his lungs while Ray applied the lipstick.
“Do this,” Ray said, rolling his lips. He copied the motion. A thumb reached up, removing a smear from the corner of his mouth and leaving behind a tingle.
He was mesmerised by the reflection pouting back at him from Frannie’s mirror – dark-ringed eyes, dark red lips, short hair that somehow Ray had made stand up in spikes. He looked cool. He felt cool. His companion’s reflection was staring at him with a weirdly intense gaze that made him shiver. He suddenly felt hot.
Later in the club he was talking to some chick, his arm round her, totally in the groove like he did this every Saturday night. He was cool. Glancing up he say Ray dancing with Stella, looking like he had a red rash the same cherry red as Stella’s lipstick. She was looking up at him, but Ray was staring across the crowded dance floor, staring at him with that same look. All of a sudden he was hot.
Next morning after barely any sleep he stumbled blearily into his robes, hoping he could get through Mass without dropping anything. Kneeling beside the altar with Johnny Campese as cover, he surreptitiously rubbed his eyes and his hand came away with black smudges on it. Although he couldn’t see him, he knew Ray was sitting there in the pews, knew it because he could feel that look. In the cool stillness of the church he felt hot.
*******
(TeenRays used without permission, or consent, or ... )
“Close your eyes and don’t move.”
He did as he was told, feeling a warm breath brush against his face, followed by a gentle pressure first on one eyelid then the other.
“Okay, now look up. Now look down. There ya go.”
He stared at his reflection, dark rims making his eyes larger and greener than he’d ever seen them. An arm reached round him, scrabbling through the collection of girlie-pink lipsticks.
“No way am I wearing lipstick!”
“You can’t go to this place looking like an altar boy.” Ray had slipped in through the front door, glammed up, holding two fake id’s so new they were still warm from the laminator. Now he held up a tube of red lipstick so dark Ma would have a fit if she caught Frannie wearing it. Surrendering with a theatrical shrug, he turned round and felt another warm breath against his face, but this time he breathed it in and held it in his lungs while Ray applied the lipstick.
“Do this,” Ray said, rolling his lips. He copied the motion. A thumb reached up, removing a smear from the corner of his mouth and leaving behind a tingle.
He was mesmerised by the reflection pouting back at him from Frannie’s mirror – dark-ringed eyes, dark red lips, short hair that somehow Ray had made stand up in spikes. He looked cool. He felt cool. His companion’s reflection was staring at him with a weirdly intense gaze that made him shiver. He suddenly felt hot.
Later in the club he was talking to some chick, his arm round her, totally in the groove like he did this every Saturday night. He was cool. Glancing up he say Ray dancing with Stella, looking like he had a red rash the same cherry red as Stella’s lipstick. She was looking up at him, but Ray was staring across the crowded dance floor, staring at him with that same look. All of a sudden he was hot.
Next morning after barely any sleep he stumbled blearily into his robes, hoping he could get through Mass without dropping anything. Kneeling beside the altar with Johnny Campese as cover, he surreptitiously rubbed his eyes and his hand came away with black smudges on it. Although he couldn’t see him, he knew Ray was sitting there in the pews, knew it because he could feel that look. In the cool stillness of the church he felt hot.
*******
(TeenRays used without permission, or consent, or ... )
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Date: 2003-04-27 03:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-27 04:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-27 04:34 pm (UTC)The cool-hot thing was great....Vecchio'd get to feeling like he was all that and a bag of chips and then RayK'd be staring at him and he'd realize he needed dip. *g*
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Date: 2003-04-27 05:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-27 07:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-27 07:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-27 07:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-28 06:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-29 09:02 am (UTC)