Feb 8, 2012

WIP share XD

Every now and again, I like to share snippits of my recent WIP's, no matter what day of the week it is LOL.

Click the post title for a bit of my current angel WIP:



The gush of the shower coming from the bathroom filled the unsteady quiet. Lynsael sat perfectly still, his hands stuffed between his thighs against the unfamiliar rough jean fabric. They were scratchy, and he tried not to itch his legs, knowing he needed to get used to the humans way of life. No one ran around in the nude here, he knew that well by looking over his young children.

Within the palace in the clouds, only a few went nude as well, he remembered. Many of his fellow angels chose to wear dresses or, at least, frocks around their most private of areas. He was different; something about being pure seemed so right.

He scratched at the belt digging into his abdomen. This thing had to go, but his pants would fall to his ankles if he decided against it. Instead, he stuffed his hands back between his legs.

A mirror hung from above the dresser, and he flicked his eyes to his appearance before scanning the rest of the bedroom. Blaine kept it clean, for the most part, despite for a few pieces of clothing spread around and the corner of a Playboy peeking out from under the bed. The woman's face stared back at Lynsael, her eyes covered in the blackest makeup like the kind that Blaine wore.

The angel fiddled with the belt around his waist again, this time pulling the end of it through the first loop and then adjusting it back. He examined the brown leather, and it's shadowed creases, before unbuckling it and loosening it from his waist.

That felt better. What would feel ten times better is if he stripped right out of them and swore never to wear them again.

A clunk from the bathroom broke his attention away from his itchy skin. The light shined through a crack in the door; Blaine had left it opened to allow the steam to escape.

In curiosity, Lynsael stood and approached the door. Inside, the fleshy figure of Blaine against a light beige shower curtain made the angel pause with interest. He hovered a hand above his head, and creaked open the door.

Blaine's broad, muscled chest moved as he spread his hands out in his hair; the shower spray hissed when he tipped his soapy head under the running water. The man's flaccid cock bobbed, the silhouette framed perfectly against the only protection between them, the shower curtain. Just then, drops of hot water fell across the curtain, the steam rose into the air, fogging up Lynsael's view.

The angel, tempted with the raging hard on rubbing uncomfortably against his jeans, slid just inside the bathroom to get a better look.

A hand darted between the tiled wall and the curtain to grab a clear blue bottle of cream. Blaine stood upright, squirted the cream onto his palm, and massaged it in his hair. More drops of water sprinkled against the barrier, plunk plonk plunk.

With his fingers jammed close to the button of the agonizing jeans, Lynsael wrenched them loose from his waist, and let them fall down around his naked thighs. Carefully, he stepped out of them, leaving them in a bunch on the floor.

The only thing he could think of was how wonderful it would be to slide under the raining waters, and take Blaine into his arms. It was the only thing crowding his mind since the day he'd been freed from that granite statue.

Before he could take another step, Blaine bent down and the hissing of the water died. Four fingers clenched on to the side of the curtain, and it rolled back on the plastic hangers.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Blaine cursed as he grabbed for a towel and wrapped it around his waist.

Lynsael bounced back and retrieved the jeans from the floor. “Nothing. I was... needing to use the bathroom.”

“Yeah?” Blaine stepped out of the tub basin. “You don't have to be naked to take a piss.”

Lynsael's jaw tightened, face flushed in embarrassment. “I know that. It's just these things are horrible. Have anything... smoother?” He tugged at the waistband in hopes that his human charge would agree.

“No. Now do you mind? I have to get ready to go.”

The angel dropped his head, his long mane curled across his face and neck. “Sorry for bothering you,” he whispered before leaving the bathroom.

It was insane to hope that he could have a chance with Blaine, a human. Although he'd wished for the day to come that his human ward's age would grant him the freedom of choice, there was always the fact that he was still an angel. As guardian of the Palace, despite a fallen one, he still had to follow a sense of dignity.

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