Praise the Cook

It had been a hazy summer day. The whole package: sunshine, heat, humid air, a whole day with nothing to do. Nothing official anyway.

Svorak twitched as a chunk of ice touched down between his shoulder blades, the melt sliding down his spine, cool and teasing.

Above him, his lover chuckled and trailed the cube in meaningless patterns. Wandering sometimes down to his ribs only to sweep over his lower back and chill the other side. The one time Svorak raised his head, Christoph made a point of tapping him on the scalp with the cube. Staying down it was then, and Svorak was content to stretch out on his stomach for the duration.

Smoke still lingered in the clothes the blond wore. Smoke, meat, and tangy Louisiana sauce. The barbecue had been a hit, and now the house was in a state of digestion. Sixteen ounces of prime beef had that effect. And behind the scents of a successful meal was the warm brine of the sea. Which reminded him, the smart ass who bagged this joint needed rewarding.

Christoph only laughed once, when Svorak rolled over and pulled the blond down. There was a muffled protest at the ice that was caught between them, melting at a terrific rate, trickles streaking down Svorak’s sides.

Svorak had just managed to get the shirt off his lover when there was a bang from the house. He groaned. Christoph laughed again.

That was just before Medic threw a bucket of iced water out on both of them.

xXx

Prompt: river

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About azhwi

An editing student, graduated Feb 2012. An avid fan of video games, fanfiction, anime, writing, and the serial comma.
This entry was posted in Bloody Woman, Fiction, Writing and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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