#apparently they just let alyssa wong do whatever they want which like

[themyscirah]

I'm so glad I read the entire Hidden Empire event book before the Aphra issues coming out at the same time. Like we really had Kho Phon Farrus out here spoiling one of the twists of the series (what was inside the time prison) months before the comic came out just because they had a little crush and had to report back to the ex-girlfriend brigade abt what was happening. I mean Kho has THE worst taste in women (they did have a crush on Aphra im p sure) so like I could see it but like. Editorial. You're chill with this?

[nerdby]

I hate to say it but the one thing Moms 4 Fascism is doing right actually reading the books that their kids wanna read.

Like I fucking hate those people -- there are dads in the group too -- but it is really important to monitor and talk to your kids about the media they consume. When you do that without the intention of turning them into brainwashed fascists, then you're being a good parent. And I'm speaking from experience here. I did not have very good media literacy growing up. I ended up emulating very, very problematic characters because I didn't understand how or why their behavior was problematic. No one tried to sit down and explain it to me in a way that was not degrading and that made me dig my heels in even more.

If someone had come to me and tried to calmly explain the issue with the media I was consuming, I guarantee I would have listened better.

Like let's look at comic books. A lot of comics and manga are rated T or T+. A T rating means its suitable for ages 13 and up, and T+ is the equivalent of an R-rating which is intended for ages 17 and up. I was parentified growing up and was raising my sister who was a toddler and helping to raise two of my cousins when I first got really into Western comics and started checking them out of the library way back in 2005. I was fifteen years ols. So I did, at one point, tell the children's room librarian that I thought (some) graphic novels should be moved to the Young Adult section of the library.

Like kids over the age of 11 can read whatever the hell they want, ok, but I'm not about to hand a toddler a copy of Berserk or like Marvel's Alias/Jessica Jones or the 2005 Punisher arc.

And apparently the librarians agreed with me and the books did get more popular after being moved to the YA section of the library.

Like a lot of people don't realize how mature comic books really are because--

They're ignorant elitist snobs who think that comics are for children

They're misogynistic assholes who think girls shouldn't read comics because of bullshit gender roles

They're fucking fascists who believe that comic books are pure evil because of problematic male readers -- AKA radfems peddling gender essentialist bullshit

Anything adapted to film tends to be heavily censored, especially anime

But if you want to see how mature comics can be I always recommend Marvel's 2005 MAX run as those books are very graphic and political and marketed at adult readers. Or just watch any of the Netflix Marvel series which are a lot based off of the 2005 MAX run. Like seriously did y'all not see Wilson Fisk decapitate a man with a car door????

No???

Here ya go.

And the first season of Jessica Jones is a straight up traumatizing masterpiece of horror.

But you probably wanna stop after season one cause it gets kinda cringe from there on out. The Defenders series is worth watching as well, but really it's better if you just stick to the books with these. The books are definitely better. Except for the OG Iron Fist cause that entire concept gives off majorly racist white savior vibes but that's a story for another day. Read the newer Iron Fist books where the superhero from Asia that saves Asian people from Asian mafias and is the absolute best at Asian martial arts is now an actual Asian person and not some random white dude👌🏻

Check out Iron Fist: The Shattered Sword by Alyssa Wong here.

Like I had someone tell me that comic books are evil because children will try to emulate super heroes. Believe me, no one wants that so if you're a parent whose having that problem

Make them watch the movie Kick-Ass (2010).

Or enroll your kid in martial arts. There are also martial arts how-to's on YouTube. Be sure to emphasize that martial arts should only be used for self-defense because cops are fascist dicks and in real life superheroes go to prison. Because the government wants to prevent minorities from staging a potentially violent uprising and usurping their asses to bring about something that might hopefully be better🙃

Ok, you can leave that last part out but its kind of an interesting thought, huh?🤔

But like seriously if people would just monitor the media they're kids consume and talk them about how and why it might be problematic and why they should not emulate certain pieces of media then.....Well, it'd still be an issue cause fascists have and will always exist. Maybe it would be more contained, though?

Crazy idea, I know.

[artificialqueens]

Until the Flavor's Gone (6/?) (Biadore) - Kitschy Pixel

A/N: Hello! Wow, guys. I’m so super flattered that you all have been hanging on and interested to this fic so far. Especially since this is actually turning into a bit of a slower burn than I intended. I hope you guys don’t mind. I really don’t know if my usual writing standards quite hold up for this chapter (but I thought that with the last chapter too so… what can you do?) Sorry if this is a disappointment.

In this instalment, Courtney goes overboard to play matchmaker, Adore goes on another trip, and I think I may have fucked up my own timeline but I just really wanted to write this. So I mathed and tried to fix it (I wrote it down this time so I wouldn’t keep getting mixed up and confused). I think it still works? Maybe. I dunno. Numbers.

Language warnings and some flirting leading to some almost very close-to smut! Hurrah!

Additional note: The brief description of Danny’s discomfort in wearing drag for an extended period of time is based solely on my experience in cosplaying. I don’t know if it’s accurate, but what is? Okay, stop talking, start storying.

Chapter Six

Waking up in New Orleans wasn’t exactly what Danny expected to be doing roughly ninety-six hours ago, and yet? Here he was, rubbing sleep out of his eyes as a pile of clothes were being dumped onto him.

“Rise and shine!” Shane chirped excitedly, completely ignoring Danny’s squeaky protests. “We need to get up and get ready if we’re going to make it.” He shoved a water bottle in Danny’s hands. “Drink. Get hydrated and get up.”

“Make it where?” Danny groaned as he unearthed himself from what apparently was almost all of Courtney Act’s wardrobe upended onto his bed.

“You’ll seeeee…” The overly chipper inflection in Shane’s voice should have set off warning bells, and yet? It managed to fly right under Danny’s still not fully awake radar.

“Fuck man, did you bring every single thing you own?”

“No. This isn’t even half of it. Now go on. Get up! Clean yourself up and we can figure out what you’re going to wear!”

Danny complied, albeit with an eye roll and a sour mood. A few days ago, Shane approached Danny with the crazy idea of a road trip to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. Apparently it was a trip he’d been planning for months, but his nameless travel companion had backed out. Why Shane was asking him on this To Wong Foo-esque excursion (without the getting stranded part) hadn’t been discussed (and neither had been how late they’d be arriving for the festivities), but since he wouldn’t have to pay a dime and Shane offered him his own room – well, how was he supposed to say no?

After showering the grime of travelling in a car for two and a half (very nearly three) days and brushing his teeth, Danny wandered back out to sit on the small office chair and watched as Shane sifted through his belongings. “How did you get in here?”

Shane snapped his fingers like he nearly forgot and tossed the hotel room key to Danny. “Careful who you trust that with, the world is full of weirdos.”

“Pretty sure this room is full of them… how’d you even get this?”

The energetic Aussie put his fingers to his lips to shush Danny before he held up two dresses, similar in length, but different in color. “Which one?”

Danny pointed to the iridescent blue as he sipped at his water. “That one.”

“Oh, good choice!” Shane tossed it to Danny and the other blinked in surprise.

“What? No. Are you joking? This isn’t going to fucking fit me…”

“It most definitely will. I’ve got an eye for that kind of thing. Go put it on.”

Danny held the dress out in front of him and shook his head. “No fucking way. There’s no way!”

“Just do as I ask! Go on, shoo!” he gestured with his hands as he spoke, directing Danny back to the bathroom. “I wanna see!”

Shane bit his lip and craned his neck as he started to get his own outfit together for the day, calling out to Danny, “So have you talked to Bianca… or I guess… Roy lately?” he prodded gently, trying to sound as natural as possible.

“Not lately, but he gets busy sometimes. So it’s not a big deal…” Danny rounded the corner in the dress, struggling with the zipper in the back, “Why?” he raised an eyebrow at Shane’s sudden curiosity in the topic. It wasn’t exactly unusual. Shane had checked in on their conversations in the past – but it was usually while Danny was texting with Roy, so it never went unprompted.

Shane shuffled over to help Danny zip the dress the rest of the way, shrugging as he replied, “Oh, just asking. You haven’t talked about him lately so I thought I’d ask…”

“You make it sound like I talk about him all the time…” Danny paused as Shane turned him towards the hotel mirror. “I look weird.”

“You look gorgeous, for one. We can figure out a way to grunge it up a little if you’d prefer, but you look really nice… and two…” Shane began rifling through the duffel bag that Danny had brought all his drag in, as requested. “You actually do talk about him often and that’s perfectly fine… ugh, do you wash these tights?” Danny snickered out a ‘no’ and Shane wrinkled his nose, “Whatever. Okay, these shoes and this jacket… now go!” Shane shoved the items in Danny’s hands and shooed him away again before sitting on the bed and waiting for him to come back out again. “Give me a second and I can help you with your make-up.”

“Bitch, you’re not touching my face. I can get that on my own. Now can you like… go away for six seconds? Jeez…”

Shane shrugged and waited impatiently for Danny to come back out of the bathroom. When he wasn’t quick enough, Shane counted to ten and then got up to lean against the doorway, watching as Danny started to turn himself into the rebel princess he’d crafted over the past year, the shoes and jacket on the counter beside him. “Can I ask what’s going on between you two?”

“Between who? Me and Roy?” Danny leaned close to the mirror, half distracted by what he was doing. “We’re long distance friends who text when we can…”

“Is that all?”

Danny paused in what he was doing and set aside his eyeliner. He turned and faced the still hovering queen who did his best to feign innocence as he seemed to pry at Danny’s social life a little bit more insistently than usual. “Yes? Is there something else we should be?” He leaned one hand on the counter and watched as Shane did a very poor job at covering up that telling grin by chewing on his lip. Danny sighed heavily as he finally caught onto where this was headed, “Why are you asking about it?”

“Okay, don’t get mad but… let’s say a little bird told me that you haven’t had sex since your trip to New York…”

Danny sucked a long breath through his nose and flicked his eyes upwards. “I’m going to fucking kill, Jay…” he growled as he tossed his eyeliner down against the sink, just for the satisfaction of throwing something against something else. It was enough.

“Now, don’t get mad at Jay! He was just… sharing… some personal information that you’d given him in confidence… okay, I know that sounds bad but he really just had the best intentions!”

“You are fucking kidding me… who else knows?” Danny glared when Shane pulled a panicked face and shrugged, “I swear to fucking God…”

“I don’t know! Me, I know… and Detox… and Jasmine… maybe Raven and Alyssa…?” With each added name, Danny groaned a little louder. “It really isn’t that big of a deal, Danny! It’s okay! We just… all kind of figured that maybe you and Bianca were a bit more serious than you were letting on…”

“He’s across the country, with a work schedule that makes me exhausted. Not exactly prime boyfriend material…” Danny sighed as he picked back up where he left off. “Besides… it’s not like we have a lot in common.”

“Then how do you two still talk to each other on a regular basis?”

“I…” Danny stopped again before huffing out another sigh. “I don’t know. Can we just pretend I have a good answer to that one and just move the fuck on?”

“Whatever!” Shane threw up his hands and wandered off while Danny finished getting ready, holding out a wig as he exited the bathroom. “This one,” he insisted before he wandered to the bathroom to get ready himself. Danny took the long black wig and flipped it over onto his head, smoothing it out the best he could with his fingers. He took a step back and stared at the fully realized Adore staring back at him in that short borrowed dress that glittered in a deep, rich-looking peacock blue.

With a playful cock to her hip she skipped back to the bathroom where she’d left the jacket and shoes. Placing both hands on either side of the doorway, she leaned forward slightly and watched as Shane began his own transformation. They stayed like that in silence for several minutes before Shane finally spoke up again. “So why has it been so long, if you don’t mind me asking? If you and Bianca aren’t anything serious, then what’s up?”

Adore shrugged a shoulder and flicked her eyes up into a random corner of the room. “I dunno. Dry spell, I guess?”

“A year long dry spell?”

“It hasn’t been a full year…”

“Close enough. But seriously. Just disinterest or what?”

“I guess? I dunno…” Adore blinked a few times and focused back on Shane, frowning a bit. “You’re trying to get me to talk about New York again, aren’t you?”

“Again. It’s been close to a year and you still haven’t said anything more than ‘massive dick’ and a torn shirt. That, coupled with the fact that you haven’t had sex since? I mean… come on. Excuse me for being curious…”

Adore just snorted before she perched herself onto the back of the toilet and started to absent mindedly chew on her nails. Shane started to impatiently hop up and down in place as Adore continued to stay quiet on the whole matter.

“Oh, come on!”

“Nope.”

“You tell me about the guy who fell asleep on you mid-fellatio but you can’t tell me about this.”

“I’m sorry!” Adore laughed as Shane, now several steps closer to Courtney, groaned and headed back into the room to finish getting dressed. Adore hopped down and followed. “Have you ever just had a guy that you just… you wanted to keep to yourself?” She sighed as she sat down on the bed and started to pick at the mound of clothes spread across it. “Look,” she began when Courtney quipped a short ‘no’, “I can’t explain it. I really can’t. I don’t know fucking why I can’t. I just…” she added a shrug as if that was supposed to put the whole topic to rest.

It was obvious from Courtney’s face that it didn’t do much of anything other than frustrate her. But she relented none the less, “Fine. Fine. Keep your magic New York night to yourself if you wanna be selfish. We’re in New Orleans. It’s Mardi Gras and I,” she gestured to herself with a flourish, “Am going to end that ‘dry spell’ of yours somehow.”

–––––––––––––––––––––

“Holy fucking fuck in a fucking shit basket…”

The string of expletives weren’t from the crowd on Bourbon Street or Adore being crammed into the crowd on Bourbon Street in daytime drag with Courtney being shoved into her side. It had everything to do with seeing Bianca del fucking Rio on that stage, looking like some classic Hollywood showgirl in red and suddenly – suddenly – everything about this trip snapped into focus so fast it felt like vertigo on solid ground.

The vague story about the trip, the timing of it all, the borrowed dress, the overly helpful Courtney and her incredibly curious questions…

It was so fast that she couldn’t even get mad about it (at first). All she could do was stare, fixated on the vulgar bundle of energy shouting obscenities, casting shade, and doing it perfectly in sequins, feathers and high heels. God dammit, those legs…

When she finally caught her breath, she pinched the underside of Courtney’s arm. Hard. And the Aussie beside her yelped, only to be met with a glare. The spell of shock had dissipated and now there was the anger. Courtney rubbed her arm and shot Adore a sheepish look.

“You wouldn’t have come along if you knew…” She flailed and wrapped her arms around Adore’s waist to keep her still. “And I don’t understand why! That’s why I keep asking about New York. You talk to him constantly and yet we all knew that if you were handed the chance to see him again, you’d pass it up!”

“You all knew? You all knew?” Adore hissed. “You didn’t even try to ask! I’m not mad that I drove a fucking thousand miles with you on this trip because he’s here – I’m mad that you fucking tricked me into doing it! And what? It’s a conspiracy now?”

“Well… I kind of needed a little help with planning everything…”

“Are you joking? What kind of nightmare made for TV romcom special is this?”

“Look. I said I would end your dry spell, didn’t I?” She gestured to the stage, “There’s the solution! One way or another!” She tightened her hold and looked up at Adore with a plea and a strained smile, “Please, Adore. Don’t leave. At least… she’s right there. We can catch up to her when she leaves the stage. At least say hi. That won’t kill you, right?”

Adore prepared herself to argue but got sidetracked by Bianca and her co-host laughing a particularly poorly done costume off the stage and something about it – seeing her in her element, dominating the atmosphere, and just doing her job – seemed to soothe the salted wounds of this particular brand of betrayal (and maybe it was a bit harsh to call it a betrayal, but god dammit). Her whole body relaxed from the tense battle ready (or fleeing, it could have been fleeing) stance it had taken and she nodded. “Fine,” she conceded. “Fine, I’ll at least say hello to him… but only because he’s here.”

And she kind of wanted to, but she wasn’t about to admit that out loud.

–––––––––––––––––––––

If it weren’t for the number of people stopping Bianca for a photo or a compliment or a declaration of love, Adore and Courtney would have easily lost her once the crowd began to disperse. But they got lucky and Courtney’s very loud ‘Oi! Pussy face!’ over the din caught Bianca off guard long enough for them to close the distance. Courtney jogged up first and Bianca beamed.

“Holy shit!” She reached out for a quick hug, and stared in disbelief as if Courtney was just some delusion she’d conjured up one day that suddenly sprang to life. “You’re fucking kidding me. You didn’t mention…”

“I brought you a belated birthday gift,” Courtney gestured behind her just as Adore came into view. “Or early birthday gift, however you want to look at it.”

Adore didn’t quite know how to interpret the change of Bianca’s smile at seeing her. That wide grin dropped, those painted lips parted for just a moment (shock, maybe?) and was followed by what could only be described as an appreciative smirk. “I see…” She coyly cocked her head to the side and for a minute, Adore hated her for it. She bit her lip in anticipation as Bianca said in a voice too high pitched to be sincere, “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

That cackle broke out in waves as Adore rolled her eyes and she was brought into a good, firm hug. “Oh God, what the fuck are you two even doing here?”

“Looking for boys,” Courtney piped up, “Which I’ve found. They’re over there, so I’m going to go – bye!” She retreated quickly before either of them could protest. Bianca shook her head as they both watched the bubbly blond disappear from their sight.

“That fucking shady cunt,” she murmured before turning to face Adore. “So I take it this is the Adore Delano you were so afraid to let me see?”

Adore offered a tight lipped smile and a shrug, “One and the same, I guess. But before you rip me apart, I just want to say you look like a bedazzled chicken right now…”

The jab earned her a laugh, which helped her heart slow down from the rampaging rhythm it was pounding before and she let a genuine smile break through. Her eyes darted downwards as she fought to keep her hands to her sides, bunching up the shimmery fabric between her fingers before releasing it and smoothing it back in place.

“Look who’s on the defensive,” Bianca shot back before she reached out and pushed a few strands of wig fiber from Adore’s cheek. “And you look fine, if it weren’t for this sad looking wig. Dear Christ, do you own a brush?” Her fingers lingered as she felt Adore lean a bit into the touch before she dropped her hand and sighed. “Come on, walk with me. I can’t stay in one place too long or else people will start to swarm. Besides, I have to make an appearance. This way.”

“You’re like… a local celebrity…” Adore didn’t mean to sound so impressed, but she did and she was. There was a life that rippled off of Bianca like waves hitting sand, that pulled back and beckoned Adore to follow. She’d seen it before when they first met, but here it seemed to be stronger, more potent, and more likely to try to drown her.

“Celebrity is a strong word… I just made sure my name got around.”

Adore trailed back when Bianca was stopped for a picture and then picked back up again once ‘thank you’s were exchanged. “Really? Because it’s looking like ‘celebrity’ is the right kind of word to me…”

Bianca sighed out a laugh and shook her head, “I worked in this city for a long time, that’s all. I’m not famous, I’m just familiar.”

Their paces slowed and their hands nudged together, but neither seemed brave enough to lock fingers. Instead, Adore cleared her throat and took a slight step to the side and concentrated very hard on walking straight. She blinked a few times when she realized that Bianca was still talking to her, “What?” She turned her head a bit fast, sucking in a breath when she realized how close Bianca had leaned in and choked out an “I’m sorry…”

“I asked when you got here…” Bianca clarified, taking a step back and curling her hands into fists, taking a moment to smile and nod at someone yelling ‘hello’ to her.

“Oh!” Adore shrugged and started to fiddle with the ends of her wig, wrapping a strand around her finger, “Late last night. This was all Courtney’s brilliant idea…”

“Of course it was,” Bianca flashed a smile that made Adore’s stomach do – maybe not a full flip, but at least an enthusiastic flutter. “Have you ever been?” Bianca tipped her chin up as Adore shook her head and sighed, eyes looking upwards as she was obviously trying to figure something out. “Listen, I’d hate for you to wander around by yourself, but I can’t exactly promise to show you the full New Orleans experience while I’m dressed like this. I technically still have a couple of things I need to do…”

Adore snorted, “God, do you ever get off?” The words slipped out before Adore had a chance to run them through what thin filter she had. If she had, she was certain it wouldn’t have sounded… quite like that. She sucked in a breath as she tried to think of a way to salvage the statement gracefully but could only squeak out, “Work, I mean… you always seem to be working.”

Bianca nodded, “Yeah, I knew what you meant,” though there was a spark in her eyes that said something else that made Adore’s insides warm. “And you wouldn’t be wrong,” she added. “But…” she trailed a bit as she seemed to gather up her thoughts and then pointed towards Adore. “How about this… you text me where you’re staying and I can meet up with you in about three hours…?”

Adore nodded and chewed on her lip, trying to not seem so eager to accept the invitation. “Yeah, sure… I would…” she hesitated to say ‘love’ and settled on the lesser, “really like that…”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

–––––––––––––––––––––

After Bianca separated herself from Adore, the younger queen wasn’t exactly sure what to do with herself. Courtney had abandoned her, with the best of intentions, Adore knew. However, the fact remained that she was officially on her own. Besides, she didn’t want to end up a third wheel with whoever Courtney had planned to occupy her time with when she was obviously trying to stay out of Bianca and Adore’s way.

Maybe it wasn’t the most thoroughly planned out matchmaking attempt, but bless her for trying.

Finding her way back to the hotel wasn’t hard, but she took her time. By the time she got back, her head was pounding, her mouth was dry and her feet throbbed – walking around in drag on minimal sleep early in the day had caught up with her quickly and minor discomfort was amplified by exhaustion and slight dehydration.

She stopped at the edge of her bed and stared at the mound of clothes that were still there before shoving them off to one side. She unpinned her wig and tossed it and the cap onto the dresser, before grabbing the bottle of water she’d abandoned earlier in the day and taking a swig. The shoes, tights, and jacket came next after she pulled off her eyelashes and fell back into bed.

It hadn’t been Danny’s intention to fall asleep, to be honest, and he hadn’t fully realized he’d done it until he heard a knock on his door. Jerking awake and groaning softly, he stumbled a bit out of bed, adjusting his skirt on his way. He assumed it was Courtney coming to check on him.

He’d assumed wrong.

He leaned against the door and just stared at Roy, who was looking back at him with a critical eye, that eyebrow raised and a smirk. “Wow,” he quipped and tilted his head, “You look pretty.”

“Fuck you,” Danny shot back as he turned to retreat back into his hotel room. Roy followed.

“No, seriously. I’m feeling so special to even be in the presence of such radiance…” He snorted when he saw the mess of clothes on the bed, “Wow. This got better…”

“Shut up. This is Courtney’s fault. I take no responsibility. Also? I just woke up so… I dunno… fuck you again.” Danny sluggishly began to gather up the clothes and pile them onto the arm chair nearby just so they were a bit more contained. He gulped at the sound of Roy’s chuckle behind him and he slid back down onto the bed. “Sorry. Give me a minute… I’m still waking up.”

“Take your time.”

Danny stared up at the ceiling before focusing back to Roy and pushing himself back up onto his elbows. “You can sit, you know. You don’t have to stand there like an asshole.” He rolled his eyes as Roy gestured to the armchair full of clothes, “Fuck’s sake…” he scooted over to one side of the bed and patted the other. It didn’t take much arm twisting for Roy to relent and sit down next to him, resting his back on the headboard.

They stayed like that for about a minute or two, but it felt like time was crawling. Danny could smell Roy, who’d clearly showered shortly before arriving, and he had to mentally remind himself not to press his face into his thigh. He rubbed at his eyes, smudging up his make-up more than it already was, as he tried to steer his mind away from the warmth that radiated next to him.

“So did you have another show or something?” He needed a safe topic and work always seemed safe with Roy. There was a sigh and another smile as Roy shrugged.

“Sort of. I had a couple of dicks I needed to suck so I could come back next year.”

Danny snorted out a laugh before he grinned up at the man beside him, “Spit or swallow?”

Roy rolled his eyes before he dropped a pillow onto Danny’s face before snickering and answering anyway, though vaguely, “It depends.”

Danny pulled the pillow off his face and wrapped his arms around it as he turned onto his side, still looking up at Roy and still grinning. “On what?” He was straying rapidly from what would be considered ‘safe topics’, but for an opportunity to tease Roy? He was willing to take the risk.

“None of your business.”

Danny trained his lips into his best pout, “Oh come on…” He pushed himself up and leaned his head against the headboard so he could be eye level with Roy, “Would you swallow if it were me?”

He hadn’t actually meant to ask the question, but now that it was out there he craved for an answer. Roy raised an eyebrow – less out of disbelief and more out of interest – as he flicked his gaze down to the pillow that now covered Danny’s lap.

“Are you asking me to suck your dick?”

“It’s hypothetical.”

“Sure it is.”

Danny snorted again and lightly hit Roy’s shoulder with the pillow. He excused himself to clean up his make-up before they could hold eye contact for too long. Roy followed and trailed after him without a word and was there to hand Danny a clean towel to dry his face. He pressed the towel to his eyes as he tried his best to scrub away the stubborn eye make-up. He remembered rattling something off about it before the towel was pulled gently from his hands and Roy’s lips were on his own.

There was that same spark he felt all those months ago in New York and for a second he thought it was strong enough to transport him back to that night in Roy’s apartment. It didn’t, of course, he was still standing in a hotel bathroom in the New Orleans with the faint sounds of cheering tourists filtering up through his window. But Roy was here, kissing him and tasting like spearmint mouthwash and wine (again). That was already enough.

When Danny’s back hit the wall after being pulled out of the bathroom, Roy’s mouth was back against his, drawing out each moan and whimper with ease. When the kiss finally broke with a barely audible ‘fuck’, the skirt of Danny’s dress was pushed up past his hips and his fingers were frantically trying to work open Roy’s fly.

“I borrowed this dress, don’t rip it – fuck!” Danny threw his head back as his wrists were pinned down and Roy’s hips met his. He pried his hand out of Roy’s grip to grab the back of his neck as their lips found each other again. It felt magnetic, two strong forces being pulled together until they latched onto one another and couldn’t let go.

“Not gonna rip it,” Roy assured gently as the kiss broke apart again, “Turn around…” Danny did as asked, pressing his elbows to the wall and arching his back. Roy’s hands grabbed at his hips with a chuckle so deep it reverberated with sultry sin, making Danny’s heartbeat double as all the blood in his body threatened to rush downwards. His breath caught at the sound of Roy quickly unzipping his dress. He bucked backwards once more and Roy grunted out, “Eager?”

“Just horny as fuck.”

“Pretty sure… that’s the same… thing…” Each pause was punctuated with a kiss as Danny was turned around again and his hands crawled up Roy’s shirt. He was wearing way too many clothes for Danny’s liking. He managed to get it up over the other man’s head and tossed it carelessly to the floor before Roy wrestled his hands away from him again. He leaned in and whispered “hold still,” in a soft, raspy voice that made Danny suck back a plea, bite his lip, and comply.

He stood there frozen, with his hands on either side of his head and bared to the scrutiny of those darkened brown eyes. The kisses that followed were short and sweet and made it hard for Danny to focus. His head was swimming in a syrup of arousal fuelled by the warmth of Roy’s hands and the spicy smell of his soap. He felt the “please” fall from his lips more than he actually heard it – a single syllable that carried the weight of a nine month dry spell and countless nights of New York inspired fantasies that tumbled from his tongue to Roy’s ears.

A soft “ha” followed and Danny watched as Roy flicked his eyes towards the ceiling. He swore he could see a thankful prayer cross Roy’s lips and marvelled at the other man’s visible disbelief of their circumstances. He wasn’t given much time to ponder why Roy would be so surprised before the dress gathered around Danny’s waist (along with his underwear) was pushed to his ankles in one smooth motion when the other man dropped to his knees.

With a gasp, Danny brought his hand to his mouth, biting down on his knuckles as he closed his eyes tight to muffle his moans while the other hand tangled itself in Roy’s hair. Warm and wet suction made Danny dig his heels into the carpet and his head fall back, the only thing really keeping him from sinking to the floor was a nice firm grip on his hips. He whimpered “fuck me” into his fist as the building pressure, ignited by that first kiss, began to sizzle and snap behind his eyelids like small sparklers tracing through a starless night, growing in number and threatening to blind him.

Needless to say, Danny got the answer to his question.