Chris: … … … .*stare*
Tom: My chest is sore. Why did you make me do so many push-ups?
Chris: …(For this very reason…) So you get fit…
Tom: *Hiddles pout* You don’t think I’m fit? I’m kind of okay with the way I am… I mean I’m not like you, but…
Chris: It’s just to help with cardio, mate…so you don’t get sick…
Tom: I guess running isn’t enough… you’re right. I’ll just have to toughen up and stop being such a tit.
Chris: *slap on back* You’re not a tit. I just think a few would help…*rub of pec* It’s not that bad…
Tom: I know, but they’re still sore… *rub of other pec* What do you do when you’re aching, Chris?
Chris: *rub* I just let it burn…it’s a good feeling.
Tom: Now I think that’s just your Australian charm my friend, not the burn.
Chris: …Ah…*removes his hand*
(To make one feel as awkward as possible with your charming words)
Chris: …You’re such a bag of dicks, mate.
Tom: *grin* I’ve been told it’s one of my best features.
Chris: *ruffle of hair*
Tom: Ah! No! It might fall out!
Chris: It will not…
Tom: You’ve seen my forehead, it’s a prime example! *wave of hand away*
Chris: All I see is more room for that brain of your’s..
Tom: All the better to outsmart you with, my dear.
Chris: *hang of head* Yeah.
Tom: Oh, I didn’t mean to offend you! *hand on arm* I was just playing. And besides, where I lack in fitness and attractiveness you make up for it tenfold.
Chris: You’re kidding right? Mate…you’re stunning.
Tom: Don’t be silly, you’re the one everyone’s looking at Christopher! Such sun-kissed skin, an ocean of blonde atop your head an eyes as clear as the sky. How could anyone compete with that?
Chris: …Gee, I don’t know…the accent, the copper hair, the beautiful smile that lights up the room, the impossible but somehow possible aqua eyes, the selfless, amazing personality…Your intelligence, your wit, your charm, your amazing figure, your perfect facial structure, flawless skin, perfect lips…Did I mention you’re really damn smart…and beautiful?
Tom: Oh, I… I, um… *blush* Th-that’s not all true.
Chris: …Uh, yeah it is.
Tom: It is not, stop that.
Chris: I will when you do.
Tom: Stop complimenting myself? If you insist.
Chris: Me, you-! *shakes his head*
Tom: *cheeky smile*
Chris: I can’t keep up with you, mate. I really can’t.
Tom: Well you can run much farther, at least.
Chris: Doubt it…you look like you’d be more nimble…
Tom: Yet you’re the on built for endurance, my friend.
Chris: Yes, I am.
Tom: So I might be the deer, but you are certainly more like a puma than a deer.
Chris: …Are you a deer?
Tom: I think I could pull of antlers.
Chris: Hahahaha. I’d hunt you any day…
(And now I’m picturing Tom dressed as a golden buck…)
Tom: So there’s this play… I was hoping you’d practice lines with me? *hopeful eyes*
Chris: Yeah…but I’m not much of an actor, mate.
(OH CHRIS BBY YOU GOT NO IDEA)
Tom: That’s okay, it’s just to practice my line. Oh, do you like my costume? *turn around* I’m going to be in some sort of photo-campaign after I’m done!
Chris: Looks good on you…You can pull anything off, mate.
Tom: You flatterer. *light headbutt*
Chris: *laugh* …So lines.
Tom: Oh, yes! *prance around in golden buck outfit*
(MUST NOT BE REMINDED OF SHAKESPEARE KINK FIC.)
(HA. Good luck with that.)
Chris: …So I just read this line? *points on page*
Tom: Please do.
Chris: …*clears his throat” What stern ungentle hands, hath lopped and hewed and made thy body bare…Of her two branches—those sweet ornaments, whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in…
Chris: (I have no fucking clue what this means…sounds passionate…)
Tom: … . That was beautiful.
Chris: …*looks at the page* That’s not your line…
Tom: Read me more.
Chris: …??? More? I, uh…
(Why can I see them getting hot and heavy over poetry, like Diora in FIred Up? Chris learns very quickly how to say the words properly.)
(Dude…that’s from King Henry IV’s by the way…)
(I can just see them bored, lying on the grass one starry night to watch for shooting stars ((clearly Tom’s idea)) and Chris picking up Tom’s book and starting to read from it.)
Tom: … I think now would be the appropriate time to show me how to kiss a girl properly, Christopher.
Chris: Wait, what?
Chris: Oh, um…*voice drops slightly once more* Alas, a crimson fountain of warm blood…doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips, coming and going with thy honey breath…
Tom: Oh good lord how is your voice legal. *bite of lip*
Tom: You should give me those lessons now.
Chris: Lessons? You mean the…?
Tom: *press of lips to*
Tom: *hand on cheek*
Chris: *hand in hair…parts for a moment* That…really got you riled up…*glance at sheet* …But if there be nor ever were one such, it’s past the size of dreaming. Nature wants stuff to vie strange forms with fancy; yet t’imagine…An Antony were nature’s piece ‘gainst fancy, codemning shadows quite…
Tom: Gods, Chris… *pushes the book down and kisses him again*
Chris: Mmm. *deepens kiss*
Tom: *small noise of approval*
Chris: Mmm…*hand on Tom’s hips*
Tom: *breaks for air, still sitting stop him* Is there… any more to this lesson?
Chris: In loving thee thou knowst I am forsworn; but thou art twice forsworn to me love swearing…In act thy bed-vow broke and new faith vow broke…*brushes his thumb over Tom’s bottom lip*…
Tom: *bites his tumb gently*
Chris: In vowing new hate after new love bearing…*kisses his temples* …and why thou…*kisses lips, sucking his bottom lip*
Tom: *runs a hand up to the back of his neck, pressing their mouths together*
Chris: Mmmm….*hands find their way to Tom’s rear*
Tom: *chuckles* I didn’t know hands were such a vital part of kissing.. *tilts his head, deepening the kiss*
Chris: Mmm…*parts* Hands are vital part, you know…
Tom: Oh? Is that so?
Chris: *squeeze* Yeah…extremely important…
Tom: *kisses up his throat*
Chris: Mmm…easy now…or I’ll end up teaching you more than just kissing…
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