Re: Rorie/Garret/Mal
Rorie the Irishman was a funny guy, talking dirty and being vulgar and losing all his timidness. It made Garret chuckle, but in a sexy way. The images he was painting were very enticing indeed. Even Mal in his usual stoic mellow, wasn't going to ruin this. This was so exciting, and it was really happening, and that alone was reason enough to feel charged.
Garret stayed close to Mal as they walked, holding Rorie's hand and keeping an arm slung around the hound's waist. His boys. Both of them were his, and they loved him, and this was going to be the best night ever. He could see it now, the three of them in the dim light, Rorie pale and his body lean, and Malakai tanned and muscled, their skin smooth and perfect together. Garret found himself actually wanting to watch them. When the cool night air hit, Garret breathed it in deeply, sobering a little. "I wouldn't bother staying clothed the entire drive," he told Mal cheekily. "I'd just get naked in the back seat and fuck Rorie and make you wait your turn." He knew Mal could hold himself out for a long, long time. He also knew that, when fully charged up, the hound went almost feral, and it was so incredibly sexy when he did.