( gideon nearly laughs out loud at her remark about the model being a pretty boy. not her type? she can say that again, he thinks to himself. he doesn't take much stock in the types of men she hooks up with after shows, nor the ones she tries to actually date here and there for whatever reason (considering most of them only ever end up lasting all of a few weeks -- he can't imagine why).
they aren't the ones whose lap she takes a seat in, completely unprompted. they aren't the ones who she nuzzles against, brushes her fingers against so affectionately that goosebumps spread across his arms in a second. they aren't the ones who she goes home with at the very end of the night, even if the two of them found other partners earlier, if a tour bus could even be considered "home". call him what you will -- cocky, self-assured, whatever -- but gideon thinks it's a fairly safe bet to say he knows what her type is. )
I'm careful as can be, love. ( and she shifts in his lap so subtly, he hardly thinks anything of it. except then it happens again, more purposeful, prolonged. the movement of her hips against him causes friction between his jeans and his underwear, makes him nip at his lower lip to keep his thoughts at bay. jesus.
a hand creeps upwards to the exposed skin of her midriff, fingers gliding up towards her ribcage. he can hardly help himself; it's practically a reflex at this point. exhaling sharply, he mutters, ) Should I be jealous?
( right now, it sure doesn't fucking seem like it. gideon hasn't the slightest as to what she's thinking, doing this right in the middle of the hustle and bustle of her ridiculous shoot. surely she must be planning on dragging him off into a closet somewhere for a quick one before it's time to return to her rightful place in front of the camera once more. )
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Date: 2015-04-06 06:07 am (UTC)they aren't the ones whose lap she takes a seat in, completely unprompted. they aren't the ones who she nuzzles against, brushes her fingers against so affectionately that goosebumps spread across his arms in a second. they aren't the ones who she goes home with at the very end of the night, even if the two of them found other partners earlier, if a tour bus could even be considered "home". call him what you will -- cocky, self-assured, whatever -- but gideon thinks it's a fairly safe bet to say he knows what her type is. )
I'm careful as can be, love. ( and she shifts in his lap so subtly, he hardly thinks anything of it. except then it happens again, more purposeful, prolonged. the movement of her hips against him causes friction between his jeans and his underwear, makes him nip at his lower lip to keep his thoughts at bay. jesus.
a hand creeps upwards to the exposed skin of her midriff, fingers gliding up towards her ribcage. he can hardly help himself; it's practically a reflex at this point. exhaling sharply, he mutters, ) Should I be jealous?
( right now, it sure doesn't fucking seem like it. gideon hasn't the slightest as to what she's thinking, doing this right in the middle of the hustle and bustle of her ridiculous shoot. surely she must be planning on dragging him off into a closet somewhere for a quick one before it's time to return to her rightful place in front of the camera once more. )