Post by makism vandik tarasov on Nov 10, 2012 20:24:35 GMT -5
The Russian man has already made himself at home in Quinn's room. Not long after pressing a silent kiss to the Irishman's fingertip he's on his feet. He bends at the man's fridge, tanned and graceful all over, and grabs a bottle of water. There's nothing abnormal in it, simply lingering and passing time. It had been an eventful afternoon, and he's drained. The Russian man aches down to the core, and it wasn't from the rough sex. No, that's where the bruises came from. Those bruises would fade, though they were generally Maksim's favorite part. More where that came from, at least, was easy to find.
The man readies himself for a shower, fading into the bathroom without much of another thought. Makism leaves the door open as he pees, finishes and dawdles waiting for Quinn to join him. He grumbles and moves to start running the water, waiting for it to heat.
