Pep Up The Formula Tonight (tweeandbiscuits) wrote in kaiserchiefsfic,
Pep Up The Formula Tonight
tweeandbiscuits
kaiserchiefsfic

Fic.

So... this is the first time I've been online in a while with peace and quiet. And I remembered my memory stick so WOO. I can post a crappy little fic that I wrote in November or December somewhen. It's unbeta'd because I'm never online when anyone I know is, but it's been run through a spellchecker twice. So err.. enjoy I guess!

Sofa Smoochies
Author - Me princesslia84
Rating - Err.... PG-13, Maybe R for naughty words and suggestiveness, nothing more than kissing and bit of heavy petting. It's fluffy and short. Much like a baby sheep.
For pspenceyprep who wanted something fluffy
Complete alternate universe/pre fame fic. I don't know what jobs they used to do. And despite watching it when it first aired I can't remember exactly when Queer As Folk originally aired.


I'll be glad to get in from work tonight. Don't get me wrong, I like my job, but the walk home after the bus drops me off is bloody cold of a November Evening. At least when I get home It'll be nice and warm and Ricky'll be there to cheer me up.

Ricky's my best mate of 3 years and flatmate of 2. We're really close, only I've no idea how to tell him I'm gay..."By the way mate, every time you bend over to unload the washing machine, I want to throw you down on the lino and fuck you so hard you'll have friction burns and a funny walk for a fortnight" Somehow I can't see that going down too well. And I'm NOT imagining him going down now. I can do without a boner to make the walk home even more 'enjoyable'. He's not noticed the complete absence of ladies being brought back to my room since we moved in together, but then he's not actually brought any back himself, so it must be a city-wide drought.

It's just gone 10 as I get in. Ricky's on the sofa, and he shouts back to me as he hears the door.
"C'mon Nick, s'cold outside, get yer arse in that door and on the sofa."

Neither of us earns particularly well. but Minumum wage just about beats being on the dole, so it's of utmost importance to not waste the heat...or anything really. I can see that Ricky's picked up some beer as a weekend treat, There's no pub this weekend, got another week til we're paid, so it's a couple of videos and some cheap Netto beer.

I ask him what films we've got this weekend, and realise we must've REALLY overspent earlier in the month when I find out it's a weekend infront of Channel 4 or Granada. Our TV's older than the both of us, and the aeriel's not much younger, and doesn't pick up BBC whatsoever, but the screen's big so grey cloud, silver lining, blah blah blah. I grab a beer and flop out on the sofa shattered. Ricky's had it on Channel 4 since Countdown, he informs me, proud of having solved the "crucial conundrum" quicker than either contestant. Oh the joys of lieu days.

He's ever so slightly sozzled. I look at the beer box and notice 7 are already gone. Well the coming out thing could be tonight. It's been playing on my mind for a while, and I might as well take advantage of Ricky's inebriation. Alcohol always helps to soften big announcements.

There's not much on tonight.. We've got a choice of a new drama called "Queer As Folk" on 4 or "100 funniest cute animal moments" on Granada and I don't think either of us will EVER be drunk enough for 4 hours of cats headbutting windows . So.. half an hour into Queer As Folk and I've decided 3 things.The guy who plays Stuart is a pretty boy. And I so would. Vince is kinda hot in a not obvious at first way, and Hazel reminds me FAR far far too much of my own mother. Actually, make that 4 things.. this has got to be one of the most graphic things I've EVER seen on TV.

I've been..err..affected by it for a while, but it's begun to get noticable now, so I cross my legs and go to grab the cushion. Only my hand meet's Ricky's and as I glance over him I can't help but notice he's been affected by the on-screen action too. Fuck me. No wonder he has a smug grin if that's what he's packing! I find him staring at me once I tear my eyes away from his crotch and back up to his face. I flash him what I hope is a cheeky grin and he smiles almost nervously before leaning in and pressing his lips against mine.

It takes my brain a few seconds to digest what just happened, and Ricky's sat back, looking a little unsure, biting his lip. I'm not about to let this stop unless I'm told to, so I lean across to where he's sat and return the kiss. It's just a chaste kiss, but I want more, so I kiss him again, pressing insistently and I stroke the inside of his thigh as I do, eliciting a gasp that lets me deepen the kiss. We stay kissing softly for a while but as the heat rises, so does the intensity of the kisses. Ricky has one hand in my hair, and the other is at the top of my thigh. One of mine is trapped against the sofa, and I manouvre over it to the arm of the sofa, lifting myself a little as I push us both over and use the hand on his thigh to move his legs onto the sofa as I go so I'm lay on top of him. Ricky has an unfair clothing advantage on me, and he flicks the button on my jeans and works them down my thighs and halfway towards my ankles before pulling me flush with him, grinding his pyjama clad crotch against mine. It's my turn to gasp sharply now. I've been in varying states of arousal for a good 3 hours now and this harsh friction is just what I've been needing. Ricky slips into a comfortable rhythm, stroking my thighs and arse, grinning and hissing as his fingers skim across a particularly sensitive patch of skin, making me buck against him. I slip the hand that isn't pre-occupied with keeping us on the sofa up his pj top, scratching my nails down his back. I can't talk for Ricky, but I've definately gone through a dry spell recently, and I'm not going to last a lot longer with this friction and heat, and neither is Ricky judging by the "Nick.. Close.." he grunts in my ear as he thrusts. It doesn't take much more than another 3 or 4 thrusts before I come hard, pressing against Ricky and sending him over the edge too.

As we extricate ourselves from the sofa and strip off our damp shorts Ricky laughs softly. I look up at him, quirking an eyebrow in question.

"I've had this planned for a couple of weeks now. I wasn't sure where you stood on the whole gay/straight thing so I made sure to have this on when you got back tonight and just prayed you weren't completely disgusted.... I won £20 on a scratchcard this morning. Fancy the cinema?"

Guess we can afford to treat ourselves now. I'm damned if that's a one off, so we may well only be needing a one bedroom place fairly soon. That'll save us a few quid on rent and I've got a good idea how we can generate a little warmth on our own.

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