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vanillalimeTitle: Paradise! Part 2: A Hairy Situation
Pairing: Beecher/Keller
Rating: R (for sexual content)
Length: 670 words
Prompt: Hair Fetish
Summary: While deserted on a tropical island, Chris plays with Toby's hair to pass the time.
Notes: This is a sequel to the double drabble "Paradise!" posted here. Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iskra667, who wrote the prompt for the Oz Prompt-A-Thon 2014.
____________________________
Chris lay down behind Toby, who was idly watching the rain through the mouth of the cave. The annual storm season was once again upon them, and while they were safe from the elements, the resulting claustrophobia and boredom were often more dangerous than the hurricane winds.
Chris instinctively gathered a section of Toby’s hair in his hand. Toby had stopped bothering to cut it the year before, and it had gotten so long, well past his shoulders. The rainwater that he had been using to wash it had made it soft and shiny. Chris absentmindedly fondled the hair between his fingers, and it felt like silk against the rough tips. He brought the mass up to his face and rubbed it against the stubble on his cheek, then his upper lip, before inhaling the scent. He slowly let it go and watched as it cascaded down Toby's back.
Chris nestled himself into Toby's lean body, pressing his hard dick against the soft flesh of Toby's ass. He pushed Toby’s hair aside and placed gentle kisses along the side of his neck and up to his ear.
“Pleeeease, Toby,” Chris whispered. “Let me.”
Toby grunted. He slowly sat up, keeping his back to Chris. He gave a slight toss of his head.
Chris sat up behind him and reached out. Suddenly, Toby turned and grabbed Chris's wrist.
"You know that I only let you do this because I like how it feels,” he huffed.
“I know,” replied Chris, and he held his breath.
Toby let go, and Chris went to work.
He gathered all of Toby's hair together in his hands. He combed his fingers through it to work out the tangles before smoothing it down. He noted that the auburn streaks had once again returned after endless months in the sun had rendered it bleach-blond. Toby’s tan had faded, too, revealing the heavily-freckled fair skin of his bare shoulders.
Chris carefully took a section of hair from the top of Toby’s head and divided it into three equal pieces. He crossed the right section over the middle one, then crossed left over middle. He gathered more hair from the right side of Toby’s head, added it into the right section, and crossed it back over the middle. Building up a steady rhythm, he did the same thing from the left, and began repeating the steps over and over.
Chris made sure to keep his hands close to Toby’s head so that the hair was kept tight in place. Sometimes he brushed his fingers against the area behind Toby’s ears, or the nape of his neck. This elicited tiny noises from Toby, as he rocked forward slightly or tilted his head to the side in response.
Chris occasionally paused to collect wayward strands of hair that were too curly to behave properly. This would be a lot easier with some hair gel, he mused. Smiling to himself, Chris envisioned the perfect substitute for that, but, alas, his timing was off for this session. Maybe next time.
Chris stopped when the remaining free hair was too short to cross. He grabbed a thin piece of dried vine from their tinder box and tied off the end. He wrapped the end around his finger, guiding it into its natural curl, and let go.
Chris leaned back and admired his handiwork: the most beautiful French braid ever created.
"Perfect," he declared. He lifted the braid up and swung it over Toby’s right shoulder, using the end to tickle his upper arm in the process. Bending over, Chris kissed Toby’s shoulder and rested his cheek against the braid. He felt Toby quiver underneath him.
Chris slowly moved his hand downward and confirmed Toby's erection. Toby's moan made him harder than he thought possible.
As Toby covered Chris's hand in his own, he mumbled, "Maybe, if we're ever rescued, you should get a job as a hairdresser."
Chris chuckled. ”Yeah, maybe.”
Except we're never gettin' rescued, thought Chris. I'll make sure of that.
____________________________
Cross-posted here to the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
oz_wishing_well community. Please leave comments there.
Pairing: Beecher/Keller
Rating: R (for sexual content)
Length: 670 words
Prompt: Hair Fetish
Summary: While deserted on a tropical island, Chris plays with Toby's hair to pass the time.
Notes: This is a sequel to the double drabble "Paradise!" posted here. Thanks to
iskra667, who wrote the prompt for the Oz Prompt-A-Thon 2014.____________________________
Chris lay down behind Toby, who was idly watching the rain through the mouth of the cave. The annual storm season was once again upon them, and while they were safe from the elements, the resulting claustrophobia and boredom were often more dangerous than the hurricane winds.
Chris instinctively gathered a section of Toby’s hair in his hand. Toby had stopped bothering to cut it the year before, and it had gotten so long, well past his shoulders. The rainwater that he had been using to wash it had made it soft and shiny. Chris absentmindedly fondled the hair between his fingers, and it felt like silk against the rough tips. He brought the mass up to his face and rubbed it against the stubble on his cheek, then his upper lip, before inhaling the scent. He slowly let it go and watched as it cascaded down Toby's back.
Chris nestled himself into Toby's lean body, pressing his hard dick against the soft flesh of Toby's ass. He pushed Toby’s hair aside and placed gentle kisses along the side of his neck and up to his ear.
“Pleeeease, Toby,” Chris whispered. “Let me.”
Toby grunted. He slowly sat up, keeping his back to Chris. He gave a slight toss of his head.
Chris sat up behind him and reached out. Suddenly, Toby turned and grabbed Chris's wrist.
"You know that I only let you do this because I like how it feels,” he huffed.
“I know,” replied Chris, and he held his breath.
Toby let go, and Chris went to work.
He gathered all of Toby's hair together in his hands. He combed his fingers through it to work out the tangles before smoothing it down. He noted that the auburn streaks had once again returned after endless months in the sun had rendered it bleach-blond. Toby’s tan had faded, too, revealing the heavily-freckled fair skin of his bare shoulders.
Chris carefully took a section of hair from the top of Toby’s head and divided it into three equal pieces. He crossed the right section over the middle one, then crossed left over middle. He gathered more hair from the right side of Toby’s head, added it into the right section, and crossed it back over the middle. Building up a steady rhythm, he did the same thing from the left, and began repeating the steps over and over.
Chris made sure to keep his hands close to Toby’s head so that the hair was kept tight in place. Sometimes he brushed his fingers against the area behind Toby’s ears, or the nape of his neck. This elicited tiny noises from Toby, as he rocked forward slightly or tilted his head to the side in response.
Chris occasionally paused to collect wayward strands of hair that were too curly to behave properly. This would be a lot easier with some hair gel, he mused. Smiling to himself, Chris envisioned the perfect substitute for that, but, alas, his timing was off for this session. Maybe next time.
Chris stopped when the remaining free hair was too short to cross. He grabbed a thin piece of dried vine from their tinder box and tied off the end. He wrapped the end around his finger, guiding it into its natural curl, and let go.
Chris leaned back and admired his handiwork: the most beautiful French braid ever created.
"Perfect," he declared. He lifted the braid up and swung it over Toby’s right shoulder, using the end to tickle his upper arm in the process. Bending over, Chris kissed Toby’s shoulder and rested his cheek against the braid. He felt Toby quiver underneath him.
Chris slowly moved his hand downward and confirmed Toby's erection. Toby's moan made him harder than he thought possible.
As Toby covered Chris's hand in his own, he mumbled, "Maybe, if we're ever rescued, you should get a job as a hairdresser."
Chris chuckled. ”Yeah, maybe.”
Except we're never gettin' rescued, thought Chris. I'll make sure of that.
____________________________
Cross-posted here to the
oz_wishing_well community. Please leave comments there.
