BLACK AND WHITE RE-RUNS @ sexy aleksei

[alasair luce]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true][atrb=cellpadding,0px,true][style=float: left; width: 250px; font-family: calibri; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify; padding: 5px]Urgh. Alasair has one hell of a time waking up. And he's pretty sure he's not in his own bed because the first thing he sees is a rawly bitten collarbone connected to an equally scratched and bruised body. He feels like he was run over by a truck or mauled by a bear - oh. ...Mauled by a bear. Well, that would explain things. He sighs softly, running a hand through still-sticky snowy hair and he just groans in pain. Aleksei really wasn't kidding when he said he could go all night long, good god. With a muffled whimper, he cuddles a little closer to Alexei's warm sleeping form, completely unwilling to get up. How many hours of sleep did the two of them even get? He's pretty sure the two of them were still going at it when the skies started to lighten. "Aleksei ...?" he inquiries incredulously. "You're on top of my foot. Kindly get off, please." [/style] [style=margin-top: 6px; width: 100px; height:100px; float:right; font-size: 7pt; font-family: calibri; font-weight: bold; text-align: center; border: 5px solid #fefefe] [style=background-color: #dfdfdf; padding: 2px]TAG: sexy aleksei[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; background-color: #dfdfdf; padding: 2px] WORDS[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; background-color: #dfdfdf; padding: 2px]© MOO OF OTE[/style][/style]

[Aleksei Ivanov]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true][atrb=cellpadding,0px,true][style=float: left; width: 250px; font-family: calibri; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify; padding: 5px] He wasn't an 'old man', but damn. He hadn't ever gotten so run down like he had the night before, and Aleksei was still knocked out cold. His eyelids, heavy as ever, were drawn over his tired, feverish blue oculars, as breaths manipulated his chest upwards. He softly snores, white hair all messy and bedridden against his scalp and the fluffy pillows, before rolling over to embrace his trainer. His warm body only is glad to feel the other responding back, curling around Alasair and pulling him closer. "Mmph," he groans, eyelids unwilling to open at the shine of light that still penetrates the curtains, "mmwhadd'yasay?" It's completely un-Casanova of him to say something like that, but he's completely battered. A lazy smirk rises on his features, however, and he peeks, one eye opening, before letting up his leg to allow the other's feet out from the previous capture. "... 's it mornin', 'ready?" He doesn't forget something special, though, and leans over to press a kiss against he other's forehead, brushing away those white strands so similar to his. [/style] [style=margin-top: 6px; width: 100px; height:100px; float:right; font-size: 7pt; font-family: calibri; font-weight: bold; text-align: center; border: 5px solid #a9b7bb] [style=background-color: #a9b7bb; padding: 2px]TAG: darling alasair[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; background-color: #a9b7bb; padding: 2px] WORDS[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; background-color: #a9b7bb; padding: 2px]© MOO OF OTE[/style][/style]

[alasair luce]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true][atrb=cellpadding,0px,true][style=float: left; width: 250px; font-family: calibri; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify; padding: 5px]Yes, freedom at last! Alasair pulls his foot free and shakes it for good measure, ignoring the pins and needles. He nestles right into the man's arms, quite enjoying the small kiss against his forehead. "Ready for round ...what number were we on again?" he jokes completely. There's no way Alasair could go for one more round. ...Well, maybe he could with a bit of breakfast in his system. Lazily, he trails a finger against the other's rawly bitten hipbone, wanting the other to jolt. "Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. It's past 12, you know," he chides, but he's in a rather decent mood for once in his life. "Do you think we could somehow get breakfast in bed?" [/style] [style=margin-top: 6px; width: 100px; height:100px; float:right; font-size: 7pt; font-family: calibri; font-weight: bold; text-align: center; border: 5px solid #fefefe] [style=background-color: #dfdfdf; padding: 2px]TAG: sexy aleksei[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; background-color: #dfdfdf; padding: 2px] WORDS[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; background-color: #dfdfdf; padding: 2px]© MOO OF OTE[/style][/style]

[Aleksei Ivanov]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true][atrb=cellpadding,0px,true][style=float: left; width: 250px; font-family: calibri; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify; padding: 5px] Aleksei chuckles, wrapping his muscular arms around the other and pulling him close. "Somethin' like a hundred'n'fifty, but then you chickened out, yeah? We were so close'ta it, though. I'm kind'a disappointed, but who's keepin' us from going for that two hundred mark?" Despite the fact that he's awoken just so briefly beforehand, his cheeky smile is evident on his scruffy features, his blue oculars accentuated by the bright sunlight that peers in from the closed shutters. He's used to teasing Alasair, really, but when he feels a slim digit curl up against his hip, he can't help but to jolt, something that the other probably wanted him to do. He shakes his head, white strands flying all over the pillowcase and almost mingling with his hair, before he grasps Alasair's teasing little hands with his bigger, calloused ones. "Careful there, little pup. I don't think you can go 'head for a two hundred just yet, yeah? Let's not play with fire when you've got'a lot on your plate."' There's some sort of a deep, rumbling growl that comes from the pit of his stomach, utterly predatory and thick, and it's obvious that his inner Beartic ( although he isn't one, yet! ) is already beginning to show and claim his mate. That snaps apart, though, when his stomach rumbles in hunger this time, and he rubs at his abdomen, riding up his simple, cotton shirt, "... mmm. Breakfast in bed, huh? Sounds mighty good. Is there somethin' you wanted?" [/style] [style=margin-top: 6px; width: 100px; height:100px; float:right; font-size: 7pt; font-family: calibri; font-weight: bold; text-align: center; border: 5px solid #a9b7bb] [style=background-color: #a9b7bb; padding: 2px]TAG: darling alasair[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; background-color: #a9b7bb; padding: 2px] WORDS[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; background-color: #a9b7bb; padding: 2px]© MOO OF OTE[/style][/style]

[alasair luce]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true][atrb=cellpadding,0px,true][style=float: left; width: 250px; font-family: calibri; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify; padding: 5px]Sweet success! That growl sends shudders racing down his spine, but it does nothing to distract himself from tormenting the man's hip with just the light pad of his finger. He hooks his finger this time and drags his fingernail along the edge of the bone, blatantly ignoring the sensation in his own hip. He runs his free hand through the white scruff of the man's jaw, scratching it like he would to an affectionate kitten. "I didn't chicken out at the two hundred mark!" he protests with a small frown, "You try bottoming for ten thousand rounds, urgh." Honestly, Alasair doesn't think he's capable of walking at all today. Everything is ridiculously sore. "Well, baby bear, I think I'd like a nice heap of hash browns, bacon, and pancakes with maple syrup ...with whipped cream and strawberries on top of them. Go on, genie. Make it happen," he playfully throws the fluffy pillow at Aleksei with a sharp grin. [/style] [style=margin-top: 6px; width: 100px; height:100px; float:right; font-size: 7pt; font-family: calibri; font-weight: bold; text-align: center; border: 5px solid #fefefe] [style=background-color: #dfdfdf; padding: 2px]TAG: sexy aleksei[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; background-color: #dfdfdf; padding: 2px] WORDS[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; background-color: #dfdfdf; padding: 2px]© MOO OF OTE[/style][/style]

[Aleksei Ivanov]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true][atrb=cellpadding,0px,true][style=float: left; width: 250px; font-family: calibri; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify; padding: 5px] "Your logic's flawed, kiddo," Aleksei groans, getting up from his comfortable position on the mussed-up bed, "we didn't even go five-hundred rounds. Ten thousand? Ten thousand's too much, don't'cha think?" His cheeky, peachy little smile merely explains everything, as he gleefully rises this time around, slipping his feet into the slippers so messily stationed at the side of the bed, and stretches, sighing in relief as his joints pop and lock. Slipping a calloused hand into his tangled white hair, Aleksei does his best to brush through and set them straight, while twisting his hip to lean down, kissing Alasair on the nose rather affectionately. He doesn't want to leave the bed, really, but Alasair had basically commanded him - and although he didn't like being commanded, he just followed. Hopefully, this kid wouldn't catch up to that quickly, because then he'd be in an apron and totally giving him back rubs and foot massages and whatnot. He merely smiles, a goofy, off-course one, before padding on over to his cozy kitchen, pouring some olive oil onto the surface of a non-stick pan; then, he opens the fridge to get some bacon and potatoes, whilst opening a cupboard that had the pancake mix with his toes. He was such a boss, goddamn. "Just stay in bed, lil' princess! I know that you probably can't walk or nothin', so ... Be good, yeah?" Aleksei's busy now, whipping bubbles out of the batter and pouring them into one pan, while juggling an effort to cook the bacon. For someone who looked like an incredible bodybuilder, he was a stunning chef. [/style] [style=margin-top: 6px; width: 100px; height:100px; float:right; font-size: 7pt; font-family: calibri; font-weight: bold; text-align: center; border: 5px solid #a9b7bb] [style=background-color: #a9b7bb; padding: 2px]TAG: darling alasair[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; background-color: #a9b7bb; padding: 2px] WORDS[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; background-color: #a9b7bb; padding: 2px]© MOO OF OTE[/style][/style]