Porcelain Dresden Lace Figurines

[Cook / Freddie / JJ] The chest of tumors and forty of your hearts.

Title: casket of tumors and hearts of your forty
Author: S. (~ Changingroom chiododabara ~ zeroschiuma )
Readers: stamp orange
Chapters: 1 ;
Characters: Skins ~ Cook, Freddie, JJ;
Pairing: slash ~ Cook / Cook and Freddie / Freddie / JJ;
Features: one-shot;
Plot: when he is alone, Freddie realizes what JJ and Cook are important.
Disclaimer: the characters of which I speak are not my own (but basically those who want them?) Ficwriter's job is to fantasize, right?, Just for fun.
Quote: - My friend, in the last hours I only have one thing in mind - he said, approaching the generator of electricity.




Their evenings lasted until late at night, time seemed to expand forever, in the shed, since when they were children. It was not a coincidence that, when they were asked how they knew, they knew not give a precise answer.
When they went away when the mother of JJ stopped to ask what time would be back and raised his voice requiring him to return and that is precisely the exact moment in which Cook had just pee in the bottle emergency - then and only then, when it was left all alone with the stereo still on, playing cards scattered on the coffee table and matches and maps at random on the floor, he thought about Freddie.
how his life would be without them?

It was the smell that you would have attributed to that of a woman. It is the smell that you would like to hold the chest up in the morning. It did not seem even the smell of a human being, to think of it.
was animalistic and sensual, elegant and graceful and almost at the same time brutal, virile. Among his hair and biting his bony shoulders, descending slowly in the hollow soft navel, in the folds of the thighs, round and clear in the flesh of his buttocks violent floods: Freddie posasse everywhere, the smell of that body could dazed and confused, troubled him.
And every time like the first was repeated between the kisses
- Do you believe me? Your smell is addictive.
- Toxic disgusting - would be the answer.

In the late afternoon sun through the windows of the shed as a challenge, JJ caught sleeping on the couch dirty with chocolate mousse and lubricant, the empty beer bottles resting on the floor, the clock stopped on the six and ten years The red horn charms, souvenirs of a school trip of a lifetime, will remark Cook's body lying on a rug next to the library, a picture of a Halloween past to watch his dreams with open eyes, amazed eyes Freddie reddened by the smoke, his hands resting on his knees. Overcrowding unsustainable abstract thoughts in his head. There on the coffee table
abortion of a rainbow made from plastic straws, for those drinks that are given to children at parties and the Mc Donald, JJ was the kind of person who, if able, can build anything with any material. And likewise can destroy anything with only the help of those same hands. Cook stood up, poor and naive irony together - scary - in the eyes of a child.
- My friend, in the last hours I only have one thing in mind - he said, approaching the generator of electricity. He has only a small lever to operate the stereo stopped putting the voice of Kelly Jones to their ears. The sun would have fallen short and all around the room was already immersed in an almost blinding blue violet - the place looked almost beautiful, in the dim light, the smile JJ metal to make fun of their movements. Infinite number of thoughts and still gets busy, crazy claustrophobic obsessive perverse, in the minds of Freddie.
- tell me what happens? - Ventured: a Cook asked no questions, especially if skin is fear responses.
- I have a plan - he whispered.
She gave him a bite on the lips, as if to eat it.

and hands and skin and the smell and the accuracy of concrete nails into the flesh and spasms and then orgasm, orange, a golden flower to explode between the thoughts of Freddie. And JJ's eyes, now open, to look into the darkness of the shed the source of sighs and slaps and bites and sound almost embarrassing testicles banging against her buttocks and teeth that deform the flesh and kisses that come back hungry from all movement of the pelvis of Cook who takes the body of Freddie. What
suddenly stops thinking.

- I think I have taken virtually every natural and synthetic drug on the market: this is better.
- In your opinion is wrong? - Says the voice of JJ
- Of course not, Gay J. - Whispered a mouth in the dark, with the voice of Cook.
- I was saying, because if it were to end, here, yes, I miss you.
- And here comes the shit Double J. romantic!
- We talked about a billion times, JJ - said Freddie, chasing a thought - this is sex. And 'what we do. What we feel, however, is affection. We are friends . And this is over, JJ, it is obvious that it will end.
At that moment, here, the skein of thoughts Freddie emerged, scary, fear that he had just said something that, on balance, did not believe.
In his hands the members of the two people he loved most in the world next throbbing climax - and it was everything he ever wanted.
- I love you.
bows his head, JJ, almost regretted what he had just said, rehabilitating the power plant and turning on the light on their naked bodies in half.
- Are you gay, JJ, and resign yourself to see us well on Piscino angels and acquaintances have died in accidents - Cook laughed, lighting a cigarette, his pants down to his ankles.

We think when they go away. How would
without them? How will without them? When Cook will be tired of their favorite game, when JJ will find a sweet intelligent girl to love forever? How will he do?


Notesse: cieo! The notes bore me, fuck it, but there is no need for me to say something about this one-shot: clarity, transparency things.
One, I just won a literary award and are happy Shalala, but writing this story was a figment, why M. (cieo, 'more!) I had specifically asked (a mo' allowance, LOL) that within the narrative there were the following: a corniciello luck, a generator of electricity and a rainbow made of straws. Needless to say I enjoyed it as' na fool in elementary school, but ok. It 's the first time that I write for the fandom of Skins series 3-4: first, when I was chiododaBara , I wrote about pairing Tony / Maxxie, then abandoned the fandom, I do not remember exactly why (or maybe yes?). However, the OT3 here is a must. It is no coincidence that I am (since time immemorial, LOL) writing a novel about three things, full-time commitment that takes my fancy and desire to live. But we move on to serious things, the end of papiello. The title and
one of the sentences handed down by Cook are excerpts from the (wonderful) piece foil Vasco Brondi aka Lights of power - I would say that there is a reason why I chose this text, but I'd be lying then, hey, let me know what you think and have a nice day! Adieu