Disclaimer: I own nothing
Warning! This story is slash so don't read if that isn't your cup of tea
Author note: Written for GTA on former MLAB
He watched the gentle coloring of the soft skin, just slightly touched by dark hair. The delicate curve of a raised eyebrow. Josef sighed. Who was he kidding; he had never been a poet. Back in the day he had only barely managed to scamper by with poorly written poetry only good enough to satisfy the ladies who were more focused on his looks and fortune than his poetry.
Besides, there was nothing in the tall frame he was watching now that would fit the almost feminine description. No indeed, there was nothing remotely feminine about Mick St John. The most fitting description of that man would be sex on legs, if there ever was such a thing. Though, how sex could walk on legs, Josef would never quite understand but if ever there was a man that description would fit, it was Mick St John.
At this very moment, he was sizzling. The air around him vibrated with lust. Josef only lamented the fact all that lovely raw lust and desire wasn't directed at him, it was directed at the female in his arms. The new Mrs. St John. Her body moving seductively against the hard and tall frame of Mick. How Josef envied her that closeness. The freedom to move her hands over the hard planes of that chest. Or allow her fingers to move through the thick curls on his head.
Most of all, he envied her the chance to be the recipient of such desire. Such intensity of emotions and lust. The chance to feel Mick take you in his strong arms and just take you. Claim you as his. Josef could imagine the feeling. The rush it would be to have Mick grab him and unleash all that lust, all that pent-up desire on him. The harshness of his lips against his own. The hard grip of Mick's hands on his arms, pulling him roughly closer as they both devoured each other's mouths. Finally releasing everything that had been denied for so long.
He closed his eyes, envisioning the next move. How he would coax Mick toward the couch while Mick ripped his clothes off, something he would berate him for after it was an Armani after all. He would eagerly rip those generic and yet incredibly sexy clothes off of Mick and finally get to touch his skin. Get to see him in all his glory.
Josef knew without a doubt, Mick would be big. No question. He almost growled as he imagined Mick standing naked in front of him, taking in the sight of him naked while Josef basked in all the glory of finally getting to see Mick without his clothes. Then the moment would pass and they would be grabbing each other, impatient to be close. Impatient to feel the touch of the other.
He would finally be allowed to touch Mick as he had always wanted to. Feel his muscles play under his palms as they moved over his skin. Feel Mick's hands moving over his skin. Mick would kiss him as if ravenous and of course be eager and moving almost too fast. His inexperience showing in his swift and almost abrupt moves but the pent-up lust would more than suffice to help Josef keep his pace.
They would clamber to get close to each other, to touch as much of the other as possible at the same time. He could feel Mick's hardness against his own; the intensity of the feeling almost making him think the fantasy was real. But only almost. Just as Mick's hand took hold of him and he finally got to touch Mick's length, his most whimsical freshie touched his arm to claim his attention. He growled in frustration as the fantasy vaporized and he looked down at the pretty face in disgust. He really needed freshies with more of a brain and infinitely more self-preservation. With a snarl he sent her away and returned his attention to the happy couple on the dance floor.
They had, of course, not noticed anything. Were lost in their happy little world and Josef sighed, turning away in defeat. He would have to continue to hide his desire beneath the mask of snark, waiting in the wings for Mick to maybe one day feel the same.