Loft above Luke's, Thursday morning

[lovemykilt]

Cooking shirtless wasn't something Priestly did a whole lot -- anyone who'd ever been spot burned on the pectoral by drops of flying hot oil would understand why -- but the occasion seemed to call for it, this time.

Also, somehow despite the adventures of yesterday, he was still feeling pretty hot and twitchy, so shirtless was definitely the way to go.

"So," he said, flipping a pancake with an expert flick of the skillet -- yes, he was TOTALLY showing off, why do you ask? "How do you like your eggs?"

[ooc: For the lovely lady promised breakfast, and potentially the roommate should he wander in.]

Comments

[lovemykilt]

Right, and now Priestly was imagining other situations in which to make her say that. It probably showed on his face. They were some very vivid imaginings.

[hatesmoststuff.livejournal.com]

Except that would require her to look up from her food, so...

Oh, wait. She was actually doing that. Because right now, April was very intently pondering whether pouncing on Priestly across the table was worth no longer eating these eggs.

You know what, she actually thought it was. So, uh... hi?

[lovemykilt]

Helloooooooo April.

Well, it was nice to have an opportunity to put those imaginings to work.

Priestly fumbled with one hand to make sure the burner of the stove was off, then happily turned all of his attention to the pouncing.

[hatesmoststuff.livejournal.com]

And now Priestly would get to experience - possibly not for the first time - what an 'oh my god, you are the world's greatest chef and make magic with food' kiss was like. Mixed with a sex-pollen kiss. It was very intense, was the main takeaway here.

And it was a good thing April's breakfast wardrobe consisted exclusively of yesterday's shirt and underwear, because yeah, she planned on putting both of their imaginings to work right now.