- Clasificación: ¿R? Muchas 'malas palabras'.
- Advertencias: ^
- Parejas: John & Paul (Mi primer pseudo intento. Give it a chance?)
- Capítulos: Único.
- Notas: “Mr. Darcy reminds me of you.”
“Paul?”
“Mm?”
“Want a kiss?”
“Mm. Not now.”
“A blowjow? ...At least answer, you bugger.”
“…No, thanks.”
“Sex…?”
“I’m reading, John.”
“I can bring the handcuffs and that big—“
“Doesn’t sound appealing.”
“…”
“…”
“…Paul?”
“Fuck, John. What do you fucking want?”
“…Will you marry me?”
“Mm…No, too talkative. Now shut up.”
“Oh, well, that was it! Go ask that writer to stuck his dick inside you, we’ll see whose name you scream while—“
“It’s Jane Austen, you twat.”
“—having a fucking well-narrated orgasm!”
“…”
“…”
“John?”
“What now, Paul McCunty?”
“Jane Austen’s a girl.”
“…When I thought you couldn’t be queerer.”
“When I thought you couldn’t be more idiot.”
“Me? ...Hey, git, come ‘ere! Where do you think you’re—“
“Ringo’s room. At least he’s silent.”
“Oh, no, no – you’re staying, little bookworm. Come…No, don’t...Caught it!”
“John! Give it back!”
“Don’t think so. Let’s see what we’ve here…”
“GIVE ME THE BOOK!”
"’…The gentlemen pronounced him to be a fine figure of a man. He was looked at with great admiration for about half the evening ’… Fuck, Paul, this is queer, even for you.”
“Lennon, I swear—“
“’Would Mr. Darcy then consider the rashness of your original intention as atoned for by your obstinacy in adhering to it?'…Who wrote this shit? A dinosaur?”
“It’s from 1800. Didn’t expect you to understand it. Now give it back, John.”
“…Didn’t expect me to understand? What do you think I am, Paul, a fucking three-year-old?”
“No. No. I didn’t mean that. Give me the book.”
“You well fucking meant that! The bloody intellectual git thinks he’s better because he reads a prehistoric book for menopausal women—“
“I read it because of you.”
“…What? Oh, c’mon, Paul, don’t try to change the subject here. More or less culturized you know I’d fuck you anyways; don’t act smart when your mouth’s too busy swallowing my dick to form any intelligent word—“
“Mr. Darcy reminds me of you.”
“—and when it’s my turn you can only scream John! John! Joh… Wait, Danny who?”
“Fitzwilliam…Darcy. The…fine figure of a man…”
“…You gotta be kidding me.”
“No. No. We’re… we’re actually a lot like them. You know, Elizabeth and Darcy.”
“Elizabeth.”
“Stop laughing already!”
“ELIZABETH.”
“Fuck you, Lennon. I don’t even know why I bother on telling you—“
“Shushhhhh, Paulie. Quiet. Give us a kiss.”
“…That filthy habit of yours, always thinking that everything can be mended with kisses.”
“Well, love, they don’t say I’ve a quick tongue just because of my witty talking.”
“You whore.”
“Look who’s saying.”
“I wasn’t the one who interrupted his boyfriend’s reading because he needed sex.”
“Oh, Mss. Elizabeth…!”
“—you’re an idiot.”
“…I am utterly sorry, light of my days, warmth of my soul, if I ever gave you that wrong impression! My intentions couldn’t have been more naïve, more innocent, more disinterested—“
“More horny.”
“More decent, more honest!”
“More randy.”
“More cast, my dear Elizabeth, more pure! I was just longing for one of your crimson kisses; as I live with the constant need to feel you near, my lady, to be close to your body in the most unadulterated form!”
“…How do I know if they are sincere, Mr. Darcy, those beauteous words? For I don’t think I deserve them, as I don’t deserve such a magnificent feeling as the passion you profess.”
“You really like this, don’t you, Paulie?”
“I like to make you struggle with your own language.”
“Bitch.”
“C’mon, Johnny! You owe me this one!”
“What? Do you really get horny with…?”
“I promise I’ll let you use the handcuffs.”
“Oh well then! You deserve, dear Elizabeth, even more than my passion! I could not have bestowed it on a more admirable being, not after having met you, my graceful beloved! …Okay, that’s it. This is seriously one of the stupidest things you ever made me do, Paul. What kind of freak fantasies with a character from the fucking 17th century?”
“Okay, don’t do it. But I probably won’t want to suck your bloody dick the next time you--”
“Oh, dear Elizabeth! You bewitched me and I happily fell on your divine spell!”
“…Do you conceive, Mr. Darcy, the impediments of your feeling? Being us from a different social stratum, our union being recognized as unsuitable by our surrenders!”
“Oh, my love, my darling, how it hurts to be incandescently in love! How it burns the ardent flame of the elusive passion! But you are perfectly aware, dear Elizabeth, that our stratums play a lower role, that the reason of the inadequacy of our love is deeper! For well you know that is your hidden dick what’s tearing us apart!”
“…John!!! You were doing it just fine…!!!”
