Angel/Wes, spork
Sep. 7th, 2004 06:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gilascavedrabble for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
moonlettuce
Angel held it in front of his face, staring intently. The expression on his face was one of deep concentration, as though in another moment the hidden meaning would come clear and mystical things would be brought forth.
"It's...a spork."
Wesley nodded, patiently.
"And the call it that because...."
He'd forgot this part already. "Because it's part fork, part spoon. Angel, it's just a piece of plasticware."
Angel frowned. "But it isn't. It isn't a fork or a spoon. It's...neither. You can't eat soup with it, and the tines are too short to stab anything."
Wesley rolled his eyes. "Complain to the inventor, then. Or to the millions of Americans who seem to find no difficulty at all in using them."
"But--" He was still frowning, and Wesley could tell that he would worry about it until he'd either solved the problem or become distracted.
"Angel, do you think you could put the spork away and come over here to stick your cock in my arse?"
Angel dropped the plastic spork onto the floor, hands going to his waistband to undo his trousers, even as he was still registering Wesley's words.
"You...I what? Yes? OK."
Wesley laid back on the bed, nodding. "Much better."
moonlettuceAngel held it in front of his face, staring intently. The expression on his face was one of deep concentration, as though in another moment the hidden meaning would come clear and mystical things would be brought forth.
"It's...a spork."
Wesley nodded, patiently.
"And the call it that because...."
He'd forgot this part already. "Because it's part fork, part spoon. Angel, it's just a piece of plasticware."
Angel frowned. "But it isn't. It isn't a fork or a spoon. It's...neither. You can't eat soup with it, and the tines are too short to stab anything."
Wesley rolled his eyes. "Complain to the inventor, then. Or to the millions of Americans who seem to find no difficulty at all in using them."
"But--" He was still frowning, and Wesley could tell that he would worry about it until he'd either solved the problem or become distracted.
"Angel, do you think you could put the spork away and come over here to stick your cock in my arse?"
Angel dropped the plastic spork onto the floor, hands going to his waistband to undo his trousers, even as he was still registering Wesley's words.
"You...I what? Yes? OK."
Wesley laid back on the bed, nodding. "Much better."