#i heard bill bikini pin up art

[nuttyinternetsheep]

I drew Bill "Goldilocks" Cipher from chapter 70 of @ckret2 's AMAZING fic. (Go read it!) It's been a while since the beach episode was posted but that can't stop me from drawing billkini!

[maxbradley]

Back Into the Fray

Quiet students filtered through the criss-crossed paths, heads bowed low, peering into parchment. Some read while others took notes. A couple of professors, one stout and one tall, indulged in Tchaikovsky within their noise-cancelling padding at the music appreciation booth. The only sounds were of that of the flipping of pages and the skritch-scratch of ballpoint pens and mechanical pencils, and the occasional click of the due date stamp and stapler. Underneath the high ceiling roof of the mundane conundrum, the college library was having one of its better days. A shady area housed three individuals, two hunched over their homework assignments upon the long desk while the other laid back in the cushioned armchair reading the latest issue of Sports Illustrated: Swimsuit Edition. "Look, Bobby, you're just as behind on your work as I am—and you haven't missed a single class!" "Wassah?" The dog took a gloved hand and lowered his blue-tinted shades, as if he never knew. "Don't play dumb!" Max hissed, keeping his voice low enough to not disturb the study of others. PJ looked away from his notebook and nodded his head in agreement before speaking, "At this rate you might as well get kicked out." Bobby groaned and covered his face with the 2-page pin-up of a voluptuous lady clad in a polka dot bikini, "But it's so boring, Economics." "At least get the first five chapters and then we could hang out at the café— "Or go out to the club— The black dog let out a smirk, "That works too, but hurry it up—I'm starving!" "Fine!" The magazine lay on the cushion as the lazy boy rummaged through his pack to take out the crumpled packets. … "Oh man—Peej, did we have to get that book too?" "Yeah. Go look for it in the Reference Section and make some photocopies; here," handing Max a five-dollar bill. He was about to protest when his best friend raised a hand, "use it." "Thanks, Peej.." ***** Goof Boy sighed as he browsed through rows upon rows of dusty covers, trying to find that book assigned for the class to buy weeks earlier. He would have stuck around for those classes, if it hadn't been for that "little incident" in the locker room… "Just my luck," through grit teeth. It had been a month after they crashed together. All Max could remember before fainting from exhaustion was being laid out on the narrow wooden bench, feeling himself clothed by the man that nearly killed him. He was able to catch a glimpse of the crimson liquid as it flowed down the metal grill, but was too tired at the time to feel sick to his stomach— And his voice. So gentle— "Max." Too familiar. Breathing stopped for a millisecond before the boy wheeled around and glared into sapphire orbs. All of a sudden the dust in the air smelled of musk. Maximilian caught himself in the last second before shouting out an obscenity, biting his tongue down.

Never did Bradley realize that they were practically the same height. It was hard to look down on the naïve individual—this supposed "good kid" on campus. Already a tinge of envy flushed his cheeks, showing red. Max felt something catch in his dry throat. Both had to look away at a wall, shelf or something to distract from this awkward first encounter after that strange afternoon. Painful seconds went by before the white dog looked down in front of the kid and cleared his throat, "How've you been?" "Terrible." "You sure about that?" "Positive." Brad growled, "Can you stop answering in one-word sentences??" "No." Deadpan look. The jock furrowed his brows closer together and raised shaking fists before shutting his eyes, and taking a good, long breath. He swore he heard a chuckle from the other guy's throat, only augmenting his frustration, "Max." as the hot air escaped him, "I just want to know if you're doing better. That's all I need to know. If you don't want to talk, I understand! I'll leave you alone— "Then why the hell are you here?!" Louder hiss— "Actually, Max, I want to know, if… " Bradley trailed off on his words as a classmate of theirs strutted by, the girl's hips swaying—She wasn't alone. The dark-skinned chick was followed by a couple others, equally attractive. Max couldn't help but follow Brad's gaze, but was left in his spot as the senior caught up to the chatter and began to work his black magic. In a matter of minutes the students were giggling madly, blush attacking their cheeks. Bradley didn't even have to touch them. His gentlemanly demeanor made them putty in his hands, "Why don't you all come over to the Gamma House tomorrow night? We're holding your typical frat party. Bring some more of your friends along, won't you? You lovely ladies~" He slipped them his personal business card and both males stared after their departure. Brad turned around to catch Max leaning against the shelf, mouth hanging wide open in astonishment, "How--? You just—Heh??" loss for words, The guy laughed aloud—"Shh!" from the other side of the towering wall of books—"Jealous much??" Max just looked at him, dumbfounded… "May… be?" "Well, ha, don't be. You're not a chick, are you?" "I'm not a chick!" Max's face flared with pink when his stomach doubled over and growled. Lunchtime wasn't too far off. Grateful that the ice was broken, Bradley chuckled into his loose fist and got straight to his offer, "Do you want to hang out later, tonight?" Goof was taken aback by this brash approach; the pink went a couple of shades darker before he felt a twinge within the denim cover, throwing his cheeks into a red color. And still hungry. "I, gotta go." Max was about to run away before he groaned, "I couldn't find the book I was looking for dammit!" Holding up a slip of paper in his rival's face. A thumb and finger ripped it away from his grasp and before the boy knew it he had a weight thrown into his fumbling hands. Pages fluttered before the cover slammed the hard thin carpet. "You're welcome." The senior whirled around and left him there kneeling to pick up the required Economics text. When Max knew that the man had exited the scene, he began to pant wildly, quietly. His arms shook violently, and he did everything in his power to control the blood rush flowing through his being: A bead of sweat rolled down his damp forehead, and he wiped it off just as quick. So maybe he wasn't feeling oh so terrible, after all. "Max-a-million! Where'd you die off to??" The glove brushed through the black hair; the boy regained all sanity and smiled sheepishly at his friends, "Don't worry guys— It took forever to find this stupid book!" ***** "Do you want to 'hang out'?? What the hell… " Max echoed to himself and felt a chill go down his spine on this early September night. Homecoming wasn't too far off. "Whatever." Taking his gloves and rubbing his bare arms for warmth, slowly shifting his weight forward on the dark Frat Row street, sneakers kicking loose pieces of the cracked asphalt. The crunch of gravel was almost soothing as he attempted to filter his downright stupidity for even thinking to walk around these parts of the college town. Max Goof felt guilty for cutting his party with the guys short, telling them through the booming stereo and the strobe lights that he had, apparently, more homework to do. They won't be back at the dorm anytime soon. The house loomed over him in a black silhouette, the full moon glaring down on its peaked roof. Like some haunted mansion. He shuddered. The wooden planks creaked with each careful step. He held his breath as he faced the slab separating him from his living hell. The unsure hand curled onto itself. Max took a breath as if diving into a pool, shut his eyes and tightened the fist. Then, the weight came down. "Don't bother." The silence shattered. The boy almost cracked his neck to see a flash of red that disappeared within the orbs and darkened features of his predator, "So, you really want this, don't you?" A devilish smirk. "You almost gave me a heart attack!" The other hyperventilating. "Aren't you a little young to have that?" "Shut up!" A practical yell. Bradley burst laughing in good health, "If we were friends, I'd say you're the funniest one I've had!" What is wrong with this freak?! A manly pat on the back took on a firm grip, "Come on in~" The door opened with ease; practically open. Maximilian took this precious time to scan the whole house; they walked at a normal pace. He spotted a billiard table, an unlit fireplace and mantle, a mirror, their coat of arms. Everything was coated in thick shadows; no one seemed to be here. Eerie. The path separated into two hallways. The boy lost his sense of direction. Pretty soon the two went up a flight of grand stairs, scarlet and velvet and a shine of pale yellow in the moonlight, "Is this gold?" Gloves ran a finger on the railing as he whispered in awe. "Easily impressed—like a child, I see." The dog blushed in embarrassment, "I'm not a child." "Don't lie to me, kid—you might have gone nuts the last time but I can still see your innocent self," "What?" Max frowned, "I don't remember that." Bradley seemed a little confused himself, "Well, yeah, don't you—?" he coughed violently as if erasing over what he just said, "—Does your head still hurt, Max?" " . . . It's fine." A heavy silence hung over their heads when they reached the end of the bedroom hall, in front of dark double doors, etched with a plethora of carvings—symbols. Thousands of eyes stared the couple down from the thick wood. Columns on both sides of the door touched the ceiling, frilling out at the top in the form of wings—intricate, and overpowering. The largest eye radiated with the glitter of gold dust with elegance, a menace. Above everything . . . "This is…” - hating to sound feminine as the boy's eyes drank this work of art in, "beautiful." "Dangerous." Two strong hands pushed the barrier open. Bradley didn't even wait for the doors to close—Grabbing a rough hold around the boy's waist, the other hand thrust into Max's shirt and rubbed up, down his sides, back, chest— The nipples hardened through the black fur, "Bradley!— "You're mine." A deep growl—dark and sensual; Max jolted with ecstasy despite his mental protests, "stop—!" Already sweating, the jock removed his thick sweater and began to unbutton a crisp, super-thin work shirt with such fervor, "Take it off!—"What?!" "Off!" Going into the sophomore's neck and taking a forceful tongue to the shoulder blade, within— "Brad”—a playful bite, "Bradley!" he breathed. Panting wildly, Max saw bare fingers exposed when his personal enemy removed the glove. Ebony took the bottom of his pale red top and raised it up and over his head while the other, shirt open, began to suck mercilessly on his collarbone, letting his own hands run rampant across the boy's damp chest, down his abdomen.—"Oh!" growling on his own. Bradley grabbed his ass before raising his legs against the closed door and let his kisses travel wherever bare flesh resided; the deepest kiss within Max's navel—Calloused hands thrust onto the jock's head and pulled at his hair in tight fists pushing inward to his skull—All at once Max heard a crazed voice within him, Crush it. Before the command carried out, he let out a groan when something pressed against the bulge in his jeans—The young man bit through the rough material at something hard and quivering— "F—Fu—!" Max couldn't even finish his cursing—The man under him began to suck harder through the denim, "Moan." "Godda—"Do it!!" "No!" Max bit his lip and belted out a scream—"I said do it—kid!" "NO!" Bellowing and letting a fist slam onto Brad's head— The senior convulsed in rage and tore away from the wall, letting the kid take a hard fall on his rear end— "Ow! Brad, what the hell—!" Shoulders pinned against the wall, "Max. You wanna have a good time? You play nice. And I'll give you a good time." The boy glared at his contorted expression; throat scratched to gather up enough saliva to spit in the leader's face—"You play, breaking the rules, and I'll give you a rough screwover—You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Last couple of words a harsh whisper. Max paled and choked a bit on the mouth's acid as he swallowed it down. " . . . I don't. I-I'll, play”—hating himself for saying this—"nice." Brad removed the shirt completely, "Good." A sudden smile escaped his lips and the other shuddered—being carried up in fleshed strong arms like a woman to bed— A woman. Max's dignity shot to the ground—"Stop that! Let me go—Brad!!" Flailing arms fisting his chin trying to crush the jaw— "Dammit, Max!" Eyes wild—"You're not making this easy for either one of us!" "Well then I guess this is a good thing!" He spat. The jock grit his teeth madly and rather threw him into the sheets— Blood red, luxurious, silken sheets—"Max! You're such a bitch!" Yelling at his face, which reverted back to that deadpan look, "That makes two of us." Lip curled. The white dog leered over the other, who sat himself up to maintain equal eye level—Both glared into each other's pupils, one with damaged pride; the other with a latent wrath… Minutes trudged on in the muck of their hatred for each other… Yet, at the same time… "You're such a stubborn bitch." "Thank you." letting out a sigh. Bradley's eyelids closed halfway, taking a hand through his own hair, and then brushed though Max's, fingers smoothly running down that floppy ear. The fingers cupped his chin, gentle. Silent. Their frowns stayed in place; but then slowly loosened—relaxed, even.  As lips moved closer together Max had to look away, behind him, embarrassed. The lids of both males drooped filtering out any light, the dim light cast upon them in an ominous glow. Their world went black when tissue made contact, softly. Max didn't know why, but he felt almost safe in this isolation. He kissed back, holding on to Bradley's bottom lip— The jock felt a hot rush to his cheeks and tilted his head, twisting his neck to get past the muzzle and into the crevice… The enemies could not restrain themselves any longer—"Max!" The senior took a deep breath of oxygen and thrust his tongue within the boy's mouth, he doing the same—both faces flared with scarlet. The dog leaned forward, dragging Max up the bed—pressing his leg right on the crotch, bending it even more to rest upon the stomach. The boy let a hand rest within the sandy brown keratin, his own hair tousled, while the other rested at his side, leaving Uppercrust to do whatever he wished. The kiss ended. Max finally opened his eyes to a sane man, who was blushing all the while as the saliva gooped down his chin. He wiped it off and, breathing shallow, planted a small peck upon his compromised lover's forehead, beading with sweat. Tan fingers trailed down the boy's face, aching neck, breast and navel and upon the zipper—Max let out a shaky sigh as he heard the fabric being pried open, "Unbutton it for me." Goof Boy did just that. "Now mine… unzip. Slip 'em off as far as you can." If it hadn't been for the threat earlier, the black dog wouldn't have been so subservient. Bradley suddenly pulled the jeans down, underwear and all, peeled them off Max's ankles and feet and threw them off the king-sized mattress— "Hey!" Careful not to raise his voice as he saw himself exposed to his rival, who licked his lips hungrily. Pink burned the other dog's cheek, "Brad…" A long, thin finger stroked the length of the throbbing organ, down the sacs, and back up again, with the whole hand petting the tamed animal down, "Bradley." Biting his lip to suppress a moan. The stray appendages went lower, closing in to that familiar entrance—"please stop." A tiny whimper as Max dug his own fingers into the bed sheets, controlling an emerging aggravation. "I'm such a tease!" Giggling to himself, the young man finally took off his own pants and boxers. That last time, Max never bothered to check out his "friend's" package—Blushing madly, he had to look away and cough into a woven fist—Everything about his rival's body was arousing, perverted. Hanging around with PJ and Bobby for so long, he forgot what an ideal man looked like; to not have an ounce of fat in his anorexic gut. Brad could write an entire ode—an essay—on the boy's wide hips, at the same time sporting a lovely, slender waist and toned, strong legs. Had he not known any better, he would have thought that he was about to fuck a girl! He had to stop himself from coming at the very idea. The face he made the boy giggle, "pfft! Ha haha!”—delving into his dad's famous chuckle— Agh! "goddammit!" Sweat flew a mile's radius as he clamped his mouth shut! The senior got startled at first, then broke into a good humored smile, laughing at his new friend's blunder, "Cute!" "I'm not cute!" "You're sexy, then!" "What??" It took them a whole minute to calm themselves down. As they controlled their breathing Max had sat up and leaned his head onto Brad's shoulder. This surprised him; he expected a tight wound fist. Unsure of what to do next, an arm hesitantly raised itself, curling and uncurling fingers until they hovered over Max and rested on the side of the neck. "What now?" Goof Boy asked. The dominant nature of the young man returned. He twisted his neck in the direction of the voice and gave Max a kiss on the cheek, "Make a wish on the Morning Star… and close your eyes."