You unbutton your shirt and he smirks at the Ghostbusters tee shirt underneath, but huddles in all the same. The shirt thing was meant to be a romantic gesture, a makeshift umbrella (even though who were you kidding, it was too late for his hair) but it doesn’t work quite as smoothly as you thought because he’s too tall. Still, he’s there, hunched over and pressed underneath your arm, all the same. You run the last block home and burst through the front door, soaking wet, giggling, madly in love.
my magnum opus
the use of color in this is so wonderful
(via hot-yaois-with-john-and-dave)
Quelle: zeborah
