It was at roughly one in the afternoon when one Malcolm Lestrange reached for his very steaming hot cuppa coffee and by chance of a scattered attention dipped his fingers into the coffee, instead of wrapping them around it. Jerking his hand back in a given ouch, he hissed, and then glanced at his coffee.
“Hot damn, girl, is it just me or are you hot to see me. Ba dun tss.”
Then he rinsed his hand and went about his day.
The sad fact of today was that he actually forgot about his coffee. The bad, naughty girl she was, since naturally it was a she and just as naturally this she was naughty, it apparently wasn’t enough to garner his attention, and between patients and visions of blonde hair, pictured by his overactive imagination as fluttering in a breeze just strong enough to lift said hair, but not quite to whip it around like whatever the fuck was going on on Medusa’s head, giiiirl, get yourself a nice hairdresser, you can do better~
What was the point?
Despite how erotic, aka generally appeasing to his palate the coffee was, today, it wasn’t cutting it. Malcolm’s mind was with sweet, blue eyes and wispy, blonde hair, with the smile on her face, and the sun burning down on her, making her glow golden.
“Mal, are you listening?”
Malcolm looked up at his colleague, innocent in his face.
Said colleague frowned. “Are you okay?”
“Hmm?” Malcolm straightened in his seat, and smiled. He looked down briefly-- and covered the drawing he’d unknowingly doodled at the top of his notes; nobody needed to see soft feminine face that looked very much like the woman he'd just recently met. When he looked up again, there was mischief on his face.
“I’m juuuust fine~”
Several hours later, and once work was after, he was out on a date. A man-date, to be exact, his booty shaking it to the rhythm of RHYTHM IS A DANCER, IT’S A SOUL COMPANION, YOU CAN FEEL IT ANYWHERE--
“Lift your hands and voices, free your mind and join us, you can feel it in the air, oooooh, it's a passion~!”
Malcolm nodded his head vigorously as he sang, his earbuds plugged in and his mood merry. When he made his way to the cafe of their choice, he was still wearing a rather official looking, straight, and long jacket that he’d donned in hopes of beating the recent change in the weather. Damn, when was he going to remember that as a shifter, he actually reacted to heat a bit differently?
He was sweating up a storm but at least he entered his hot man-date as fuck with Gus sporting that lovely, lush, rosy shade to his cheeks like a lusty bitch~ He spotted Gus already waiting for him, and grinned. Then he pocketed his phone, tangled up the earphones that would have gotten all wickedly tangled up anyway, whatever, if you can’t defeat them and all then, and walked on to meet his friend.
Friend. A title they were still working on but if Malcolm was to be honest, it didn’t quite matter to him. Anyone who was a decent person was a friend candidate and if they didn’t prove their value, well, Malcolm didn’t see himself eating sundaes with them. Whatever, life was tough.
(More sundaes for him, yaaasss.)
Greeting Gus in a merry, “Hey”, he pulled up his chair, and shrugged his jacket off, the shirt underneath gorgeously blue and a perfect fit for his blue, bright eyes that were as pale as they were calm. “Been waiting for long?” he asked his friend, his teeth flashing in a grin, and he seated himself then, with a dramatic oomph! to pair with it like goddamn this fucking day, time to put the legs on the table, you know?
That, or like he’d taken a large, thick, twelve-inch big and veiny cock right up his--
“As of today, Annie is a happy member of a Pokemon Go club, and will be joining us riiiiight after we’ve wrapped up our homoerotic shenanigans and finally eloped as we’re meant to. J-K, but we’ll be tots meeting her later~ We have two hours, three if we want to push it, before I have to go pick her from her date with other ambitious seven-year-olds chasing pokemon and what not. You good with that?”
Flashing Gus a friendly grin, he asked again, though before that chuckling almost in embarrassment, as though any part of him actually cared how wonderfully fucking ridiculous he sounded, “Sorry, sorry, one of these days I’ll stop kidding you and I are hot gay sluts wanting to breed or however hot gay sluts actually do address each other aaaaand yes, I might have spent too much time on tumblr last night. The cat pictures spoooke to me~ and next thing I know I am browsing through the darkest parts of the interweeeebs… I might have absolutely not clicked away from all the gross and kept looking. Might have.” Chuckling once again, his expression was of charm and calm as he settled his chin into his hand, and jested once more in the infamous, tame drawl, “Might have.” Fuck his tone. If there was a way to make that happen-- that dulcet shit be the shit, yo. Malcolm kept his focus on Gus, and asked, his tone a warm rumble, “How’re you? How was your day?”