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riptide_asylumTitle: "Advanced Acoustic Analysis of Private Investigator Team Dynamics in King Harbor"
Rating: R
Summary: Sometimes, Murray likes to listen. But he also knows when not to.
Murray Bozinsky was a quick study at, well, at just about everything actually, that's sort of what the term "genius" implies, but in the past three years he'd become an especially quick study at knowing when to leave his two best friends alone.
He's learned all the signs. For example, Cody has an expression that's somewhere between a grimace and a smirk--the French term is moue, meaning pout, incidentally--which he combines with a tilted eyebrow to let Nick know when he's thinking about bending Nick over the table and---what? Oh yes, the two of them are more than roommates. Much more.
And incidentally, finding out about the table was a regrettable incident which Murray considers a well-learned lesson in distinguishing which noises are and are not part of the infrastructure of a pleasure cruiser. Pleasure cruiser. Ha! That's pretty funny. Anyway, now Murray tries to make sure he listens well as he moves around the boat. And to make a lot of noises himself, so they know he's coming.
Actually, they rarely know when Murray's coming, alone in his den of hardwired electronics and state-of-the-art surveillance equipment. Murray likes to listen to Nick and Cody together, when they're being tender with each other--sheets moving slowly across skin, groans restrained by teeth, urgent whispers and soft, contented laughter. He likes to listen when they need each other badly--frantic zippers, desperate fumbling, furniture breaking...when it's so good that they forget to be quiet entirely and make the mikes whine with feedback.
It's very delicate listening equipment, you see.
There was video too, but it's harder to synch up with the sound and besides, most of the time Murray likes to close his eyes and imagine the pictures for himself, hearing the two people he loves most on this earth (sorry Baba) finally being together the best way they know how, the way they were meant to be. The way they struggled with for entirely too long, based on his studies of long-term friendships that turned into romantic relationships, and the average time it took for the crossover to occur. Way too long.
Of course, he turns the receiver off afterwards, when they're nuzzling close to one another and start talking about other things: work, girls, him.
There's just some things you're not supposed to know.
Rating: R
Summary: Sometimes, Murray likes to listen. But he also knows when not to.
Murray Bozinsky was a quick study at, well, at just about everything actually, that's sort of what the term "genius" implies, but in the past three years he'd become an especially quick study at knowing when to leave his two best friends alone.
He's learned all the signs. For example, Cody has an expression that's somewhere between a grimace and a smirk--the French term is moue, meaning pout, incidentally--which he combines with a tilted eyebrow to let Nick know when he's thinking about bending Nick over the table and---what? Oh yes, the two of them are more than roommates. Much more.
And incidentally, finding out about the table was a regrettable incident which Murray considers a well-learned lesson in distinguishing which noises are and are not part of the infrastructure of a pleasure cruiser. Pleasure cruiser. Ha! That's pretty funny. Anyway, now Murray tries to make sure he listens well as he moves around the boat. And to make a lot of noises himself, so they know he's coming.
Actually, they rarely know when Murray's coming, alone in his den of hardwired electronics and state-of-the-art surveillance equipment. Murray likes to listen to Nick and Cody together, when they're being tender with each other--sheets moving slowly across skin, groans restrained by teeth, urgent whispers and soft, contented laughter. He likes to listen when they need each other badly--frantic zippers, desperate fumbling, furniture breaking...when it's so good that they forget to be quiet entirely and make the mikes whine with feedback.
It's very delicate listening equipment, you see.
There was video too, but it's harder to synch up with the sound and besides, most of the time Murray likes to close his eyes and imagine the pictures for himself, hearing the two people he loves most on this earth (sorry Baba) finally being together the best way they know how, the way they were meant to be. The way they struggled with for entirely too long, based on his studies of long-term friendships that turned into romantic relationships, and the average time it took for the crossover to occur. Way too long.
Of course, he turns the receiver off afterwards, when they're nuzzling close to one another and start talking about other things: work, girls, him.
There's just some things you're not supposed to know.
