OK, so inspired by all the... water on this page, a little piffle in honor of shirtless week.

EDIT: Just in case, it's about as SFW as a Gatorade/Sport drink commercial, I suppose...
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Once ensconced in their hideout, Merrill finally couldn’t contain herself anymore. “Hawke, what
is it we’re here to see? Honestly, being this close to the Gallows starts to make my stomach do horrible flipflops that might impact my dinner later. I hope this is worth it.”
Hawke grinned maniacally, glancing at Isabela, who wore a matching grin. “Oh, it will be worth it,” Hawke assured her.
“Hawke,” Aveline started in a censuring tone, “tell already! If we’re caught here, hiding
inside the Templar compound, it will look very bad for all of us. Please tell us this is something important.”
Hawke peeked out again over the courtyard, empty but for the happy trickling of the fountain in its center. “Just a few more minutes. Trust me.” Then, as they watched, a gate opened revealing the templar training yard beyond. Through the gate entered Knight-Captain Cullen who clearly had just completed some kind of exercise, since he was dripping with sweat and had stripped from the waist up.
Merrill gave out a little squeak and Aveline’s eyes got very round. Hawke and Isabela just looked very smug and appreciative, watching the Knight-Captain’s abundant muscles ripple with every step across the courtyard. He stopped at the fountain, sitting down on its rim. He trailed his hand through the water for a moment, and then ran his wet hand over his face and through his hair.
“Now I start to understand,” Merrill said distractedly.
“My loves, you haven’t seen anything yet…” Isabela said cryptically.
As if on cue, Cullen picked up a small bucket sitting next to the fountain and filled it with water. To the delight of his secret admirers, he then proceeded to dump the bucket over his head. The water rolled down his body, sheeting over the firm planes of his chest and making him glisten in the sunlight. Cullen stood up and shook the water out of his hair. Rivulets danced down his face and dripped off his shoulders. His sodden templar skirting clung to his legs.
All four women dissolved into wicked giggling, followed by shushes and reminders to keep quiet.
As they watched him return through the gate, they couldn’t see the twinkle in his eye or hear his soft chuckle.
Modifié par R2s Muse, 07 septembre 2011 - 03:33 .