"Smooth", rated PG/K+

Someone upstairs had to hate him, he mused, gaze locked on the wet tip of tongue pushed flat against a bright red straw. Leon shifted in his seat as plum colored flesh parted, the plastic catching on the down curve of top lip, before vanishing with a satisfied sigh; the straw turning blood red, and a slight flush arising on the delicate face, eyes closed in contentment as juice filled his mouth.

The Count groaned, "Leon, you simply must try one of these fruit smoothies." His glazed eyes alighting on the blushing, twitchy cop.

"No thanks, I prefer straight beer."

Loosely inspired by Challenge 271.

Word Count: 100 (go me, two times in a row)