просто навынос. четкая, яркая картинка, бьет по глазам. i wish it was true.
Caught up. SH/GL. In English
Title: Caught Up
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC, 2010)
Pairing: Sherlock/Lestrade
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss, and the BBC, and the estate of Arthur Conan Doyle. I’m just playing with them.
Rating: NC17
Spoilers: None in particular
Summary: PWP: When they got back to Lestrade's flat.
Coats discarded, shirts open and pushed aside, closer, skin - heat smooth hard - and then lips battling. Pushing for dominance, fingers trailing across chest, mapping out a body under him, skittering across a nipple while placing a sucking kiss at the shoulder, biting lightly at the neck.
Touching, ripping open shirt from long arms, surveying pale pale hard lines of energy, before being dragged down into eyes and lips and drowning in scent and taste and feel.
Fumbling, jerking away, tearing cloth from skin and instantly forgetting because now it's skin to skin, hot pressing hard heat, nails scratching lightly and making lines on his back when lips envelop nipple, tongue darting out to meet it, swirling, probing, sucking, teeth grazing.
Up, off, searching, scrambling across acres of soft cotton, reaching for - as lips turn on him, hands stroking and grasping and teeth nipping at his hip. A sound, a cap popping, and then slick cold and slippery soft running through fingers, warming and coating cooling hard heat.
Gliding over skin and stroking slightly, into tight heat oh so tight. Tongue following, lapping at finger edge and stretching tongue tasting metal tang. Hoarse whispers from above, moving, meeting, mouth hungry and touching up up meeting jaw. Hands searching, stroking, pinning wrist. Knees urging legs apart, body forming to body, rutting and then nudging into tight hot heat surrounding...
"Christ."
Slowing. Everything coming to a. Stop. Sound. Stops.
For a moment, there is only this. Only seeing stretched out, wrung out, hair falling, curling, eyes flutter, mouth - lip caught in, caught up, teeth.
Then - movement, action feeling touch taste smell sound sight! Glorious movement, friction, gliding motion. Hands move, brining wrist to mouth, open kiss and teasing long fingers. Buried in hair, collapsing, lips at jaw, mouthing.
Faster now, harder, losing self moment everything. Only feeling. Only sight, touch, taste. Only sound.
A cry. Ripped from a throat. Can't tell what who.
Hand pushing between bodies, wrapping around hard moving with moving. Catch eye - face to face, eye to eye, seeing all and then -
Nothing. Everything. All things and absence at once.
Breathing. Chest rising, pushed back by another. Sticky warmth cooling quick against belly, chest. Panting sighing murmurs.
Chest to chest, forehead to forehead. Bracing for one moment. Slipping slowly out, winces.
Gathering, arranging, limbs in order. Breathing.
"Hush."
Two phones, on the bedside table, the only witness.
@темы:
вынос мозга,
wow wow wow wow,
because you need me. - yes i do.,
шх/гл,
фак мой мозг,
slash
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17.11.2010 в 23:33