Overture
overture
Supernatural
Sam/Dean
100 words
adult content: sexuality
Soft, on his lip, it bounces. Fuzzy apricot peach, earthgrown sweet. Like a sunseeking root, he stretches, with the tip of the tongue, to taste; riding the divide, to the hidden hollow. Secret opening. Down again, downy skin, nocked to the shape of him; to nestle, fit. Home, in that unknown, unguessed-at, deltic puzzlepiece. He gathers saliva from the well beneath his tongue to wet, lap; pink darting arrowshape to quivering arrowshape. Wet, taut strings, slacken, bend, and break: he gives, and his brother gives back in liquid mimicry. Thin and slippery, overripe; swollen and tender fruit, ready to fall.
