![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Jun. 22nd, 2020 10:01 amОй, и еще один кофешоп!
Спасибо, но на этот раз я воздержусь. Пейринг Маркус/Беннет/Питер/Томас - немножко чересчур, как по мне
Clean by Adoxography - автор называет это PWP, с тем же успехом это можно назвать херт/комфортом или как угодно еще,у хорошего ребенка много имен))
Marcus has often thought of himself as an empty vessel for God’s will; if this is true then Tomas is a fountain. In the dark, they move together. Tomas’ breath is hot on his cheek and Marcus’ eyes sting.
“Tomas,” he sighs. It is a prayer on his lips. He wants to feel God again, he wants to feel Him the way he did all those years ago, pushing back against the darkness. Tomas is not God -- it would be sacrilege to say otherwise. Tomas is solid and tangible, yet touching him feels like the first time his mind was overwhelmed with that blinding, holy light. It cannot be a sin to feel God like this. Marcus is empty. Tomas fills him.
Punchline by LazyBaker - забавное, дурацкое, очень ласковое; джен или преслэш - мне даже больше нравится думать, что чистый джен.
Tomas stood over him, the act of looking up at him nearly had Marcus start laughing all over again. Gently Tomas placed his hands on Marcus’ face, Marcus stilling immediately and held his breath as Tomas pressed a kiss to his forehead, pulling back to give him a stern look.
“You are a good man, Marcus. If I ever meet this Father Sean I will have some very strong words to say to him.”
And that hurt, somehow. To have someone wade through his shit and still want to stand beside him.
His hands trembled on his lap.
“My hero.” He said, trying for somewhere near sarcastic, but his smile came out crooked and his voice had gone awfully wobbly or drunk beyond repair despite feeling more sober than he’d prefer. “Shots?”
Спасибо, но на этот раз я воздержусь. Пейринг Маркус/Беннет/Питер/Томас - немножко чересчур, как по мне
Clean by Adoxography - автор называет это PWP, с тем же успехом это можно назвать херт/комфортом или как угодно еще,
Marcus has often thought of himself as an empty vessel for God’s will; if this is true then Tomas is a fountain. In the dark, they move together. Tomas’ breath is hot on his cheek and Marcus’ eyes sting.
“Tomas,” he sighs. It is a prayer on his lips. He wants to feel God again, he wants to feel Him the way he did all those years ago, pushing back against the darkness. Tomas is not God -- it would be sacrilege to say otherwise. Tomas is solid and tangible, yet touching him feels like the first time his mind was overwhelmed with that blinding, holy light. It cannot be a sin to feel God like this. Marcus is empty. Tomas fills him.
Punchline by LazyBaker - забавное, дурацкое, очень ласковое; джен или преслэш - мне даже больше нравится думать, что чистый джен.
Tomas stood over him, the act of looking up at him nearly had Marcus start laughing all over again. Gently Tomas placed his hands on Marcus’ face, Marcus stilling immediately and held his breath as Tomas pressed a kiss to his forehead, pulling back to give him a stern look.
“You are a good man, Marcus. If I ever meet this Father Sean I will have some very strong words to say to him.”
And that hurt, somehow. To have someone wade through his shit and still want to stand beside him.
His hands trembled on his lap.
“My hero.” He said, trying for somewhere near sarcastic, but his smile came out crooked and his voice had gone awfully wobbly or drunk beyond repair despite feeling more sober than he’d prefer. “Shots?”
