(no subject)

[elinorwise]

Red Sting of Fate by archea2, винцест, спанкинг, без секса в кадре, но с любовью)
У автора очень богатый английский, я себя чувствую так, будто поделала упражнений на растяжку, бат ин э гуд вей 

The long reconnoitring from Sam’s hand has blurred the spanks into an all-over flush. Color field, he was taught in that American Art class. Each of Dean’s buttocks a field of solid pink stained into the flesh. And one of Sam’s hands hot and lancing. But his and Dean’s excitement still on its momentum track - and then, with brusque clarity, Sam sees it. It comes to him as his visions used to, but on a crest of brilliance instead of pain.
He starts again, but instead of resuming his alternative jog between one cheek and another, he hits the same spot once, twice, next, again. The spot turns a deeper pink, turns a pale crimson. He can hear Dean breathing heavily as he does every time they’ve run for dear life, and he nearly  stops there, only for Dean’s voice to stop him from stopping. “Do it,” Dean growls, a husky dictate. “Do it. Mark me, Sam.”
Then it all overflows, Sam’s heart, Sam’s groin, even as he slaps the resonant cheek. This, this. This? For Dean too? Whose shoulder was swollen with another's handprint, whose arm bore another's mark. Dean never got possessed, but he got handled all right, got branded, gripped, tattoed, tortured, touched, touched, touched. Time for Sam to balance the claims.

Выделено мной, я эту пару строчек вообще хочу сложить в коробочку, бережно хранить и открывать по праздникам под бокал вина)) Просто потому, что я обожаю вот такие авторские находки.
Оригинал записи на Дыбре