Feb 28, 2009 05:56
Welcome to Saturday
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prompts: movie related,
fandoms: smallville,
fandoms: stargate sg-1,
prompts: rps: lotrips,
fandoms: lotr,
prompts: original,
fandoms: burn notice,
prompts: music & lyrics,
fandoms: doctor who,
prompts: crack,
prompts: rps: misc,
fandoms: ncis,
prompts: supernatural,
prompts: rps: cw rps,
prompts: threesomes,
fandoms: boondock saints,
prompts: het: bsg rpf,
prompts: slash,
prompts: kink/fetish,
prompts: schmoop,
fandoms: criminal minds,
fandoms: firefly,
fandoms: dark angel,
fandoms: pysch,
prompts: rps: sga/sg-1,
fandoms: being human,
prompts: free for all,
fandoms: csi,
fandoms: numb3rs,
fandoms: btvs/ats,
prompts: rps: bsg,
fandoms: chuck,
prompts: au,
fandoms: the sentinel,
fandoms: torchwood,
prompts: het: misc rpf,
prompts: het: cw rpf,
fandoms: stargate atlantis,
prompts: heroes,
prompts: comics,
prompts: het: lotr rpf,
fandoms: leverage,
fandoms: reaper,
fandoms: bones,
fandoms: battlestar galactica,
fandoms: merlin,
prompts: rps: lost,
prompts: misc,
prompts: het,
prompts: crossovers,
!lonely prompts,
fandoms: x-files,
prompts: one word,
prompts: scifi centric,
prompts: authors choice,
fandoms: harry potter,
prompts: femme,
prompts: rps: kane,
fandoms: forever knight
--
There was grace in the perfect form; in a body holding the perfect line, everything in balance. There was grace in strength and grace in tone and grace in a body perfectly trained to hold a blade. To fire a gun. To fight until the war was done.
To save the world.
Dean Winchester was grace hardened and chiseled into its purest form. Hardened by resolve and purpose; chiseled by so many battles before this one that both body and mind shone with that clarity and skill, harnessed in the purest form of movement.
Skill and clarity he currently held back, kept in check as he drove into Eliot, holding him down and folding him over in order to reach his lips; lips already open with the various curses and gasps and moans as Dean caught that one spot and drove in hard. And still in the hard, desperate drive of their bodies, the hunter was still the pinnacle of grace and fluidity of movement; riding them both with a ruthless drive toward the edge they were both desperate to fall over.
Grace in the fall and grace in the perfect hot splash of release caught deep inside because Eliot refused to let him go.
Feeling the harsh breathing panting wet and hot over his collarbone, the tongue swiping in apology for the rough treatment along his neck, Eliot wrapped his arms around the other man and accepted the weight from the graceless fall with a body also honed and trained by too many battles he didn’t want to remember.
Because there was also grace in finding strength and comfort in another - one who knew what it was to hold a blade. To fight until the war was done.
And maybe - to save the world.
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