fake clouds, but true
Title: Fake Clouds, But True
Rating: R
Pairing: Sergio Ramos/Fernando Torres
Wordcount: 336
Disclaimer: We'll never know.
Note: This was created by wine.
They greet each other. Laugh it off, share an injustice hug, and gaze at each other. Go over formalities, paint a normal picture over crave, of the original, and head to their shelter. But like a rose they blossom, essentially finding their humanity in a haven. Their lips gravitate and stick and plummet their souls. Bodies slam into the wall, drilling the rest into oblivion, blurring the edges of their drive. Nothing means more than this. The heat that clogs their lungs, fumigate their veins, shatter their minds. A road of which is only to be driven by the heart. It takes over and make them into something divine, pure, impeccable. Honest emotions flying across their skin, breaking into bumps. It's in their breath, in their touches, their voice-passion becomes their sanity. Beating against their chests. Sergio and Fernando, they're far gone from the shade. Lust taken a form over their eyes, clouding the life out of them. But the moonlight is there, shuttering across the canvas of which they travel and fall onto the bed. They melt and melt and give themselves over, drowning in the valleys of each other. It feels eternity, it feels like heaven. The clothes get lost and it's hot, a furnace, summer. Sergio wanders across skin, seeking home in the taste. Fernando let's him. It grows and grows until mindless, tight, excruciating, but all worthy. Each thrust means something. Each moan means something. Unspoken cursive, but knowable, stamped in every lick and push and groan. Wonderful, a bliss, beautiful, all the words that can't describe even half of what they're meant. It's more than they can inhale, and it kills them softly as it breaks down-as it always breaks down. There's waves that ache through their body. Reminding them of a sunrise to their end, the dead road. A rock sets between them. They kiss away, sleep it off, and awake into an injustice morning. Go over casualties, draw a line through their bubble, and head back into the shade.
Rating: R
Pairing: Sergio Ramos/Fernando Torres
Wordcount: 336
Disclaimer: We'll never know.
Note: This was created by wine.
They greet each other. Laugh it off, share an injustice hug, and gaze at each other. Go over formalities, paint a normal picture over crave, of the original, and head to their shelter. But like a rose they blossom, essentially finding their humanity in a haven. Their lips gravitate and stick and plummet their souls. Bodies slam into the wall, drilling the rest into oblivion, blurring the edges of their drive. Nothing means more than this. The heat that clogs their lungs, fumigate their veins, shatter their minds. A road of which is only to be driven by the heart. It takes over and make them into something divine, pure, impeccable. Honest emotions flying across their skin, breaking into bumps. It's in their breath, in their touches, their voice-passion becomes their sanity. Beating against their chests. Sergio and Fernando, they're far gone from the shade. Lust taken a form over their eyes, clouding the life out of them. But the moonlight is there, shuttering across the canvas of which they travel and fall onto the bed. They melt and melt and give themselves over, drowning in the valleys of each other. It feels eternity, it feels like heaven. The clothes get lost and it's hot, a furnace, summer. Sergio wanders across skin, seeking home in the taste. Fernando let's him. It grows and grows until mindless, tight, excruciating, but all worthy. Each thrust means something. Each moan means something. Unspoken cursive, but knowable, stamped in every lick and push and groan. Wonderful, a bliss, beautiful, all the words that can't describe even half of what they're meant. It's more than they can inhale, and it kills them softly as it breaks down-as it always breaks down. There's waves that ache through their body. Reminding them of a sunrise to their end, the dead road. A rock sets between them. They kiss away, sleep it off, and awake into an injustice morning. Go over casualties, draw a line through their bubble, and head back into the shade.