Keep Me Safemickey_sixxNovember 27 2009, 12:53:00 UTC
Probably sickeningly fluffy, but... I hope you like?
Pain. It was the last thing he remembered before passing out and the first thing he thought about when he awoke again. Burning, all-consuming pain. Hot knives slicing through his body, peeling away his skin, searching out his centre and carving away at his very essence.
That was before - before his eyes rolled up into his head and he fell to the floor in a crumpled broken mess. Now he was aware of every muscle, every bone and every tendon in his body; they all hurt. It wasn't the fiery brands of before, but the deep throbbing ache was still enough to make him groan weakly.
Blessedly cool hands touched his bare skin, one palm flat along the top of his back, stroking out along his shoulder and down his arm while the other ran through his sweat-damp hair. Murmured reassurances rumbled under his cheek, the sound of a steady heartbeat echoing in his ear, and for the first time since the day started Tyler felt safe. He struggled to open his eyes, hissing when even that hurt, but
( ... )
Sam's almost entirely asleep when he registers the sensation of fingers in his hair, threading through where it's laid across the pillow. Then very carefully drawing some away from his face. It's not so much comforting stroking as a curious exploration. Like someone who's seen his hair from afar and never gotten the chance to examine it.
"Gabriel?" Sam says, voice half muffled but still appropriately warning in tone.
The hand in his hair goes still.
"Hmm."
"If I wake up and I have no hair I'm not going to be happy," Sam tells him without opening his eyes.
Gabriel makes a quiet sound of amusement and after a pause he's moving Sam's hair again, tangling it round his fingers in a way that's almost indulgent.
"I'll try and restrain my artistic impulses," Gabriel sounds far too sensible to be believed.
It occurs to Sam, between one sleepy breath and the next, that he should probably have complained about the touching in general.
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RPS = Real Person Slash
RPH = Real Person Het
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RPF/RPS/RP whatever...we all know what it means, and I prefer a single acronym.
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Pain. It was the last thing he remembered before passing out and the first thing he thought about when he awoke again. Burning, all-consuming pain. Hot knives slicing through his body, peeling away his skin, searching out his centre and carving away at his very essence.
That was before - before his eyes rolled up into his head and he fell to the floor in a crumpled broken mess. Now he was aware of every muscle, every bone and every tendon in his body; they all hurt. It wasn't the fiery brands of before, but the deep throbbing ache was still enough to make him groan weakly.
Blessedly cool hands touched his bare skin, one palm flat along the top of his back, stroking out along his shoulder and down his arm while the other ran through his sweat-damp hair. Murmured reassurances rumbled under his cheek, the sound of a steady heartbeat echoing in his ear, and for the first time since the day started Tyler felt safe. He struggled to open his eyes, hissing when even that hurt, but ( ... )
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"Gabriel?" Sam says, voice half muffled but still appropriately warning in tone.
The hand in his hair goes still.
"Hmm."
"If I wake up and I have no hair I'm not going to be happy," Sam tells him without opening his eyes.
Gabriel makes a quiet sound of amusement and after a pause he's moving Sam's hair again, tangling it round his fingers in a way that's almost indulgent.
"I'll try and restrain my artistic impulses," Gabriel sounds far too sensible to be believed.
It occurs to Sam, between one sleepy breath and the next, that he should probably have complained about the touching in general.
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