FANFICTION ⇌ 「 DOGS/Deadman Wonderland 」 Genkaku & Badou. ``start at dead ends.``
I think G/B officially needs its own tag.
... They ain't gettin' it, either way. Fuck you two.
Really stupid short drabble Rabid convinced me to upload.
He's touching me again, is what registers in Badou's mind. He knows it is true because he sees it before his eye; he knows it is a lie because he doesn't feel it, nerves all sizzled out of activity. Both suit him just fine, despite Genkaku's cyanide-sharp smile. He has no cigarette in his mouth nor in his fingers; they are replaced with Badou's skin, just as ashen and addictive and beguiling.
He does not feel the brush of lips, the exhale of breath, the masculine exaggeration of the ex-con's hand as it grips only his scars.
"You can't feel it, yeah?"
The kiss is as light as feathers, as soft as rain. (But there are no birds in branches tonight with their watchful eyes, no grey sprinklers for clouds in the ceilingsky -- it's just a crystal clear view of stars out a porthole, like a winter's night.)
"And what you can't feel you can't care about."
He thinks he sees Badou twitch, like he's about to swing, but it turns into more of a tensing of muscles. Not the kind that prompt a blow, more the kind that --
makes him inhale.
"Thought you didn't care that I don't care."
"I don't. Until I can use it to my advantage."
It was prisonergentleman manners before, the back of his hand (while he's bent at the waist, but he sure as hell ain't bowing), a cruel mockery of the first kiss he had brushed on knuckles and wound up pistolwhipped and grimefucked. Now it's just plain selfish, turning his hand over and tracing his tongue along the abscessed scar over lifelines (and that fact alone kinda turns Genkaku on, always looking for that sharp end to signs of life).
His smile is knowing. A Kannon-Sama told me a secret smile, a Aphrodite gave me her Boon (and if you take off the top hump [which I did], she gave me that, too]) smile.
"You're all scar tissue, yeah? Inside and out. Unfeelin'."
Badou hits him, this time.
(But not because he's wrong.)
... They ain't gettin' it, either way. Fuck you two.
Really stupid short drabble Rabid convinced me to upload.
He's touching me again, is what registers in Badou's mind. He knows it is true because he sees it before his eye; he knows it is a lie because he doesn't feel it, nerves all sizzled out of activity. Both suit him just fine, despite Genkaku's cyanide-sharp smile. He has no cigarette in his mouth nor in his fingers; they are replaced with Badou's skin, just as ashen and addictive and beguiling.
He does not feel the brush of lips, the exhale of breath, the masculine exaggeration of the ex-con's hand as it grips only his scars.
"You can't feel it, yeah?"
The kiss is as light as feathers, as soft as rain. (But there are no birds in branches tonight with their watchful eyes, no grey sprinklers for clouds in the ceilingsky -- it's just a crystal clear view of stars out a porthole, like a winter's night.)
"And what you can't feel you can't care about."
He thinks he sees Badou twitch, like he's about to swing, but it turns into more of a tensing of muscles. Not the kind that prompt a blow, more the kind that --
makes him inhale.
"Thought you didn't care that I don't care."
"I don't. Until I can use it to my advantage."
It was prisonergentleman manners before, the back of his hand (while he's bent at the waist, but he sure as hell ain't bowing), a cruel mockery of the first kiss he had brushed on knuckles and wound up pistolwhipped and grimefucked. Now it's just plain selfish, turning his hand over and tracing his tongue along the abscessed scar over lifelines (and that fact alone kinda turns Genkaku on, always looking for that sharp end to signs of life).
His smile is knowing. A Kannon-Sama told me a secret smile, a Aphrodite gave me her Boon (and if you take off the top hump [which I did], she gave me that, too]) smile.
"You're all scar tissue, yeah? Inside and out. Unfeelin'."
Badou hits him, this time.
(But not because he's wrong.)