Summer of Oz: A valentine written on a broken man
Summary: Chris likes to write on dead skin. Toby’s very much alive.
Rating: R, creepy.
After he’s done fucking the boys, he kills them.
Then he writes on the skin, leaving a broken heart.
(how cliché, how like his own)
The tattoo is barely visible, and it might be missed.
But Chris knows it’s there.
It’s his love letter to those poor, pretty dead boys.
(how cold now, how trusting they were)
All he needs is a knife and then he can carve on the dead but still warm skin.
*
In Oz Vern got to Toby first and carved that swastika on one ass-cheek.
He’d like to remove it and replace it with a broken heart.
(ha, ha)
To do it Toby wouldn’t even have to die.
Or maybe he could do the other cheek.
He’s own suffering Christ was done by someone else.
Maybe he should get Toby one, to link them forever.
But Toby’s already linked to him.
He’s never written on living skin.
He wants to ask Vern how it was like to mark Toby.
It must have hurt.
Everything that’s worthwhile hurts.
Like love does.
*
When he fucks Toby he sees Toby’s eyes open and close, and his breath come in short gasps.
Like he’s dying from pleasure.
A small death.
The strength in Toby’s healed arms is so remarkable.
He’s so resilient.
Chris’ cock hits some sweet spot and Toby moans loudly.
He looks Chris in the eye, and doesn’t flinch.
He’d ready to give it all.
The boys shrunk from Chris’ steady gaze, but Toby dares him to go deeper, harder, do it all.
Chris takes a finger in his mouth and sucks, Toby hisses and moves again.
If only they could be like this always, joined by flesh and blood, alive and alert.
This is a sacred space, created for them in this place.
It’s a pocket of air in deep space.
(Eden.)
“Love you,” says Toby and his mind goes white with pleasure and light.
He knows he’s linked to Toby now, all the way down to his own tar-black soul.
He owns every part of Toby’s heart.
It beats for him and him alone.
Title from Hannibal by Bryan Fuller. (R.I.P show, long live the fic and Hannigram forever)
Rating: R, creepy.
After he’s done fucking the boys, he kills them.
Then he writes on the skin, leaving a broken heart.
(how cliché, how like his own)
The tattoo is barely visible, and it might be missed.
But Chris knows it’s there.
It’s his love letter to those poor, pretty dead boys.
(how cold now, how trusting they were)
All he needs is a knife and then he can carve on the dead but still warm skin.
*
In Oz Vern got to Toby first and carved that swastika on one ass-cheek.
He’d like to remove it and replace it with a broken heart.
(ha, ha)
To do it Toby wouldn’t even have to die.
Or maybe he could do the other cheek.
He’s own suffering Christ was done by someone else.
Maybe he should get Toby one, to link them forever.
But Toby’s already linked to him.
He’s never written on living skin.
He wants to ask Vern how it was like to mark Toby.
It must have hurt.
Everything that’s worthwhile hurts.
Like love does.
*
When he fucks Toby he sees Toby’s eyes open and close, and his breath come in short gasps.
Like he’s dying from pleasure.
A small death.
The strength in Toby’s healed arms is so remarkable.
He’s so resilient.
Chris’ cock hits some sweet spot and Toby moans loudly.
He looks Chris in the eye, and doesn’t flinch.
He’d ready to give it all.
The boys shrunk from Chris’ steady gaze, but Toby dares him to go deeper, harder, do it all.
Chris takes a finger in his mouth and sucks, Toby hisses and moves again.
If only they could be like this always, joined by flesh and blood, alive and alert.
This is a sacred space, created for them in this place.
It’s a pocket of air in deep space.
(Eden.)
“Love you,” says Toby and his mind goes white with pleasure and light.
He knows he’s linked to Toby now, all the way down to his own tar-black soul.
He owns every part of Toby’s heart.
It beats for him and him alone.
Title from Hannibal by Bryan Fuller. (R.I.P show, long live the fic and Hannigram forever)