Resolved with a Single Stroke -- 248 wds., crossover
Resolved With a Single Stroke
The Picture of Dorian Gray / Sweeney Todd crossover. Vaguely slash if you tilt your head sideways and sort of squint a bit. 248 wds.
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Resolved With a Single Stroke
He had another customer.
“Just a shave,” said the young man, sliding casually into the leather-covered chair.
He smelt faintly of lilacs.
“This weather is far too warm,” young Mr. Gray complained, leaning back and closing his long-lashed eyes.
His skin was soft - impossibly soft.
“One might almost think the gods of the ancients were having a divine bonfire in the heavens,” Mr. Gray continued, chattering for the sake of hearing himself speak. He had heard Henry praise this barber time and time again, for the closeness of his shave and the quick efficiency of his practice, but his reticence was a bit trying.
Todd lathered the soft boy’s cheeks, taking more time about it than he usually did. His skin was too soft to hurry.
If only the man would speak...!
“I like the hot weather,” the barber said abruptly, and bent over the counter’s edge to select his razor.
Dorian gave a very slight sigh of relief - at last, the statue spoke. “It’s repulsive,” he replied. “In a society that frowns upon so-called ‘indecent’ skimpiness of clothing, such heat should not be allowed.”
“The devil’s set the city a-fire,” said Todd absently, and pressed his razor, colder than the ashes after, to Mr. Gray’s soft cheek.
“Well, someone should tell him to put it out again,” said Mr. Gray, chattering for the sake of hearing someone else speak.
“Tell him yourself, my lordship,” said the demon barber, and drew his razor across Mr. Gray’s lovely throat.
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The Picture of Dorian Gray / Sweeney Todd crossover. Vaguely slash if you tilt your head sideways and sort of squint a bit. 248 wds.
****
Resolved With a Single Stroke
He had another customer.
“Just a shave,” said the young man, sliding casually into the leather-covered chair.
He smelt faintly of lilacs.
“This weather is far too warm,” young Mr. Gray complained, leaning back and closing his long-lashed eyes.
His skin was soft - impossibly soft.
“One might almost think the gods of the ancients were having a divine bonfire in the heavens,” Mr. Gray continued, chattering for the sake of hearing himself speak. He had heard Henry praise this barber time and time again, for the closeness of his shave and the quick efficiency of his practice, but his reticence was a bit trying.
Todd lathered the soft boy’s cheeks, taking more time about it than he usually did. His skin was too soft to hurry.
If only the man would speak...!
“I like the hot weather,” the barber said abruptly, and bent over the counter’s edge to select his razor.
Dorian gave a very slight sigh of relief - at last, the statue spoke. “It’s repulsive,” he replied. “In a society that frowns upon so-called ‘indecent’ skimpiness of clothing, such heat should not be allowed.”
“The devil’s set the city a-fire,” said Todd absently, and pressed his razor, colder than the ashes after, to Mr. Gray’s soft cheek.
“Well, someone should tell him to put it out again,” said Mr. Gray, chattering for the sake of hearing someone else speak.
“Tell him yourself, my lordship,” said the demon barber, and drew his razor across Mr. Gray’s lovely throat.
****