Fic: Life
title: Life
pairing: Adam/Tommy
rating: R
words: 742
warning: D/s, bloodplay, cutting, scars
summary: for this prompt on Glam_Kink: Something involving knifeplay and handcuffs. Dominant Adam.
disclaimer: Very untrue. Don't google yourself. Don't pass this along to anyone involved.
a/n: Also for my kink_bingo square of "scars/scarification"
on ao3
Stirred awake by Adam gently petting Tommy’s hand, Tommy opens his eyes halfway. Adam’s rubbing something into his skin, something cold and thick. It feels like lotion but Tommy can’t smell it; it isn’t Adam’s usual scent. Adam notices he’s awake and smiles softly, then he holds up the thin, antique razorblade. It’s an old straight razor Adam found on one of his extensive shopping trips with an ornate handle and a blade kept clean and polished and deadly sharp.
Tommy twists his arm, slowly turning his hand over to expose the inside of his wrist, where blue veins are thick and pulsing under his skin. Adam brings the blade close, watching Tommy’s face. Tommy can read the question in his eyes. Does Tommy trust him?
“With my life,” Tommy whispers.
Adam brings the razor down and swipes it across Tommy’s skin, a swift, precise cut that Tommy can’t even feel. The wound is clean for a second, but then Adam squeezes his hand around Tommy’s wrist and blood wells up. It comes fast-now Tommy can feel the cut. He inhales sharply but doesn’t try to wrench his hand out of Adam’s grasp.
Blood slides down his arm like water, spilling into his palm and dripping down his fingers, staining the sheets Tommy’s lying on. His heart speeds up; he can feel it pushing the blood out of his body. He gasps. The pain is starting to catch up to him.
Adam leans over and kisses him, deep and possessive, cutting off Tommy’s air and the loud, quick sound of his panting whines. When Adam pulls away, Tommy looks blearily down at his arm, soaked in bright red blood. Adam follows Tommy’s gaze with his tongue, licking a clean stripe through Tommy’s tattoos and brushing wetly over the wound itself.
Tommy shudders. His stomach swoops, and he can’t tell if it’s the harsh sight and strong, coppery scent of his blood or if it’s just Adam, claiming him like this. Adam keeps licking at Tommy’s skin, cleaning the blood from where it’s dripped into Tommy’s hand, sucking it off his own fingers, until the wound on Tommy’s wrist is throbbing and blood only sluggishly pumps out. Tommy closes his eyes, breathing hard, and feels Adam’s lips on him again.
Adam moves up, licking Tommy’s arm up to his shoulder, then kissing him soundly on the lips. He tastes like blood, like Tommy’s blood, and Tommy moans and halfheartedly pushes at Adam’s shoulder with his clean hand. Adam catches his wrist and holds him down firmly.
“No, don’t move.”
Tommy’s left wrist is throbbing and his right is caught tight in Adam’s hand. He makes a weak fist, barely even straining against Adam’s hold, then relaxes. He tastes blood on his lips. Adam’s are stained red, and there’s a smear on his chin. Adam kisses him again, chaste and sweet, then snaps a metal handcuff around his right wrist, securing him to the headboard before moving away.
When Adam gets off the bed, Tommy doesn’t try to move. His limbs feel heavy, and his head feels fuzzy, and the freckles on Adam’s back dance in front of his eyes. Adam rummages through a drawer in their dresser and comes back, smiling and staring at Tommy with a dark, possessive look in his eyes. Tommy can’t look away.
Tommy keeps staring into Adam’s eyes until he feels something soft come down on his left wrist. He glances over; Adam has a thick gauze bandage in his palm, and he closes his hand over Tommy’s wound firmly. Tommy’s eyes flick back up to Adam’s face as Adam wraps Tommy’s arm and tapes down the bandage.
Adam returns Tommy’s stare and doesn’t break it, even as he moves down and bends to kiss the thick, raised scar on Tommy’s hip, then the three on the top his thigh, and the one on the curve of his calf. He finds them all by memory, by feel, and by the time he’s finished revisiting all of Tommy’s old wounds, he returns to Tommy’s wrist and kisses the thickest part of the bandage.
“More,” Tommy whispers. “Again.”
Adam smiles, but there’s a familiar tenseness around his lips and a deep desire in his eyes. “Not today.”
Tommy looks down at the clean, white bandage and Adam’s fingers curled around his arm, then glances up at Adam hopefully. “But soon?”
Adam kisses him. He still tastes like copper. “Soon.”
fin.
pairing: Adam/Tommy
rating: R
words: 742
warning: D/s, bloodplay, cutting, scars
summary: for this prompt on Glam_Kink: Something involving knifeplay and handcuffs. Dominant Adam.
disclaimer: Very untrue. Don't google yourself. Don't pass this along to anyone involved.
a/n: Also for my kink_bingo square of "scars/scarification"
on ao3
Stirred awake by Adam gently petting Tommy’s hand, Tommy opens his eyes halfway. Adam’s rubbing something into his skin, something cold and thick. It feels like lotion but Tommy can’t smell it; it isn’t Adam’s usual scent. Adam notices he’s awake and smiles softly, then he holds up the thin, antique razorblade. It’s an old straight razor Adam found on one of his extensive shopping trips with an ornate handle and a blade kept clean and polished and deadly sharp.
Tommy twists his arm, slowly turning his hand over to expose the inside of his wrist, where blue veins are thick and pulsing under his skin. Adam brings the blade close, watching Tommy’s face. Tommy can read the question in his eyes. Does Tommy trust him?
“With my life,” Tommy whispers.
Adam brings the razor down and swipes it across Tommy’s skin, a swift, precise cut that Tommy can’t even feel. The wound is clean for a second, but then Adam squeezes his hand around Tommy’s wrist and blood wells up. It comes fast-now Tommy can feel the cut. He inhales sharply but doesn’t try to wrench his hand out of Adam’s grasp.
Blood slides down his arm like water, spilling into his palm and dripping down his fingers, staining the sheets Tommy’s lying on. His heart speeds up; he can feel it pushing the blood out of his body. He gasps. The pain is starting to catch up to him.
Adam leans over and kisses him, deep and possessive, cutting off Tommy’s air and the loud, quick sound of his panting whines. When Adam pulls away, Tommy looks blearily down at his arm, soaked in bright red blood. Adam follows Tommy’s gaze with his tongue, licking a clean stripe through Tommy’s tattoos and brushing wetly over the wound itself.
Tommy shudders. His stomach swoops, and he can’t tell if it’s the harsh sight and strong, coppery scent of his blood or if it’s just Adam, claiming him like this. Adam keeps licking at Tommy’s skin, cleaning the blood from where it’s dripped into Tommy’s hand, sucking it off his own fingers, until the wound on Tommy’s wrist is throbbing and blood only sluggishly pumps out. Tommy closes his eyes, breathing hard, and feels Adam’s lips on him again.
Adam moves up, licking Tommy’s arm up to his shoulder, then kissing him soundly on the lips. He tastes like blood, like Tommy’s blood, and Tommy moans and halfheartedly pushes at Adam’s shoulder with his clean hand. Adam catches his wrist and holds him down firmly.
“No, don’t move.”
Tommy’s left wrist is throbbing and his right is caught tight in Adam’s hand. He makes a weak fist, barely even straining against Adam’s hold, then relaxes. He tastes blood on his lips. Adam’s are stained red, and there’s a smear on his chin. Adam kisses him again, chaste and sweet, then snaps a metal handcuff around his right wrist, securing him to the headboard before moving away.
When Adam gets off the bed, Tommy doesn’t try to move. His limbs feel heavy, and his head feels fuzzy, and the freckles on Adam’s back dance in front of his eyes. Adam rummages through a drawer in their dresser and comes back, smiling and staring at Tommy with a dark, possessive look in his eyes. Tommy can’t look away.
Tommy keeps staring into Adam’s eyes until he feels something soft come down on his left wrist. He glances over; Adam has a thick gauze bandage in his palm, and he closes his hand over Tommy’s wound firmly. Tommy’s eyes flick back up to Adam’s face as Adam wraps Tommy’s arm and tapes down the bandage.
Adam returns Tommy’s stare and doesn’t break it, even as he moves down and bends to kiss the thick, raised scar on Tommy’s hip, then the three on the top his thigh, and the one on the curve of his calf. He finds them all by memory, by feel, and by the time he’s finished revisiting all of Tommy’s old wounds, he returns to Tommy’s wrist and kisses the thickest part of the bandage.
“More,” Tommy whispers. “Again.”
Adam smiles, but there’s a familiar tenseness around his lips and a deep desire in his eyes. “Not today.”
Tommy looks down at the clean, white bandage and Adam’s fingers curled around his arm, then glances up at Adam hopefully. “But soon?”
Adam kisses him. He still tastes like copper. “Soon.”
fin.