FIC: The Little Things, John/Zep Slash, R
It's about time I wrote something especially for this community, since I'm the mod after all! :O
And here it is! :D
Title: The Little Things
Author: Carol Anne Caiafa
Fandom: Saw
Rating: R
Pairing: John/Zep
Genre: Slash
Word Count: 868
Warnings: Sex, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of horror themes and violence, heavily AU
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em, no profit, suing is futile!
A/N: This fic is set in an alternate universe where Zep survives and is working with John and Amanda. Certain parts of this story may therefore not conform to Saw canon. The story may contain spoilers for Saw 1-4. I dedicate this to my darling cassiejo, who got me into the Saw fandom.
For the most part, it was not the major tragedies of Zep Hindle’s life that had made him so embittered. The small sadnesses, the disappointments that would seem inconsequential to others had done their part to twist him deep inside, and the memory of each one left its own uniquely vicious sting.
Childhood pain had scarred him more than he would ever admit to anyone else. Like the time Zep had had his beloved teddy bear taken from him. That bear was more than a toy - he was a friend, the confidant of Zep’s early years, his worn velveteen ears always receptive to all the sad little boy’s whispered secrets and sorrows. Cuddled and almost loved threadbare, Teddy was always there for him. Until that awful day when Zep was sternly ordered to put away childish things. Time to grow up now, he was told, and give away his most cherished possession to someone less fortunate. Zep still felt a pang of raw grief when he remembered the sight of his precious bear in the box of old toys for the church charity collection. His only real friend, in that dreadful box with his sisters’ broken dolls and the jigsaw puzzles with several pieces missing. Zep had been nine years old at the time. Still a little kid - and his father was telling him to grow up, and act like a man? No way, Zep had whispered into his tear-stained pillow for what seemed like ages afterwards. There was just no way…
And the lonely teen years, they too left their mark on Zep’s soul. So many painful experiences - shunned by the pretty girls who found him “gross” and “creepy”, bullied by the handsome, athletic boys who Zep envied and secretly ached to touch as much as he craved the touch of the lovely, sweet-smelling girls. It hurt so much, to be an outcast, a misfit. All Zep wanted was someone to love, who would care for him in return. But he was weak and strange, despised or ignored by most people he came across. Oh, he had dreams of greatness, of being a doctor and saving many lives, thus earning the admiration that had eluded him so far. But Zep never had the drive to back up his dreaming, and all he ever became at the hospital where he ended up working was a lowly orderly. He resented the doctors, hated some of them, even. Especially Lawrence Gordon, that arrogant oncologist.
All that past agony - that was why Zep had found it so easy to hold Gordon’s wife and child captive, to point a gun at them while Gordon suffered, chained in a filthy bathroom with a fearsome kill or be killed task before him. Alison Gordon reminded Zep of the beautiful girls who had rejected him at school, and little Diana with her perfect childhood, a happy home, many toys and two parents who adored her completely - she possessed what Zep never had! They were living reminders of Zep’s inner demons, the demons that he had to find the strength to overcome.
But no more did the little things hurt Zep, for he now had a greater purpose. Zep’s test had been to take control, to leave behind the prison of his past and find a new reason for living, and he had passed that test. He now belonged to the man who had offered him the chance to change, the one who had given Zep the tools to bring about his own salvation. The rules that Zep now lived by.
That man was the Jigsaw Killer, John Kramer.
Ever since the terminally ill John had met Zep in hospital, there had been a sort of bond between them. Zep was fascinated by John, his calmness and strength, and had often slipped up to oncology to converse with John for hours. Hero-worship soon gave way to more tender feelings, and before Zep realized what was happening, he was in love with John.
John Kramer had tested Zep most stringently; there had been been much suffering and trauma to overcome. But it had all been worth it, for Zep now had a mentor and lover, someone he could adore with all his being and who reciprocated his affection. A man who craved Zep’s open-mouthed deep kisses and his skilled, caressing hands. A man who desired Zep in every way, pushing Zep onto his back or turning him over when the need became too great and fucking him hard, filling Zep utterly and making him his own.
Never once did John find anything Zep did creepy or weird; his breath would catch and he would softly moan when Zep’s fingers trailed through the thick blond curls of his chest hair, or when Zep would nuzzle his neck or gently sniff the scent of his warm body. John knew that this was a sign of Zep’s devotion, a love that Zep was worthy to bestow and John to receive.
No more did Zep dwell on the past, and at John’s urging he did not dread the future. Someday John would succumb to his cancer, but for now Zep was grateful for each precious moment with the man he loved.
And here it is! :D
Title: The Little Things
Author: Carol Anne Caiafa
Fandom: Saw
Rating: R
Pairing: John/Zep
Genre: Slash
Word Count: 868
Warnings: Sex, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of horror themes and violence, heavily AU
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em, no profit, suing is futile!
A/N: This fic is set in an alternate universe where Zep survives and is working with John and Amanda. Certain parts of this story may therefore not conform to Saw canon. The story may contain spoilers for Saw 1-4. I dedicate this to my darling cassiejo, who got me into the Saw fandom.
For the most part, it was not the major tragedies of Zep Hindle’s life that had made him so embittered. The small sadnesses, the disappointments that would seem inconsequential to others had done their part to twist him deep inside, and the memory of each one left its own uniquely vicious sting.
Childhood pain had scarred him more than he would ever admit to anyone else. Like the time Zep had had his beloved teddy bear taken from him. That bear was more than a toy - he was a friend, the confidant of Zep’s early years, his worn velveteen ears always receptive to all the sad little boy’s whispered secrets and sorrows. Cuddled and almost loved threadbare, Teddy was always there for him. Until that awful day when Zep was sternly ordered to put away childish things. Time to grow up now, he was told, and give away his most cherished possession to someone less fortunate. Zep still felt a pang of raw grief when he remembered the sight of his precious bear in the box of old toys for the church charity collection. His only real friend, in that dreadful box with his sisters’ broken dolls and the jigsaw puzzles with several pieces missing. Zep had been nine years old at the time. Still a little kid - and his father was telling him to grow up, and act like a man? No way, Zep had whispered into his tear-stained pillow for what seemed like ages afterwards. There was just no way…
And the lonely teen years, they too left their mark on Zep’s soul. So many painful experiences - shunned by the pretty girls who found him “gross” and “creepy”, bullied by the handsome, athletic boys who Zep envied and secretly ached to touch as much as he craved the touch of the lovely, sweet-smelling girls. It hurt so much, to be an outcast, a misfit. All Zep wanted was someone to love, who would care for him in return. But he was weak and strange, despised or ignored by most people he came across. Oh, he had dreams of greatness, of being a doctor and saving many lives, thus earning the admiration that had eluded him so far. But Zep never had the drive to back up his dreaming, and all he ever became at the hospital where he ended up working was a lowly orderly. He resented the doctors, hated some of them, even. Especially Lawrence Gordon, that arrogant oncologist.
All that past agony - that was why Zep had found it so easy to hold Gordon’s wife and child captive, to point a gun at them while Gordon suffered, chained in a filthy bathroom with a fearsome kill or be killed task before him. Alison Gordon reminded Zep of the beautiful girls who had rejected him at school, and little Diana with her perfect childhood, a happy home, many toys and two parents who adored her completely - she possessed what Zep never had! They were living reminders of Zep’s inner demons, the demons that he had to find the strength to overcome.
But no more did the little things hurt Zep, for he now had a greater purpose. Zep’s test had been to take control, to leave behind the prison of his past and find a new reason for living, and he had passed that test. He now belonged to the man who had offered him the chance to change, the one who had given Zep the tools to bring about his own salvation. The rules that Zep now lived by.
That man was the Jigsaw Killer, John Kramer.
Ever since the terminally ill John had met Zep in hospital, there had been a sort of bond between them. Zep was fascinated by John, his calmness and strength, and had often slipped up to oncology to converse with John for hours. Hero-worship soon gave way to more tender feelings, and before Zep realized what was happening, he was in love with John.
John Kramer had tested Zep most stringently; there had been been much suffering and trauma to overcome. But it had all been worth it, for Zep now had a mentor and lover, someone he could adore with all his being and who reciprocated his affection. A man who craved Zep’s open-mouthed deep kisses and his skilled, caressing hands. A man who desired Zep in every way, pushing Zep onto his back or turning him over when the need became too great and fucking him hard, filling Zep utterly and making him his own.
Never once did John find anything Zep did creepy or weird; his breath would catch and he would softly moan when Zep’s fingers trailed through the thick blond curls of his chest hair, or when Zep would nuzzle his neck or gently sniff the scent of his warm body. John knew that this was a sign of Zep’s devotion, a love that Zep was worthy to bestow and John to receive.
No more did Zep dwell on the past, and at John’s urging he did not dread the future. Someday John would succumb to his cancer, but for now Zep was grateful for each precious moment with the man he loved.