Kinktober Fic Challenge Day 25: Blood/Gore (as it turns out, not much of either yet)
Overwatch, Reaper76, serial killer Gabriel AU part 2. (Part 1 is here.)
Unfinished. I’m sorry. I ran out of time and serial killer!Gabe is the slowest-ass serial killer in history. He can’t make up his mind what he wants to do any better than I can. Jack is like, “Are you going to do something or is the goal to just wait till I die of old age?”
***
Jack wakes up and can’t move. Straps tug at his wrists and ankles, holding him stretched spread-eagled across something soft. It’s probably a bed, but he can’t see so he can’t tell for sure. There’s something across his eyes. He tosses his head to see if he can dislodge it. It shifts a bit but doesn’t come loose. Aside from the sounds of his own breathing and stressed heartbeat, there’s nothing.
Something heavy shifts on the mattress next to him. Someone. Someone leaning over him, creating a pocket of dimness and warmth above his body. Jack’s breathing picks up, because he’s pretty sure he knows who it is, and because as fingertips trail long his body from the curve of his hip to his collarbone, he realizes he’s completely naked.
“You’re not trying to pretend you’re still unconscious, are you?” Gabriel asks. There’s an amused little waver in his voice that isn’t quite a laugh. Jack’s heart does a flip in fear and nostalgia.
This man was his lover. Jack used to love that sound, tried to make him laugh just like that so many times. This man nearly killed him, stabbing him repeatedly—but not in a frenzy. Jack can’t forget that knife being pushed slowly into his body over and over again, the way Gabriel had seemed to drink in how he shook and cried out with the pain. Even in the middle of being murdered, Jack couldn’t escape the horrible intimacy of it, the awareness of Gabriel savoring the sensations of Jack’s body and what he was doing to him. He feels light-headed at the memory, only half-present like he’s falling through time back to that moment.
Those fingers, rough and warm and familiar, trail down the side of his face. “Shhh, cariño. Calm down.” Gabriel places his palm flat against Jack’s solar plexus, and Jack realizes he’s hyperventilating.
He laughs, breathy and hysterical, because ‘calm down?’ That’s a good one. “Do you…remember…those letters?” he gasps.
Gabriel keeps petting him, hands comfortingly warm and human against his exposed skin. It’s not right. His touch shouldn’t feel human after the things he’s done, let alone comforting. “Of course I do, mi amor. I wrote them. And I meant every word.”
Jack laughs again, more wildly. “You said. You wanted to. Eat my heart.”
“No, I said I wanted to taste it.” Gabriel leans down close over Jack’s body, the fabric of whatever he’s wearing dragging against Jack’s abdomen. A line of metallic cold might be a zipper. God, Jack hopes it’s a zipper.
The hairs of Gabriel’s beard catch against Jack’s stubble as he seals his lips over Jack’s. Nose pressed against his cheekbone, Jack can smell the bergamot of his aftershave. With a quick, deep inhale, Gabriel sucks all the air out of Jack’s lungs and then breathes it back into him. Jack shudders. It feels like Gabriel is taking control of him from the inside out. His head spins with the need for air, but Gabriel takes no mercy on him, breathing for him until Jack’s lungs stop fighting the pace he sets.
“There,” Gabriel says when he withdraws, with a final flick of his tongue across Jack’s lips. “Now that you’re calmer, we can begin.”
Gabriel’s flavor lingers familiar and warm in Jack’s mouth. He coughs against it and shifts on the bed, trying to be surreptitious about tugging against his bonds. They don’t give any more than they did the last time. “You’re going to kill me.”
The room is silent, except for the sound of Gabriel’s breathing, deepened with arousal. His hand keeps stroking up and down Jack’s flank, tracing over the old knife scars till they ache from the repeated contact. “I don’t want to,” he says at last, like he’s feeling out the words. “I just want to do things that you won’t survive.”
Jack drops his head back against the mattress and laughs bitterly. “Forgive me for not caring about the distinction.”
He still can’t see, and he hates it. Gabriel shifts on the bed, and then the mattress springs. Jack tries to follow him with his ears. The room doesn’t sound big. It doesn’t echo all that much, either. Now that the sound of his own panic isn’t drowning out everything else, if he listens hard enough, he thinks he can hear crickets outside…and there’s a dusty, old-house-and-animal-fur smell that makes him wonder if Gabriel didn’t take him very far at all.
“Are we in my old room?” he asks dully of the ceiling. The idea that he’s going to die in the same place he grew up is…he doesn’t know. Fitting. Upsetting. It feels a bit like everything he’s ever done with his life was futile.
“Guest bedroom,” Gabriel answers after a second, and Jack has his bearings now. He’s over by the sewing table in the corner by the door. The one his mom always insisted on keeping set up, even though it mostly accumulated dust and knick knacks.
Jack bares his teeth and moans with helpless anger when he hears Gabriel moving back toward him. “All these years,” he rasps. Gabriel’s weight makes the bed dip. “You always wanted to kill me.”
“No.” Gabriel’s touch smooths along his collarbones, as if he’s pressing wrinkles out of Jack’s skin. “I never wanted to kill you, Jack. If I had, I wouldn’t have called emergency services back in Zurich.” He leans down again. His curly hair tickles at Jack’s jawline as his lips follow the same path his fingers did. Every couple of inches, he gives a hard nip. Jack gasps and arches at a brush of thumb across his nipple. Gabriel smiles against him and takes it between his fingers, flicks and pinches it. Jack can’t help but moan. He was always sensitive there and Gabriel knows it. “You have to understand,” he murmurs, between sucking bites. Jack can already tell they’re going to bruise, assuming he lives long enough to get around to it. “I know you do. You had your jealous streak when we were together.”
“The difference was that I drew the line at hurting anybody!” Jack’s voice cracks with fury and the ticklish brush of a sharp metal edge drawn lightly across his lower belly. He tenses, wide-eyed under his blindfold and frozen with memory. “Gabriel, please…”
There’s a sharp exhalation. “No. I want…” Gabriel’s breath shudders, and the knife moves upward, point drawing delicately below Jack’s collarbones, just where the pectorals of his chest begin to swell. The touch is so light. He can’t tell whether it’s splitting the skin.
Gabriel’s voice is hushed, intense when he continues. “You’re telling me you don’t understand wanting to sink my hands into you? Wanting to peel your skin back and touch you somewhere deeper and more naked. To curl my into the gaps between your ribs and hook you close so you can’t get away. You’re telling me you don’t know how it feels…” Jack hisses as Gabriel’s control of the knife slips and it cuts into him. “…to want to cradle your heart in my palm as it beats. To feel your stomach roll and gurgle as it works.” Gabriel draws the knife a bit further along. Then his weight falls across Jack, and his tongue dives into the slice. Jack hisses again through his teeth, like he can make the pain evaporate from him like steam.
Gabriel makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. Jack doesn’t dare move as the knife slides down under his armpit and then traces along his intercostals. “I want to feel the life of your body, Jack. I want to hold it in my hands and feel all the most interior, private parts of you working. All your cogs and gears and fluids and your living heat. Is that really so hard to understand?”
No. Yes. Jack trembles, and squeezes his eyes shut because he knows Gabriel can feel it. It keeps going, slides over into full-body shaking. “Undo the blindfold. Please. Gabriel, take the blindfold off.” It’s too much. He can’t do this. “If I’m going to be cut apart, murdered, raped, whatever the fuck your plan is, at least let me see what’s coming. <em>Please.</em>”
Gabriel shifts, tugs on the cloth wrapped around his head, and then pulls it loose. Jack blinks against the light in the room and sucks down a few deep, measured breaths, forcing back the urge to give in to another panic attack. Maybe there’s not much else he can do, but freaking out won’t help anything.
He can see Gabriel’s face in his peripheral vision, drinking in everything that flits across his face. God, he’s never felt so naked in his life.
Gabriel pushes himself up, straddling Jack’s waist. This time Jack gets the privilege of watching as he carefully sinks the tip of his knife under his skin and draws a leisurely red line with it following the curve of his ribs. Jack chokes on a cry and feels tears of pain well up in his eyes. Gabriel tilts his head thoughtfully, for all the world seeming to admire his own handiwork, and then moves over to give Jack a matching cut on the other side. Blood wells up and drips from the wounds. They aren’t deep, but they sting like hell as the pain brings sweat to the surface of his skin.
Gabriel draws back again and bites his lip. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.” Jack’s abdominal muscles flutter nervously as the knife tip runs teasingly down them. “You’ve always been at your best in the worst situations. Never more gorgeous than when you’re driven past fear into balls-out crazy.”
“Let me up and I’ll show you balls-out crazy,” Jack snarls.
from Tumblr http://ift.tt/2eQdhrT