Kinktober Day 6: Amputation

Overwatch, reaper76. SFW, sad, no actual amputation happening in the fic.  Look, angst is a kink.  So is engaging with physically and emotionally sadomasochistic trysts with your ex whom you know you’re never going to be over.

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When Jack finally sees Gabriel’s face, it’s a wreck.  Sometimes it looks like him…at least parts of it.  And then sometimes it’s warped black strands of flesh melting and knitting back together at the same time.  Jack feels a muscle in his jaw jump.  It looks horrifying, and painful as all hell, and he isn’t sure whether what he feels is pity or fury.

Whatever it is he feels, Gabriel sees it.  Of course he does.  He knows Jack better than Jack does.  His face twists with anger.  “Take your legs off.”

Obeying him would be stupid as hell.  Gabe is still furious at him.  If he decides to do something about it, then Jack wouldn’t be able to escape or effectively fight back.

He sits down and pulls his boots off to get at the connections for his prosthetics.

Gabriel watches, looming over him, fists clenched at his sides.  He’s a cloud of simmering retribution shaped like a person, and Jack doesn’t give him the satisfaction of glancing up at him till he’s done.  Then he straightens and leans back on his hands on the bed.  “Does it help?”

Gabriel scowls.  “No.”

No.  Jack knows it doesn’t.  Neither of them will ever be what they used to be again and they’ll never be happy about it.

Gabriel reaches down to touch the stumps. Jack folds his lips in and bites them. They’ve been healed for years, but they’re still sensitive as hell. Jack has never been sure whether it’s the scarring or if it’s in his head.

The ruin of Gabriel’s face twitches in a way Jack doesn’t find as easy to read as he once did. Oh, the anger is easy to see. Gabe always wore that easily.  But there’s something else there lost in the tangle of his constant regeneration. Maybe it’s pain.

“Does it make it easier?” Jack asks.

Gabriel sinks his claws into the scar tissue.  Jack cries out, bites it off.  Bows his head and breathes through his teeth as the blood wells up around the tips of Gabe’s claws.  It’s not much, really.  Just little trickles that bead and then tumble down over the curves of his thighs.  But it hurts in a way that seems to chew through his nerves and leaves his joints shaking with the effort to not just collapse.

“That,” Gabriel growls.  “That makes it easier.”

Jack reaches up with one hand, slowly, carefully. Gabriel watches, suspicious of every centimeter, but he doesn’t pull away when Jack’s fingers brush light and delicate over his torn cheek.  Then, before Gabe can stop him, he catches the back of his neck to pull him down into a kiss.

Jack doesn’t hold back, doesn’t flinch at the sensation of skin rotting and healing at high speed beneath his lips.  Kisses him like he did when they were young and brave and untouched, until Gabriel is shaking right along with him.

They know how to hurt each other, how to dig their fingers into every wound left by all the things cut away from them.  Jack falls back against the mattress, Gabriel coming down on top of him.

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