Brontophobia, A Cure For
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,127
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,127
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Brontophobia, A Cure For
Pairing: omc/omc ;)
Rating: R
Warnings: m/m slash, not beta\'d. Bad me.
Disclaimer: Original characters. One belonging to me, the other belonging to muse. Though their names aren\'t mentioned, so... yeah.
Summary: Brontophobia is the fear of thunder, or thunderstorms. A novel way of overcoming that fear is found.
Note: It all went a bit poem-y.
Brontophobia, A Cure For
I can see by the light of a broken sky
That you\'re on the mend
[\"Too High\" by Jump, Little Children]
Lightning, like a sharp hiss in the dark, streaked the sky for a beat. The heat was palpable, thick with sweat and tears and there would have been blood, too, but it was dried now, darker than it had been. Stark, spots of rust across an otherwise unspoilt cheek.
Thunder, tendrils constructed of sound, whipping beneath the clouds, through them, past them.
Pale eyes watched the storm unfolding; the hand holding a sweat-soaked pillow thrashed, teeth flashed as he cried out, the shout faded, became a rumbling moan. A lone rivulet of rain, marbled shadow on his skin. The moan softened to thin, thready breaths. Yes.
He\'d been lost, gone for a while, but now, God, now he was back. Eyes bordering on black, bruised hands bruising hands that held on tight. Fight, flight, fight, Right. The scene was set alight again, the story of their lives. Rain came harder, pale eyes closed and Puppy tumbled out from loosened lips. Hips rose, fell, met, froze; loveyouloveyouGod, I do.
Eyes opened, could barely see, fucking ecstasy. Light ripped, thunder tripped, bodies slipped, liquid. Breathed out, a kiss that licked sore skin, a crescent mark from sharp teeth forming, warm, sticky, and there he was, glowing, fucked, sheets rucked up around him. A mess, a nest, where he feels found. Home, safe, sound, grounded. Supposed to be here, storm still raging, no fear. Over it, under him.
Home.
Rating: R
Warnings: m/m slash, not beta\'d. Bad me.
Disclaimer: Original characters. One belonging to me, the other belonging to muse. Though their names aren\'t mentioned, so... yeah.
Summary: Brontophobia is the fear of thunder, or thunderstorms. A novel way of overcoming that fear is found.
Note: It all went a bit poem-y.
I can see by the light of a broken sky
That you\'re on the mend
[\"Too High\" by Jump, Little Children]
Lightning, like a sharp hiss in the dark, streaked the sky for a beat. The heat was palpable, thick with sweat and tears and there would have been blood, too, but it was dried now, darker than it had been. Stark, spots of rust across an otherwise unspoilt cheek.
Thunder, tendrils constructed of sound, whipping beneath the clouds, through them, past them.
Pale eyes watched the storm unfolding; the hand holding a sweat-soaked pillow thrashed, teeth flashed as he cried out, the shout faded, became a rumbling moan. A lone rivulet of rain, marbled shadow on his skin. The moan softened to thin, thready breaths. Yes.
He\'d been lost, gone for a while, but now, God, now he was back. Eyes bordering on black, bruised hands bruising hands that held on tight. Fight, flight, fight, Right. The scene was set alight again, the story of their lives. Rain came harder, pale eyes closed and Puppy tumbled out from loosened lips. Hips rose, fell, met, froze; loveyouloveyouGod, I do.
Eyes opened, could barely see, fucking ecstasy. Light ripped, thunder tripped, bodies slipped, liquid. Breathed out, a kiss that licked sore skin, a crescent mark from sharp teeth forming, warm, sticky, and there he was, glowing, fucked, sheets rucked up around him. A mess, a nest, where he feels found. Home, safe, sound, grounded. Supposed to be here, storm still raging, no fear. Over it, under him.
Home.
END