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Title: Eye of the Storm
Author: Fallon Ash
Fandom: Queen RPF
Pairing: John/Brian
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: blood/power play
Word Count: 300
Disclaimer: Lies.
Author's Note: Written for the 'broken glass' drabble challenge over at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
queen_slash.
***
The pillowcase scratches his cheek, the sheet clammy against his chest, his exposed back shivering. Colours are shifting shapes inside the tight blindfold. His fingers rest against rough bindings, his legs pulled apart and fastened as to render him immovable, a weight across his thighs, a soft sound as of trickling gravel. Relaxing him even as his heart beats faster, his blood flowing with greater ease even as his muscles tighten in anticipation. Each breath carefully measured.
The first burst of pain shoots to his brain and he cries out into the pillow, but before the sound has died there's a second one that goes straight to his groin, turns it into a moan. The third flares sharply from his hip along his side, his fingers curling involuntarily into claws, blood flowing hotly to his cock, thudding dully as his back clenches, prepares for the next…
he tastes blood in his mouth, doesn't realize he's stopped breathing, his body quivering with tension, caught in an impasse…
and then there's a sweeping line across his right shoulder blade. He shudders, and his world is shrinking, his entire awareness focused solely on the sharp cuts across his back, each one triggering an ephemeral release, to be suspended with each break in contact, the first flares of hyperventilation stinging his chest, his eyes, his fingers cramping, when double lines press hard into his skin following his spine on either side to his neck, and his body convulses…
- - -
You watch him; spread out, waiting for you. There's a tremor in his body beneath yours, and you spill the multi-coloured glass shards from hand to hand. They rattle softly, and you watch the brilliantly scattered light dance across the pale expanse of skin before you, edges sharp against your fingertips, searching for the perfect one.
***
Author: Fallon Ash
Fandom: Queen RPF
Pairing: John/Brian
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: blood/power play
Word Count: 300
Disclaimer: Lies.
Author's Note: Written for the 'broken glass' drabble challenge over at
queen_slash.***
The pillowcase scratches his cheek, the sheet clammy against his chest, his exposed back shivering. Colours are shifting shapes inside the tight blindfold. His fingers rest against rough bindings, his legs pulled apart and fastened as to render him immovable, a weight across his thighs, a soft sound as of trickling gravel. Relaxing him even as his heart beats faster, his blood flowing with greater ease even as his muscles tighten in anticipation. Each breath carefully measured.
The first burst of pain shoots to his brain and he cries out into the pillow, but before the sound has died there's a second one that goes straight to his groin, turns it into a moan. The third flares sharply from his hip along his side, his fingers curling involuntarily into claws, blood flowing hotly to his cock, thudding dully as his back clenches, prepares for the next…
he tastes blood in his mouth, doesn't realize he's stopped breathing, his body quivering with tension, caught in an impasse…
and then there's a sweeping line across his right shoulder blade. He shudders, and his world is shrinking, his entire awareness focused solely on the sharp cuts across his back, each one triggering an ephemeral release, to be suspended with each break in contact, the first flares of hyperventilation stinging his chest, his eyes, his fingers cramping, when double lines press hard into his skin following his spine on either side to his neck, and his body convulses…
- - -
You watch him; spread out, waiting for you. There's a tremor in his body beneath yours, and you spill the multi-coloured glass shards from hand to hand. They rattle softly, and you watch the brilliantly scattered light dance across the pale expanse of skin before you, edges sharp against your fingertips, searching for the perfect one.
***
melancholy