Fandom: Oz Title:Abandoned Author:Rustler (rustler) Genre: Slash, Angst, First Time Pairing/Characters: Beecher/Mondo Brown, Keller Rating: NC17 Warnings: None Spoilers: Through Season 4, Episode 6 - A Word to the Wise
Notes: I don't know why, but I've always loved the scene between Beecher and Mondo in A Word to the Wise. I love the way Beecher stares at Keller through the glass, the way he laughs at Mondo, and the way Mondo comes right back at him. It's really a three way: Keller/Beecher/Brown, because despite the fact that they're in different rooms, Keller is very much a part of what happens. This is a short piece, I kinda wish she'd done more, but it packs a punch, and just like the rest of Rustler's fic, this one draws me in and makes me glad I read it.
"Come on, Beecher, suck my dick."
The words that cut through your thoughts are inevitable and you've been waiting for them -- although whether it's been with dread or anticipation, you no longer feel qualified to guess. You don't want to do this, but it might confirm some things.
You continue to look up at the burning eyes staring back at you across the darkened reflective expanse of Emerald City -- except there's an emptiness inside you now. There's no more fighting to do, and nothing you do or don't do at this point really matters. You just are.
"Jesus, you're such a romantic. That the way you talk to your women?" It's a joke you know Mondo won't understand, but that's all right. You only say it for your own amusement. Woman. Girlfriend. Transferrable property. Hole.
"Well, when I'm horny, the less talk the better."
You feel the moistness of Mondo's breath on the back of your neck, the heat of his presence behind you as his big hands grab at your waist.
No, there's no more fighting to do here.
"Okay, lover boy, pucker up," you say, turning to face Mondo, waiting for him to laugh and push you to your knees already so you can just get started. Instead he hauls you up closer and smashes his mouth against yours with rubbery, wet lips.
The kiss is unexpected, and you pull back, off-balance. Mondo's eyes are closed, darting movement like REM-sleep flickering under his lids. Fantasizing? Maybe he really is trying to pretend he's with a woman. Which might be interesting, except that it's not. You don't care about Mondo's pathology, only your own.
Take one last backward glance over your shoulder at the shifting, shadowy, half-naked form watching from above. Happy? But you don't want to give him too much acknowledgment. That would be what he wants. (Or thinks he wants. Or thinks he doesn't want. Yeah, well, whatever. His bed, he made it. Too fucking bad.)