* X/1999 - Seishirou/Subaru - fetishizing old wounds -- "Compound Fracture" Compound Fracture tokyo babylon Mithrigil Galtirglin
1995.11.09 19:07
“Do try to stay conscious, Subaru-kun,” he purrs against Subaru’s inner thigh. “It’ll last longer if you stay conscious.”
Subaru clenches the subway rail in one hand and the nearest fire extinguisher handle in the other. In the back of his mind, glass shatters and there’s a murderer in the next car forward.
All the chatter of the commute—it’s gone. Illusion. The train whips around a curve and he feels it but sees no change in the shadows, just the cloying petal-pink dankness of obvious maboroshi. His chest pounds around the scar from a punctured lung.
The dangling steel handholds waver—their reflections glimmer in Seishirou’s glasses. He’s smirking, neck craned up from where he’s kneeling, his coat’s fanned out like a trail of ink and how does he make kneeling look so aggressive? How does he—
—digs his nails into the crook of Subaru’s elbow and there goes the fracture, aah— “Careful, careful,” Seishirou chides, words wet at the inseam of Subaru’s slacks. “You can’t hear them, but they can surely hear you.”
Panic chills the sweat under Subaru’s palms.
And that’s—that’s true, he can’t hear, knows the train is railing forward but the tracks don’t rattle, the only sounds in the world are Seishirou’s low, nasal half-breath-half-laughter and the blood-swollen groan trapped in Subaru’s throat. Seishirou’s nails thrust into the crook of Subaru’s arm again and again and Subaru compounds it, biting his own tongue.
The traincar tilts—Subaru loses his footing—Seishirou presses into him, closer, with teeth. The moan won’t stay down, it swells out of Subaru’s throat like a bruise, and Seishirou’s hand shoots up to his neck and shoves it right back in.
(If he falls, will he land in the killer’s reserved seat?)
Seishirou’s hand is jammed just into the cusp of Subaru’s neck and chin—dry, somehow, dry and hard, or is that just projection? The crook between his forefinger and thumb is pushing Subaru up, threatening to break something else, snap or tear or suffocate and the fly of his jeans, it’s too thick, he wants to feel not just the pressure but the bite—holds on—holds back—shattering glass, ringing like the mirror and the water of a spell—
—his arm’s not in its socket anymore—
—transfer available to Chuuou Main, Chuuoo Rapid, Chuuou-Soubu, Shounan-Shinjuku—
Subaru’s knee is the first part of him to hit the floor—after that, his chin—his right arm, the—the—it next, with pain enough to make him scream—
—Seibu, Tokyo Metro, and Toei service is also accessible.