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kat_lair***
Title: with fear, with fervent favor
Author:kat_lair / Mistress Kat
Fandom: Buzzfeed Unsolved
Pairing: Shane/Ryan
Rating: M
Word count: 300
Disclaimer: Very not true
Summary: Fear is a continuum.
Author notes: This was written for the Carpe Diem challenge as a gift forpushkin666 and dreamersdare. Posted on AO3 at the time but because I 'm old and also like to have my fics on my DW, here it is.
with fear, with fervent favor on AO3
The cell wall is cold and clammy, as if the very stones of the building are weeping, condensed despair soaking through the back of his shirt. Ryan’s sitting on the floor, knees pulled to his chest, fingers knotted tightly in the straps of the camera. He’s talking but has no choice in what he’s saying, no comprehension of the words that tumble out like water drops from a leaky tap, soft and small and liquid.
Fear is a continuum, a U-shaped curve from mild trepidation to the sweet relief of after, and Ryan is riding the peak of cold terror, the sharp edge of it prying him apart with surgical precision. His breath comes in fast little pants, heart vibrating like a plucked guitar string, playing a filthy, sweat-soaked tune of tainted ecstasy that makes his stomach clench, his dick grow heavy in his jeans.
There’s a harsh, metallic clatter and Ryan scream-sobs in surprise, blinking at the sudden square of light at the top of the cell door. Shane’s face is half in shadows, but his grin is a familiar, crooked thing full of secrets.
“How’re you doing there, Ry?” he asks, voice light and jolly and kind of breathless, like he’s been laughing. “You ready to come out?”
“Please,” Ryan begs, “please,” except he doesn’t know what he’s asking for, heels scrabbling aimlessly against the dirty floor.
But Shane does. “You got it,” he says. “Ten more minutes.” The hatch slams shut, leaving Ryan alone in the darkness once more.
Or maybe not alone at all.
He presses his face against the wall, hard enough to hurt, mouth open and fear dry against the wet stone. The keen that pours out is low and obscene, full of terror and thrill and somewhere, underneath all of that, damning gratitude.
***
Title: with fear, with fervent favor
Author:
kat_lair / Mistress KatFandom: Buzzfeed Unsolved
Pairing: Shane/Ryan
Rating: M
Word count: 300
Disclaimer: Very not true
Summary: Fear is a continuum.
Author notes: This was written for the Carpe Diem challenge as a gift for
pushkin666 and dreamersdare. Posted on AO3 at the time but because I 'm old and also like to have my fics on my DW, here it is. with fear, with fervent favor on AO3
The cell wall is cold and clammy, as if the very stones of the building are weeping, condensed despair soaking through the back of his shirt. Ryan’s sitting on the floor, knees pulled to his chest, fingers knotted tightly in the straps of the camera. He’s talking but has no choice in what he’s saying, no comprehension of the words that tumble out like water drops from a leaky tap, soft and small and liquid.
Fear is a continuum, a U-shaped curve from mild trepidation to the sweet relief of after, and Ryan is riding the peak of cold terror, the sharp edge of it prying him apart with surgical precision. His breath comes in fast little pants, heart vibrating like a plucked guitar string, playing a filthy, sweat-soaked tune of tainted ecstasy that makes his stomach clench, his dick grow heavy in his jeans.
There’s a harsh, metallic clatter and Ryan scream-sobs in surprise, blinking at the sudden square of light at the top of the cell door. Shane’s face is half in shadows, but his grin is a familiar, crooked thing full of secrets.
“How’re you doing there, Ry?” he asks, voice light and jolly and kind of breathless, like he’s been laughing. “You ready to come out?”
“Please,” Ryan begs, “please,” except he doesn’t know what he’s asking for, heels scrabbling aimlessly against the dirty floor.
But Shane does. “You got it,” he says. “Ten more minutes.” The hatch slams shut, leaving Ryan alone in the darkness once more.
Or maybe not alone at all.
He presses his face against the wall, hard enough to hurt, mouth open and fear dry against the wet stone. The keen that pours out is low and obscene, full of terror and thrill and somewhere, underneath all of that, damning gratitude.
***