foxtophat | when i grow to be a poppy in a graveyard

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sails: skulcap

when i grow to be a poppy in a graveyard

[entering the boring way is, well, boring, but at least Catduggery is guaranteed to survive the transition. and it does give the Captain time to perfect looking cool and collected for the minute or so it'll take Skulduggery to reach him.]

Oh, that's right, I meant to ask... how did Izzy take the news? Did he give a little [mimes a golf-tourney fistpump] when he realized he was dead on about us?

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[he hums quietly, thoughtfully. there's a joke he could make about being a skeleton, but instead,]

You tell me you love me and call me beautiful. What prettier words do I need?

All of them. [a soft whine] Every single one. I could tell you I love you in an infinite amount of ways and even that wouldn't be enough.

[he continues to rock into him, pressing their bodies together, tilting his pelvis to sink even deeper.]

You only need to look at me for me to know. I can see it in your eyes.

[even when they're on fire.]

[a slow, inscrutable blink, almost catlike.]

... Harder. Please.

[he hums, delighted, and does as he's told, letting those eyes fill his skull with light.]

My beautiful darling. I hope the image of you is seared into the back of my skull.

Bet I could do that. [he reaches out to run his fingers over the side of his head, but doesn't break the surface.] Of all the places I'm afraid to touch... Where everything I love is...

[he lost his mind a long time ago to creatures much worse than the Captain. it could be argued that he was cracked long before the Faceless Ones, that they only destroyed something that was already broken to begin with.

but even then, rational instinct tries to win out in times like this. it's dangerous. they don't know what could possibly go wrong.]

In this one thing, you may be more cautious than me... [he tilts his skull, pressing against the fingers radiating heat through the bone.]

Someone has to be. [his fingers dip in, just slightly.] Never held anything so precious before...

[there's less than a centimeter of bone between those fingers and the interior of his skull. even the barest touch is deep enough to set his head ablaze; for a moment, it's all he can do to focus on the words being spoken past the burning, furious heat. his voice and hips stutter under the onslaught, sockets focused on the impossible shadow beneath him.]

Hhhh -- fffuck --

[he can't believe he ever thought he understood power. this is what real power is. it's letting a man's soul run through your fingers like water, and only thinking of how best to keep it together, not tear it apart.

he tenses against him for a moment, shaking, beyond words until he gathers himself enough to deliver the most important ones of all:]

I win.

[all of his swirling, maddening desire has newfound direction, choking him with sheer, overwhelming sensation. he barely hears that triumphant little declaration, choking out a desperate laugh, short pauses like gasps between his own words.]

You do. You do. I can't... [think. talk. take it.] Please, almost --

Stay with me, here.

[and then, eyes transfixed on the kaleidoscope before him, he presses that much further in.]

[he's barely aware of where here is, everything that he is boiling under the heat that spreads through his mind. the probing fingers could violate everything that he is, could tear him apart and put him together again as many times as they wanted, and still, he'd find himself eagerly seeking out this screaming, agonizing ecstasy.

it doesn't ever end. even when the overwhelming, unknown tension breaks, he can still feel the wildfire smoldering in that quarter-inch shell of bone. he shudders from skull to metatarsal and tries to claw some momentary coherence back from the white-hot edge.]

Aahh... shit. Hhmm. [emphasis on trying.]

[quickly mastering the art of looking smug without many discernible facial features.]

Another empty chamber. [he pets gentle fingers down the side of his skull.]

Mmmm? [which is as far into "what's that supposed to mean?" as he can get. look, you can fuck the skeleton out of the detective but you can't fuck the detective out of the skeleton.]

[a quiet huff of a laugh.]

Don't worry about it.

[that just makes him worry more. or, it would, if he could bring himself to care.

probably not a good habit to develop.]

Hmmph.

[he's slow to pull out, and then there's no further consideration for the strap-on as it disappears. he collapses to one side of the Captain instead of on top of him, but it's a narrow miss.]

Just this once. Maybe later. [if he remembers.]

[he immediately cuddles up next to him, this form having a much more comfortable give against bone than flesh does.]

I'll remind you. [he'll forget even sooner.]

Good. Teamwork is important in detectiving...

[hm. that's not a word... oh well.]

Need me to move?

[wraps arms around him.]

Don't you dare.

[he laughs quietly, simultaneously a lead weight and lighter than the air, and settles in for a long rest.

warm and safe. two things he's dangerously close to getting used to.]

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when i grow to be a poppy in a graveyard

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