Dup Inbox

[meowww]

Leave a fuckin' message.

Comments

[boomerwanged]

[ He scoffs lightly at the claim of his genuineness. It's not a word he hears in relation to him all that often, not for a guy who's spent his life lying, cheating and stealing. But Victor's not wrong; when it comes to being a misbehaving little scumbag, Boomer's the real deal. ]

Oh, cheers, mate. Appreciate you taking that off the list of me, I was real worried you'd try fucking me corpse or something. [ Dripping with sarcasm, but also a smile. ]

I don't even know what the bloody hell you lads get up to, maybe a safe word is just a hell of a lot easier.

[meowww]

[Maybe Roman hasn't, but Victor...Well, Victor was in a bit of a state before he figured out how exactly he wanted the rest of his life to go.

Roman helped out with that. At least the morgues in Gotham didn't have to worry about midnight visitors.]

What really? [A little crooked grin and a raised brow.] Like to really use?

[They don't have one. Of course, they don't.] If that's what you need then that's what you need. Ok.

We try to keep it tame when we have a third party.

[boomerwanged]

[ Sort of reassuring for Boomer to know that no matter how bad he is, there's probably always someone worse out there. Thanks, Zsasz, for being that real low bar. ]

Either way, man, I'll say if I'm not bloody happy. [ He speaks his mind even in the midst of sex. ]

Speaking of, though, you must have limits too, yeah? Things you don't like seeing happen to your man. You ever have a third party push some no-no button?

[meowww]

Well, that's fuckin' good, I can't stand people who can't communicate.

[As if Victor is a paragon of honest communication here.]

I do, and no, I never let anyone do what I don't want 'em to do. [They don't live long if they try either.]

Nobody else get's to kiss him. That's my business. That's my limit.

[boomerwanged]

No kissin'? That's your limit?

[ A small chuckle because that's honestly not one he's heard much before beyond maybe sex workers, but he sure won't be saying that out loud right now. ]

I take it that's just kissing on the lips, yeah? Smooches elsewhere are fine?

[ No lips at all is a tough rule to follow. ]

[meowww]

No kissin' on the lips, that's right. That's my limit.

[Listen he doesn't need to be hammered with Pretty Woman jokes, he knows it's weird. It's one of the things that Victor finds desperate to keep for himself.]

Would be a shame if you couldn't kiss him anywhere else. Everything else is fine, I don't think I have to worry about the freakier stuff with you.

[boomerwanged]

[ Maybe if Digger had ever had any sort of long lasting relationship, he might understand just a little better, but as it is he's never quite got a grasp on love, affection, or anything in between. ]

Thanks, I think? [ Not sure if that freaky thing is a compliment or not, but he supposes not being the freaky guy is good enough by his books. But now he's curious. ]

What sorta freaky shit you two get up to, though?

[meowww]

[Victor's grin is all gold teeth and nasty promise. He gives Boomer a look over and considers, for a moment, playing on that corpse-fucking fear, but dismisses it quickly. He wants the guy to agree to fuck his husband and give him diamonds, not cut contact.

Rubbing his chin, he thinks about a few tame freaky things Boomer might wince but not run for the hills at.

Then he slips off the stool and turns around, pulling his shirt up.

There on his lower back in big, burned lettering is RBS.]

That was my wedding present.

[boomerwanged]

[ Victor's not as stupid as he looks. Mostly. Smart of him not to go scaring off Digger with the real weird shit, at the very least, even if he's semi-expecting it at this point.

When the other moves to stand, Boomer's got an eyebrow quirked in curiosity, leaning in as the shirt is lifted. ]

Fuck me, mate, that a proper brand?

[ He reaches out to drag his fingers over the raised skin like he doesn't quite trust it. And yet, Victor's covered in hundreds of raised scars, this isn't all that different. ]

[meowww]

Looks good, doesn't it?

[It is, wide and long and taking up a hell of a lot of real estate on Victor's back. The skin's healed over now, has been for a few weeks of tentative care. Nothing too rough or knotted beneath Boomer's fingers as he grazes them over the brand, just tight, smooth scar tissue.

Straightening back up, he turns around.]

Need another example? Or does that suffice?

action

[ewwww]

[When Roman sees Dinah's post, there's a notable silence as he takes it all in. Checks three times to make sure he's seeing right, that she really did post it to the public network for everyone to see.

He blinks. Blinks again.

Drops his phone.

And then he starts to scream.

Full-bodied, high-pitched, whole lung capacity behind it shrieking, and a second or two later, the crashing starts. He starts by stamping on his phone until the screen is in pieces, then he throws the lamp from the bedside table against the wall, then he breaks a painting over his knee. He exits their bedroom, still shrieking at the top of his lungs, leaving a path of chaos and destruction in his wake. Everything moveable or breakable ends up in pieces on the ground.

He only stops when he physically runs out of air after refilling his lungs about three times. Bending over, hands on his knees, he gasps for breath, vision swimming. Looks at his reflection in the broken glass from a painting on the ground, and hates how disheveled and flushed he looks, so he sucks in another breath and hoarsely starts to scream again.]

Holy shit babe

[meowww]

[That wakes him up. That scream makes Victor pitch right over the side of the couch and straighten up in a sudden half-daze and dream-like state. Stumbling to his feet, he grabs the couch's armrest to keep him up before hurrying to Roman's side.

His skull is pounding by the time he gets to his husband.]

Roman- Roman- Hey! What happened?

Dinah is a FUGLY SLUT

[ewwww]

[Roman has to gasp for breath before he can do anything. Then he turns, rips Victor's phone out of his pocket, and quickly navigates to Dinah's post, holding it up as he hits play.

He looks like a cross between someone who's about to cry and someone who's about to commit bloody murder.]

[boomerwanged]

Nah yeah, I think I've seen enough of that, Vic.

[ Not so much because he's that much of a prude or easily offended by a bit of pain with pleasure, but mostly because he gets the picture. If that's the sort of thing they do as gifts, then he can already assume it just gets a whole lot more for 'punishments. Digger withdraws his hand to rest lightly on his own knee. ]

How d'you make sure you the sexy scars don't get mixed up in your tally, huh? Must be a real problem for your kinda bookkeeping, mate.

[meowww]

Roman, Roman! [He shouts, watching Roman snatch his phone and frantically sort through it. What the fuck is going on? He watches, bewildered, hands partway outstretched.

Then the video starts. Victor watches. Oh, does he watch.

By the time it's finished, he's quiet. Terrifyingly so.]

Why didn't you tell me?

[meowww]

You sure?

[A little sly grin, but, Victor does right his clothes. Pulling his shirt back down, he straightens up in his seat and leans back.]

Cuz I use a small knife to cut the tallies makes it easy to tell 'em apart.

[The blade is a nice and heavy weight in his pocket. He moves his hand down so his fingers skim across the outline of it in his slacks.]

Could show you sometime, if you're interested.

[boomerwanged]

[ His gaze draws downwards to Victor's fingers. That dude fondles his knife through his pants like it's his own dick, some real damn symbolism there.

Boomer meets it with a slow raise of an eyebrow. ]

Show it on yourself, right? 'Cause I don't need any more scars. Tattoos, I'll take, but scars? Nah.

[ A beat and then he quickly thinks to add; ] Don't you gotta kill one of those 'little birds' to add another line?

[meowww]

I wouldn't use it on you. Would mean it wasn't meant for marking anymore. Can't use a knife like that without a proper exchange, you know what I mean?

[Not exactly doing well on calming down the creep factor there, Victor.]

Yeah, if you wanted to tag along I could show you. Would take time though, I'd have to find a proper bird.

[ewwww]

I didn't-- I--

[Roman's voice is raspy, and he gasps for breath, the world swimming.]

It was fucking-- Did you see that?! It was goddamn humiliating!

[meowww]

Yes, fuck, yeah it was.

[Is that supposed to be helpful? Nice? Apparently it’s the best Victor can do right now while he’s so furious.]

Want me to hurt her?

[ewwww]

[When Victor wakes up, it's to a sea of red.

Not blood. Not gore. Flowers. Roses, full-bodied and beautiful, decorating every corner of their bedroom. Every bit of space on dressers and bedside tables. Every windowsil. Almost every inch of floor.

Next to the bed, propped up against one of the white vases of red flowers, sits a note.]

Victor,

While you were out, I've been thinking. Thinking about us. About our relationship. About who we are when we're with each other.

I thought long and hard, and I think I figured it out. You're better off without me. Dinah, Harley, they're all right. No matter what I do, it's not enough. I'll always hurt you in the end. I'll never be the man you deserve.

I just hope you can forgive me for what I've done. Because, if we're being honest? I'm not myself if I don't have you with me. If I don't know that I'm the only one you want. It's why I hurt you so bad, I... I don't know how to do anything else.

I won't begrudge you if you have to leave. I just hope you'll talk to me first. Give me the decency of getting to kiss your lips goodbye one final time.

I support you, Victor. I do. It's why I gifted you the shop. You can still run it if we... I mean, I don't know what recourse there is with our contract being permanent, but. I'll take care of you, no matter what you do.

Because I love you, Victor Zsasz. I'm sorry for ever putting it into doubt, but I love you more than anything.

I hope one day that might be enough.

-RBS

[meowww]

[Magical, that’s the first thing that comes to Victor’s head when he finally wakes up. His room looks like someone came in here and performed an impossible trick. He gapes at the flowers, rubs his eyes and swallows past his dry lump in his throat.

The pain is there and it hits as he looks at the door. Wincing, the memories start to come back.

Then he sees the note, and the pain buzzes in the back of his head. Picking it up, he falls quiet and reads over it. The more he reads that harder his heart pounds in his chest. Pain becomes a distant thought a more important, pertinent one taking its place. ]

Roman!

[Victor shouts. He stumbles out of bed, scattering the nearby roses. He moves to the pathway, tripping over his numb feet as he screams into the apartment.]

Roman? Roman where are you?

[ewwww]

[Three, two, one...

There it is.

The sound of Roman's plan paying off. At least, he thinks that's what the frantic jolt in Victor's voice is all about. He supposes he'll find out.

He stretches out in his position on the couch, all done up in a bedrobe like that's where he's been sleeping. He actually spent last night in the guest bedroom as theirs was being done over with roses, but Victor doesn't need to know that.]

Victor...? [His voice starts out quiet, tentative, before he gets a little louder.] Victor, the living room...

[meowww]

[He hears Roman and he bolts toward the living room.

Barely catching himself on the railing, he looks down into the living room. Sees Roman curled up on the couch and his heart aches.]

Roman-

[He says, relieved and starts hurrying down the stairs.]

I saw- you didn’t- what are you doing down here?

[ewwww]

[Roman isn't very practiced in making himself look pathetic. He prefers the opposite. But it's easy to forego taking all his makeup off so that some liner is still smudged around the edges. It's easy to let his hair fall out of place and his stubble get a quarter of an inch longer. It's easy to slip away from an unresponsive husband to sleep somewhere else.]

I thought you-- I-- I'd be crowding you. [He carefully doesn't meet Victor's eyes as he speaks.] Didn't want to-- to hurt you.