#c

[untestxd]

ғɪʟᴍ/ᴛᴠ ᴛʀᴏᴘᴇs ɪɴ: ᴛʜᴇ sᴄᴏᴛᴛ ᴛɪʙʙs ᴅᴏᴄᴜᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʀʏ (𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟼)  | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

[untestxd]

ғɪʟᴍ/ᴛᴠ ᴛʀᴏᴘᴇs ɪɴ: ᴛʜᴇ sᴄᴏᴛᴛ ᴛɪʙʙs ᴅᴏᴄᴜᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʀʏ (𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟼)  | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ

[untestxd]

// HC

                 i’ve been re-watching the scott tibbs documentary.                  so many feelings. but the best one had to come from listening                  to the dialogue over the credits.                 “ He was just a fuckin’ asshole, it’s whatever.”                 “He’s just crazy. ---- Do you think he’s gonna smell?”                 “You think?? Smelled before man!”                  “Starving artist doesn’t mean he can’t use soap.”

          ( Scott smells like dirty clothes, stale cigarettes, weed and             really really cheap body-spray.  He smells worse on a night             where they’re performing- thanks to the extra body spray              and the sweat. )

[untestxd]

[ sᴄᴏᴛᴛ ᴛɪʙʙs ɪɴsᴘɪʀᴇᴅ ᴘʟᴀʏʟɪsᴛ ]

Douchebag - Patent Pending

Hayloft - Mother Mother

Vicodin - Rav

Loser Boy - Joseph Dubay

All My Best Friends Are Metalheads - Less Than Jake

We’re All Gonna Die!!! - Baby FuzZ

Rebels - Call Me Karizma

SFDD - Stacked Like Pancakes

Bender - Big D and the Kids Table

Waste Away -Thrashed

When The Sun Goes Down - Artic Monkeys

Cats, Dogs & Rats - Rare Americans

Side Projects are Never Successful - Bomb the Music Industry!

Violent Mood Swings - Spineshank

Head Like A Hole - Nice Inch Nails

Big Problems - Corrosian of Conformity

Nobody Likes The Opening Band - I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

Lights Out - Mindless Self Indulgence

[untestxd]

@beautykillertaskforce​  ♥ 'ᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴀ sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀ

“ ʜᴇʏ.  ʜᴇʏ----!”    The first call to the stranger goes unheard, prompting     a second, more physical approach as the musician     taps away at his shoulder. Unlit cigarette hanging from     his lip, he continues to provoke the man at the bar until    he turns to face the musician. 

              “I’m fucking ᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ.   You got a light?”

[untestxd]

                      ɪɴᴄᴏʀʀᴇᴄᴛ ǫᴜᴏᴛᴇs ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ

sᴄᴏᴛᴛ + @blendintowalls

DAVID: I slept for almost 12 hours but I might still be tired so lets go for 12 more just incase. SCOTT:  David, that's a coma. DAVID: Sounds festive.

[untestxd]

                         ɪɴᴄᴏʀʀᴇᴄᴛ ǫᴜᴏᴛᴇs ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ

sᴄᴏᴛᴛ + xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ @webspin

XAVIER: I PREVENTED A MURDER TODAY. SCOTT: REALLY? HOW’D YOU DO THAT? XAVIER: SELF CONTROL.

[untestxd]

[ peg ] yes im literally copying elliot here but . fuck you i can

‘a—ad—-‘ his name caught, breathless in his throat as their lips part. Heavy lids scoured up at the stars above him, two bright jade lights beaming back down to earth. What a sight Scott must have looked now beneath him. Swollen lips grin up at the other boy, no— other man— straddling the guitarists hips. Oh how unfair this was already. Far from some quick fuck tucked away in his dark room, or a chance encounter drunken and shambling into a bathroom stall. A prepared meeting. A pencilled-in date.

So this was what taking it slow was, huh? The guitarist was certainly enjoying it, but his body screamed otherwise. Already, he was agonisingly hard against the fabric of his boxer-briefs, feeling Adam’s heat bare and slick slowly rutting just below his navel as they made out. Tongue and teeth and everything in-between.

He swallowed hard, groaning a little in wordless plea for him to stay as he climbed off him- hands clumsily trying to hold onto his waist, his arms, anything to keep such blistering heat between them. But as he sits up, raising his head from the pillow he saw exactly why he had decided to pull away. How could have he forgotten. His grin ignites, supernova sparked amongst flushed and pink features as he watches Adam reach for the small bottle left on the bedside.

Like a child with sticky palms, impatient and restless, Scott clambers over to him. He pressed his chest up against the photographer’s back, resting forehead against his shoulder. He snakes his hand around to the delicious slick between Adam’s legs, hot and needy kisses beginning to build across his neck with intangible excitement. As if each were a were a wordless plea for the man to hurry up.

Impatient circles, fidgety digits brush up against him as Scott’s own clothed arousal pokes like bothersome neighbour against his back. His kisses leave fresh marks, suckling against thin thread of neck with an impatient growl, flushed canvas spotted a wonderful indigo. “Come on… Come on…” he panted as digits became webbed with Adam’s own desire.

He could feel the other’s hip push up against his touch, despite how much time he apparently needed to concentrate. How easy it would be now, for Scott to just bend him over and thrust already aching erection inside such wonderful heat. Burying himself, engorged deep in Adam’s cunt as he scrambled desperately for sweet completion. Those miraculous sounds whined straight into his ear, his own name cried out over and over like long forgotten hymn. Just the thought of it was driving Scott wild. He moved his hand to tug impatiently at the strap laced around the Adam’s form. The one thing Adam was still wearing. A new addition; Scott taking him wasn’t their plan for tonight. This would be a glorious change of pace.

‘cut it out. bend over’

The translucent hue had coated Adam’s fingers, and Scott didn’t need him to say anymore to comply, releasing his hold on the other as he removed the last of his clothing. What sweet release as the air hit swollen flesh. But all the more difficult to not just ravage the man now. The excitement in the air was thick and heavy, and Scott couldn’t help but touch himself at the sight of Adam there waiting for his terribly annoying friend to hurry up. He was delaying the inevitable, procrastinating. But after Adam kisses him again, Scott does what’s he’s told.

Desire tinged with nerves as he felt Adam’s hand grasp at his ass. Already Scott’s pushing back eagerly as he feels enshrined digit tease against him, a whimpered moan escaping the guitarist as Adam begins to pry him open, a deliciously unfamiliar sensation as he begins to work. And with time a second digit makes it’s company. “Oh…shit…” He can feel himself being stretched out, pulled and worn in all the right ways. Already his legs were shaking from the adrenaline born pleasure. He lets go of his own cock, afraid to let this be over for him too soon. Instead, sweaty palm claps at bedsheet as he can’t help but rock back onto Adam’s hand. So this was what it felt like. “ f-ffuck…” ’ a stifled curse floods through grit teeth clamped together.

His skin is ablaze, a wild-fire of flesh and messy ink heaving beneath the other man’s touch. This was territory unfamiliar; terra incognita - beyond the wall here be dragons. But Scott was never one to back out of any suggestion, and there was no one else he trusted more than Adam to venture forth with. And he wanted him now. ‘stop—ah, wait—-stop—stop—‘ he stutters out, and the other does.

He turns, moving back to face the photographer and kisses him, over and over, drowning desperately as he drinks him in, pulling him closer down with him as Scott’s back hits the bedsheet. The smaller man above him now, pupils dilate as he feels Adam grip at the guitarist’s thigh. “Please…” he manages to breathe between kisses, a plea not impatient but desperate , unrelenting need to drown in his touch. ‘God… Adam… please… please—-“ name’s tangled with divinity in a moment of weakness.

He didn’t know how bad he wanted this until it was so close to being his; how bad he needed this, how bad he wanted Adam. He wanted to see it, see it all, wanted Adam to see him. How much he wanted him, how Adam and Adam alone could bring Scott to such a state. His words breathed out, lips inches from each other in shared heat. “hurry up and fuck me…before I change my mind..”

[untestxd]

//  ₳Đ₳₥

                      “ “ ʰᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰʳᵉᵉ ᵈᵃʸˢ ᵃᵍᵒ. ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ                                 ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ...ʲⁱᵍˢᵃʷ ᶜᵃˢᵉˢ.  ⁱ’ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵖᵃᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒ-----”             Had been the words overheard from his hospital bed as a pair of             nurses had walked past his curtain on the ward. Scott’s head had              snapped up so ғᴀsᴛ, he felt a painful tear in his neck muscle. But             that didn’t matter. The whole reason Scott was even in here was              of his morbid obsession with the infamous serial killer.        ɴᴏ             he wasn’t a serial killer. He gave people the ₵ⱧØł₵Ɇ, and these              ‘victims’ ₵ⱧØ₴Ɇ not to take their life into their own hands. These               fuckers who got stolen away to these games all deserved it,               cops, criminals; they were all just as bad as each other.              They all deserved what they got. They were stupid enough to              get caught in the first place. Like.... ᴀᴅᴀᴍ.            ( Ever since the news had gotten out that the guitarist’s best friend              had somehow gotten himself involved in all of this mess, it had              only fuelled this obsession further. Why....him? Why test ʜɪᴍ?              Adam was a nobody, a fucking waste of space, a total pussy.              What made him so sᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ as to be chosen by the Jigsaw Killer?              What made him worthy? What  was         sᴄᴏᴛᴛ    missing? )            Lifting himself up out of his hospital bed, he grit his teeth as the              pain beneath fresh bandages stretched with the effort. The axe had            perforated his skin, but hadn’t gotten deep enough to do permanent            damage. His wrists were another matter, those too laced in white             cotton as the wounds did their best to heal. Ducking around, the             young man spent a good while peeking into each window of the             private rooms, checking charts, keeping to the shadows unnoticed            to hunt down this survivor. Get some more information about their            game, learn more about Jigsaw, indulge in some fucked-up shit.           But what Scott wasn’t expecting was to see that name scrawled on            the chart. Adam. Fucking Adam Stanheight. He felt a strange            ambivalence claw at those axe wounds. He felt stomach acid on            his tongue, the colour drain from his face, but all the while excitement           flare in his veins. 

          Without hesitation, he slammed his palm down on the handle of the           door and strut his way inside, making sure to close it behind him.           Wide eyes drink in the form of the man in the hospital bed, seeing            him asleep. He didn’t        ʟᴏᴏᴋ      too fucked up.   Scott made his           way over and flicked the poor man’s face, with all the excitment of           a child trying to rouse their parents on Christmas Day.

                          ❝ Adam. ₳Đ₳₥, wake the fuck up, man.❞                          ᴀ ɢʀɪɴ ,    “You ₥Ø₮ⱧɆⱤ₣Ʉ₵₭ɆⱤ”

@wantslife​                                     

[untestxd]

@spotlessmlnd​ ♥ 'ᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴀ sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀ

  ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ ᴘɪᴛʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴ who had crawled over to this corner of the    city to seek out the musician. How long had they been caught in this   conversation now? How long had Scott left him there dangling the   carrot of information in front of the stranger’s nose- talking so much   but say sᴏ ᴠᴇʀʏ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ.

  He had approached in the hope to learn more about this ongoing    Jigsaw case. Scott had been very vocal in his relation to one of the   many growing number of victims to these deadly games, and it seemed   that unlike any detectives or pigs before him, Will had taken the initiative   to reach out into the victim’s social circle. Unfortunately for him, he had   decided to reach out to ... Scott Tibbs.

                  “ ᴀᴅᴀᴍ?----- Yeah, I know him.”       He breathes the cigarette smoke inhaled into the man’s face, bright eyes        piercing with curiosity, brimming with mutual interest in the case.                           “ Why---? What do you know?                           There’s nothing really to say about him.                                  Other than that he’s a ₱Ʉ₴₴Ɏ.”

[untestxd]

💘 Pull my muse in for a rough kiss. scottwill moments

A heated groan is half panted, half laughed as it stutters out from the guitarists lips. The stranger tastes sweet and he tastes clean. What dazzling canvas the artist has found himself in the dark, digits tugging at the back of his shirt, just above his waist, and pulls him closer still. All the better to sully.

It’s messy and rough, an unexpected but very welcome encounter as soft lips part and he kisses him deeper. He tastes mouth-wateringly good. Breath is blistering in the desperate seconds between teeth and tongue as Scott’s back hits the wall. Probably for the best; the amount of shots he had done that night it was a surprise he was still standing.

His grin is loud and obnoxious, married only with a growl as toothy smile breaks away to paint across the smooth skin of the stranger’s neck. He didn’t know who this guy was, and didn’t know if this guy knew who he was. And in this dark corner of the overly-crowded bar, it really didn’t matter. All he knew was that he didn’t want this to stop. Teeth nip at flesh as he feels the other press against him, a strangled whimper spilling over Scott’s mouth as it finds the other man’s again, capturing him as he indulges in such delightful delicacy. A hand frees itself from the fabric to the forefront, tugging greedily at the stranger’s belt.

“We should head backstage…”

@schenks

[untestxd]

💘 well,

💘 ᴘᴜʟʟ ᴍʏ ᴍᴜsᴇ ɪɴ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴋɪss

after all their meetings, their discussions, their hours of arguments and eye-rolls that had ticked by--- scott had been no closer in getting the answers he needed. the documentary was all but moot. just another fruitless avenue who’s twisting paths had brought him nothing but more questions and more conflict. the doctor, surprisingly, had been the closest thing so far to just the dilution of such feeling. of what it could feel like. his answers were not in lawrence, but there was potential for them to be. and scott wasn’t giving up on that chance yet, because in reality, perhaps he really was scott’s last chance. 

leg had been left bouncing, heel tap, tap, tapping on the ground as he found himself in the doctor’s company again. this had been becoming a habit now, or was it more a vice? because he never felt any better for leaving the doctor’s company, but he certainly did need it. like that bitter burn that chased you from your throat to your lungs as you inhale shaky drag; digits just itching to chase one after the other.

he’d told everyone else that he was done with the film now; that he’d stopped giving a shit about adam, the jigsaw killer had become far too ‘mainstream’ anyway. so what was this? what was he still doing here? this had become just as much about lawrence now as it had been about the photographer. somewhere along the blurred lines of messy feelings-- angers in scarlet, envy in  jade, the doctor had refracted with that crystal cool diamond of his. a light far too bright and blinding for scott to tell left from right anymore. what we wanted, what he felt, what he needed.

what a messy way to mourn. the doctor’s lips are so much softer that he had ever anticipated them to be. the passion and inexperience of youth fumbling over pink flesh carelessly as he clutches at the man’s shirt to pull him closer. the other hand dares the venture up, past the back of the man’s neatly pressed collar to indulge in the destruction of that perfectly combed hair. it balls itself into the bristles of blonde, pulling him closer still. his lips are rough as they capture the other, cracked and dry as they meet with a fevered desperation. 

fighting with him, talking with him, laughing with him, none of this had brought scott any closer to filling that void so dark and consuming in the pit of his stomach, that void that appeared only when he looked at lawrence. only made itself known in his company. what else was there to try, what other words could desperate lips scream to get this feeling to go away? what else could he try? 

teeth snag flesh as scott pushes himself against the doctor, letting go of his hair to grab at his hip as kisses hot and wet plant themselves on his jaw. that heat of the doctor’s cologne is near intoxicating. so fresh and clean, so unfamiliar, so him.

“doc..” breath is hot in rough pant that seems to find even scott surprised at the course of his own action. but he can’t stop, doesn’t want to stop-- if lawrence is willing. if lawrence dared to know; to learn something about adam that anecdote could not contain.

@cutfoot

[untestxd]

“So you know I’ve been working on this little case now for a few weeks.    Cops are going missing, more criminal’s corpses are being found     splayed out all over the joint. What little’s left of them anyway.     And despite that, there’s still been no sign of that pussy, Adam.    Guess he must be all mangled up somewhere fuckin’ dreadful.     Figures that much.    But that’s why we’re here today. One thing I never told you about Adam?     There’s two of them. Like the fucking Shining. Some Freaky Friday shit;     he’s a twin. This here is a picture of David. Some tweaker who works       over at the hospital our Dear Johnny boy was treated at.      This shit’s all connected, I tell you. ---- Anyway, why am I even bothering      with that right now? So what, he had a brother? Well get this----       not long before Adam went missing, Jigsaw got his bloody little hands       all over him too. But he survived. Bastard’s seen some fucked up shit,      but it turns out it’s just back to business as usual.      So that’s why we’re here. We’re gonna hear first hand what kinda          shit it takes to fuckin’ survive one of these games, and maybe get         some sorta idea on how these are all connected. 

                                              Which fucking sucks, because I can’t                                                  stand the guy.”   

A disgustingly satisfied smirk plasters its way across smug features as Scott reviews the footage on his camcorder. It had been placed up on the dashboard of his car- and the lighting looked pretty good, if  he did say so himself. After one more watch through, he closes the  scuffed up silver frame of the screen with a gentle click and steps out of his car. Cigarette dangling from his lip, like some sort of self-imaged cowboy, he saddled up to the orderly’s apartment and hit record as he knocked on the door.

         ‘Hey David. It’s me. Scott Tibbs. Wrath of the Gods, buddy.            I’m here to talk about Jigsaw.”

[ᴛʜᴇ sᴄᴏᴛᴛ ᴛɪʙʙs ᴅᴏᴄᴜᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʀʏ, ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 𝟶.𝟻] / @blendintowalls

[untestxd]

you’re beautiful, boys suck. (had to edit it a little but :powercry: tbh)

party  sentence   starters. ( x )

“I’mm beautiful?? Shhhh, shhh no no no, you’re beautiful. You’re ssso beautiful, they suck so much. They fuckin’ suck.” His words slur, smile-stained and hot into the crook of Adam’s neck, laughter tickling the exposed and flushed skin. Mindless agreement seemed to be all that danced on his lips, all that was coherent at least between frothing chuckle.

Arms are draped around his friend’s shoulders, flesh weighted like lead against his frame. Grin is full and sweaty forehead taps against Adam’s own. Somehow, hushing each other’s whispers and drunken laughter, through a tangle of limbs they had wrangled each other into an empty room. Scott’s eyes are squeezed tight with whiskey-drowned amusement as he continues to attempt to hush the other despite his own condition. The pair were as far from subtle as they could get. But when this intoxicated, they might has well have been the world’s most adept super-spies.

“You’re such a fucking idiot…” he breathes in the giddy air, feeling the photographer’s arms wrapped tight around his waist. The four-legged beast dizzy in it’s stagger bridled Scott’s back against a wardrobe, causing whatever had been laying on top to crash to the floor.

He gasped childishly, eyes wide as if mocking Adam’s recklessness, “Look what you did!” Scott teases, voice low and rich in the shared breath bumbling between them. He rubs his forehead affectionately against the other’s temple, spirit-kissed lips only inches apart in their playful mockery. “Look at what you did,” he repeats unable to stop laughing as he pulls him closer, “You’re gonna get in trouble~”

Digits travel to tug at the strands of thick, and slightly damp, dark hair on the top of his head. The soft fur is like putty in his hands, a distraction as he feels the delicious heat from Adam’s own breath brush against his lips. It was like gravity, a magnet pulling him hard and fast to race to the man’s core. Fruit far too much of a treat not to give himself over to. It’s in the moment between laughter, a hitch in breath as his back hits the wardrobe again that they finally meet.

Tension’s flame hot and thick and damp between them as they fall over the cliff they had been teetering on all night. He’s not quite sure who pushed in first, and he’s not quite sure he cares; Scott’s laughter suffocates in the meeting of their kiss.

Scott had only invited Adam to the party to help distract him from that pit of misery he’d resigned himself to for the last couple of days. Break-ups were never fun, sure, but they were always easier to manage with some friends and some laughter to break through stain-glass memories. He hadn’t anticipated to be picking up the pieces himself, a mosaic man with jagged edges.

“Now you’re really gonna get in trouble…” Scott mutters against his lips, the temperature between them rising as tongue meets with teeth and then tongue again in the drunken mess of it all. A groan fizzles to further laughter as fang nips at skin, taking opportunity to pollute his neck with heat. “I thought boys sucked…”

@wantslife

[untestxd]

parties aren’t my thing. ( from crash <3 )

party  sentence   starters. ( x )

The quietly uttered phrase was enough to rouse a snort of laughter from his fellow guitarist. That sound of surprise blossomed into full-on, whiskey soaked laughter as he gets sight of the shorter man’s features.

“You don’t say.” Scott grins, shaking his head at the absurdity found in stating the obvious; the last rays of bright laughter trickle to nothing more than sun-soaked giggles. Even in the dimness of the bar, Scott Tibbs on a good day could bring blinding light to the party.

“Why’d you even bother to show up to these things, man?” He questions with smile woven into words, resting elbow on the corner of the bar, letting his drink follow suit. The musician hadn’t expected to see Crash here at all, the mop-top man a rare sighting outside of his shows. Some say that Crash Wilson was a cryptid. All Scott knows is that Crash Wilson can’t stand to be around him or his band.

Then why was he still hovering around him? Perhaps this light had drawn to it a moth.

@rabbitsrun

[untestxd]

[ OKAY ]

[ OKAY ] - sender gives receiver a hug in order to assure them that in the end, everything will indeed be okay.

ᴀ sʜᴏᴠᴇ.  ᴀ sʟᴀᴘ. ᴀ ᴘᴜɴᴄʜ.  Any of those, Scott would have been prepared for. Another blazing encounter had erupted between them; earthquake meeting inferno with devastating results. A comment given here, a reply snarled there, and a steady supply of booze had been the ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛ ɪɴɢʀᴇᴅɪᴇɴᴛs to conjure such mutually assured destruction. Rough, calloused hands hand pushed against the orderly’s shoulder harsh. The other had returned biting blow in kind. Raised to their feet, Goliath met David at the banks of the river. Words spat, tumbling out, insults drove tension further and further. But then, as inevitable - David would be the one to throw the stone; sending mighty giant tumbling down.

For they both knew the makings of such a brawl. There was no hatred held towards the other. Not really. They weren’t even the target for angry blow. And whilst Scott had maybe been too wrapped up in his own shit as usual, the other had been able to see this fact clearly. The pain had been etched so deep already in his eyes.

His arms wrapped themselves around the guitarist. At first, Scott had thought this had meant to be some sort of grapple, ready to topple them both down under the water kicking and screaming. But David’s arms were slack, body unmoving. The rock hit the giant square in the temple, sling cast in its awful victory. Scott stopped fidgeting, tempest quickly bottled and contained all in one parcel of arms. His breath caught in his throat, a lump forming where curses were previously held.

David didn’t need to say anything. He knew. And Scott knew.

He knew what rest painfully on tired bones, what image burned into the hearts of both men. The missing piece carved with cold, harsh, blood-stained fingers. Skin dug underneath nails, blunt and brutal. And so sudden.

Nothing could have prepared either of them for that loss. For that sudden absence. And they could fight, and they could bicker, and they could brawl all they wanted. But that anger would never fade. Because it wasn’t made for each other. Sorrow manifesting in bitter remarks; a back-and-forth Scott was sure both of them were sick of. It didn’t change anything. ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴀs sᴛɪʟʟ ɢᴏɴᴇ.

This was no matter of blood. No matter of lineage. It was a matter of heart, and the shards of it that lay shattered and painful at their feet. A matter for those left behind to pick up the pieces. To live with such haunting mosaic.

Scott didn’t resist. David’s arms felt warm and unfamiliar; but it was an embrace Scott didn’t know he needed. He knew.       David knew.                     And it was ok.                             They were going to be ok.

Eyes clenched tight as the guitarist let his arms fall slack, falling limp at his side. He wouldn’t say anything, he didn’t think his body would let him even if he wanted to. Instead, Scott’s head felt to the crook of David’s neck, burying it there. He felt his body shake with rage’s residue mingling with desperate restraint as he did his best not to sob. Not now. Not here. Not in front of him. That was for later, for when he was alone.

How long had it been now? A month? Two?

Did it matter?

A sharp exhale of air, painful and burning in the back of his throat, he pulled out of the embrace, turning away just to spare himself any last dignity. Palm quickly traced over his features, exiling any stray raindrop that might betray him. It was ok.

“…Whatever…” Was all he could manage, trying to match the same anger he had let roar through him only a while ago. But the beast had been vanquished, and what stood before David now was just another boy.

“Jus..Just don’t.”

@blendintowalls