i adore the desolation!tim and jon fic, would be really interesting to see the dynamic between again, perhaps even more compelling from jons side and tim being a bit possessive perhaps? just need them to get off on destroying each other. just if you feel like it ofc <3

Alright welcome to fourth degree burns two electric boogaloo.

Jon was starving.

The Statements scattered across his desk, each picked over for any morsels of fear, had barely touched the gaping empty hole that had taken up residence inside his ribcage. He reached for another statement, but already he knew it was one already picked clean.

Desperation drove him toward the door, there had to be something that could take the edge off. There had to be a statement left that would work. His hand shook as he turned the handle, only to fall back as the door was shoved open landing on his tailbone with a wince. He tried to get up again but another spike of hunger had him doubling over, half-laying on the floor as pain rolled through him.

“-ss, Boss, Jon can you hear me?” As the pain quieted from all consuming to terrible ache Jon blinked up at Tim who was half-cradling him, panic clear on his face. Instinctive words started to crawl their way out of his throat soaked in static, he managed to bite them off, by sinking his teeth into his tongue hard enough to sever part of it, only too feel it crawl back together. It felt revolting, too reminiscent of the worms, but it served to keep the static from his next words.

“Yes, sorry I fell,”Jon ignored the blood that trickled out of his mouth from his recently severed then healed tongue, hoping Tim might not notice. Which of course was a bit unlikely, still he tried to push Tim away but it was weak, and Tim didn’t even seem to notice.

“Pretty sure I knocked you down,” Tim helped him to his feet and Jon was just thankful that he managed to stay standing, though his legs were trembling. Jon waited for Tim to let go, but he didn’t release his arm. Tim was looking at him a friend on his face before using his free hand to swipe at the blood that dripped from his mouth. “You doing okay?”

“I’m fine, just going to get a Statement,” Tim’s pointed glance at his desk upon which was a stack papers beside a stack of clearly recently recorded tapes, a full meal for your average Archivist was not subtle. Still stubborn to a fault Jon tried to pull away again but Tim easily shifted the pair of them once more trapping Jon between himself and his desk.

“Are those even enough for you anymore?” Jon flinched, even though Tim’s tone wasn’t accusatory it was another nail in the coffin of Jon’s remaining humanity. Jon tried to resist Tim tipping his chin up, but he quickly lost the battle, forcing their eyes to meet. Jon, so used to the disgust behind everyone’s eyes, is momentarily surprised by the understanding, only for it to hit him. Of course Tim would be the one person who couldn’t judge him, not when he saw the same hunger lurking there. It was all too much, fro him to resist, not when he could practically taste the fear behind those eyes. Jon was only half surprised to hear the recorder, with a fresh tape appearing out of seemingly nowhere, click on as static wormed its way up his throat.

“Tell me what it was like, after the explosion,” Static curled around his tongue the words no longer his own. He tried to bite back the rest but his jaw refused to work for him, he couldn’t even blink, eyes fixed on Tim’s which were aflame now. Jon could practically see his words laden with hooks, crawling down Tim’s throat to fasten around every tasty morsel of fear he still had that the Eye had not managed to drag into the light.

They were both trapped there, predator and prey as Tim was forced to speak, and Jon was forced to listen. Mercifully the Statement was short.

As silence fell Jon felt like had had finally eaten after days of starving. The hungry emptiness inside now gorged on Tim’s fear, nestling up to the immediate stab of guilt. The worst part was the sliver of himself that felt content, that relished the power he had, just for a moment, he was the one in control.

“Tim I’m-” His words were cut off with a pained scream, as Tim grabbed him, clothes and skin almost instantly destroyed by the heat, of which only his skin healed. If Jon’s entire being wasn’t currently focused on the pain he probably would have been embarrassed, but it was hard to worry about modesty when most of your skin was flaking away along with your clothes.

“Don’t, no apologies,” Tim’s voice was ragged, as he leaned close, voice barely above a whisper, searing heat against Jon’s ear. Jon bit back a whimper, feeling his skin bubble, scab and heal in a matter of moments. Jon tried to bite back whimpers as Tim brushed fingers no longer heated to a flash point but still on the side of just a little too much over his now bare skin. “Can’t blame a monster for its instincts.”

“I’m not-,” Jon cut himself off this time. Wasn’t he? Wasn’t it just instinct? Was it really that bad? Why did he have to starve himself? Jon was pulled out of his crisis of humanity by Tim pressing his too warm lips to his. Tim forced him to bend back further and further until had no choice but to let himself lay flat onto, the thankfully clear spot on, his desk. Tim pulled back enough to meet Jon’s eyes, clearly slightly out of breath, his chest heaving beneath clothes that were also smoldering and completely soaked with sweat.

Jon’s own clothing had fared much worse, his upper half completely bare, while the rest of him was only covered by smoldering scraps that were quickly losing structural integrity. A mixture of panic from his last dregs of professionalism, and the need to know that was only partly him caused another wave of static to flow under his next words. “Why?”

“Because I want to hurt you, I want to mark you, let everyone see it. I killed you, you’re a monster because of me which makes you mine.” Tim didn’t try to fight the compulsion this time letting it pry the words out easily each dripping like wax as he loomed over Jon. “I want to fuck you, watch you come apart, destroy you and then put you back together, so I can tear you apart again.”

“Oh” Jon felt like he wasn’t quite connected to what he was saying. The part of his brain that usually made decisions was currently out of commission, and really what else was one supposed to say to something like that. Thank you for the confession, good to know? Please take me over my desk right now? Actually I need five to seven business days to process this please come back later? Jon felt almost hysterical giggles bubbling up at the whole situation. Here he was lying mostly naked on his desk, being propositioned and threatened at the same time?

“For now though I want to eat you out on this desk until you can’t say anything but please and more.” Jon felt his face heat up again, It really wasn’t fair that Tim could say things like that. Even without the compulsion Tim had always been very confident. “Until you’re just a broken little thing.”

Jon sometimes wished he could tear answers out of himself, because right now he was both squirming at the thought and mortified at the possibility that someone could walk in at any moment, and he wasn’t sure which feeling was stronger. Instead of a complicated response he managed a short nod and a muttered lock the door, hoping that was the last bit of coherent communication he would need, anymore and he might just pass out from sheer embarrassment.

Tim clearly found that amusing based on the short laugh before he acquiesced the lock clicking as Jon looked anywhere else. Distracted as he was Tim caught him by surprise, his hands once more hot enough to sink past the skin and muscle of his thighs to grasp bone. He could feel his body trying to heal, nerves branching out constantly seared away. It was like waves, each a little weaker than the last but each one made Jon writhe and whimper grasping for anything to hold onto that wasn’t searing hot.

It was painful enough that Jon was certain if he was still human he would have passed out. Well he would probably be in shock, as it was the intensity slowly shifted, as his body somehow able to adapt tome Tim’s hands inside him, like they were meant to be there. He wondered if there would be permanent indents were his fingers pressed against bone, molding it to fit his use.

The first swipe of Tim’s tongue against his clit had Jon arching off the desk, which did not bode well for his chances of not losing his mind. He was thankful his tongue was only slightly warm, though he doubted it would stay that way, not when Tim had promised to break him. Still he was apparently starting off easy, lapping at his folds gently enough that Jon could almost catch his breath. Jon let his eyes flick closed, only to have his vision suddenly shift, the eye clearly wanted to see, mortifying voyeur that it was.

Tim didn’t seem to notice the smattering of scars that blinked open on his inner thigh, each a vivid green, as he continued lavishing attention on Jon’s cunt. Not until Jon shuddered through his first orgasm as Tim nipped at his clit. The angle was very odd for Jon, and the almost detached alien curiosity almost managed to drown out the absolute mortification he felt as he saw his own pussy clench unable to hold back a weak moan.

“Just can’t resist watching can you?” Jon yelped as Tim nipped the inside of his thigh right beside his new eyes. The skin melted beneath his mouth the heat making the eyes flinch closed, only to have another smattering open on his other leg, a bit higher up this time as though defiant. Tim shook his head apparently giving up the losing battle, returning his attention to Jon’s clit, suckling gently.

Jon keened softly, the pain of his fingers around his bones had mostly faded, overwhelmed by pleasure. He could feel his coherency slipping as Tim continued to savour him, like he was a delicious meal, and he was starving. It was all too much as he came again, his cunt clenching weakly down on Tim’s tongue. It was at that point that Jon decided that coherency was overrated letting his brain be washed out between waves of pleasure, interspersed with pain.