read all your stories on ao3 and was wondering if you have any thoughts on desolation! Tim with Jon? because Jon heals fast and Tim likes to burn him
Oh I have very many thoughts, please enjoy whatever this monstrosity I managed to write. Also I think Tim should get to feed on Jon and Jon should get to feed on Tim because mutual self destruction is fun. Can you make fourth degree burns sexy? Today we find out.
The first time Tim had burned him it had been an accident, growing pains with his new abilities. He had apologized, even as Jon’s skin immediately returned to its former state. Only it kept happening, little touches, nothing even close to the damage Jude had done. Burning fingertips that left little round burns, like someone was putting cigarettes out on his arm. Jon didn’t mind it much, but well he was curious, so finally he decided he had to ask Tim as he was leaving his office.
“Are you doing this on purpose?” It was meant to be lighthearted, just a joke, but too late Jon heard the static on his tongue.
“Yes,” Tim’s response was too fast to be anything but a product of compulsion. His expression morphing from horror, to anger as he continued speaking, clearly trying to fight it. “It takes the edge off the hunger, and it’s not like you’ll stop me.”
“Sorry I di-,” Jon broke off into a yelp as Tim shoved him back pinning him between his body and the desk. Jon was reminded again how much taller than him Tim was, as he practically loomed over him, eyes flickering with an unnatural glow.
“I want to do so much worse to you,” Jon could feel the heat radiating off Tim as the words continued to be pulled out. Part of Jon was terrified, the other was feasting on every word he ripped from Tim, it wasn’t exactly a statement, but the Eye still seemed pleased. “I think it would be better sometimes, at least then I’m not hurting an innocent person, and it’s not like I could do anything permanent.”
Jon couldn’t even argue that point, it was true, Jon was a monster, and better him than someone who couldn’t heal. That fact didn’t stop him from whimpering as Tim ran a burning finger down his cheek, even as he couldn’t look away. Part of him wanted to flee, to run, but instead all Jon could do was continue listening, even as his eyes watered in pain he couldn’t stop staring.
“And you would let me wouldn’t you? You’d probably like it. Sometimes I wonder if you make me angry on purpose, just so I’ll snap. ” Jon managed to hold back a yelp as he was lifted, so he was now seated on top of his desk, it didn’t correct the height disparity much. If his heart still beat Jon wondered if it would be pounding in fear, or anticipation. “I could burn you down to your bones, and you’d just keep watching.”
With that last sentence Tim snapped out of it his eyes narrowing, the unnatural glow was still there, but it seemed his pseudo statement was over. Jon resisted the urge to dig further to know more, Tim still had statements that Jon hadn’t taken yet. It was like taking a bite of a meal, then being whisked away from the table before you had even swallowed.
“What the fuck boss?” Jon flinched, apologies flooding onto his tongue, but he was almost scared to speak, worried he’d compel him. Tim didn’t let him sort through his thoughts grabbing him by his shoulders and shaking him. He looked horrified and angry again, but underneath it all Jon could now see the hunger burning beneath everything.
“You could,” Jon was careful to keep his words static free as he stared up at Tim, he wanted to help, needed to do something. But the last thing he needed was to compel him again, who knew how’d he react. Jon felt like his own words were being pulled out now, the Eye urging him on, feeding his own curiosity. “Use me for that I mean, let me help.”
“You’re insane,” Tim muttered but didn’t let go, and Jon could feel the heat spreading from Tim’s grip on his shoulders, still bearable, more like a mild sunburn. Painful, but nothing compared to most of what he had experienced recently, nothing that would fill the emptiness of Tim’s hunger was anything like his own. Jon could practically see the thoughts churning behind Tim’s eyes, not literally, the Eye didn’t seem to want to impart that information, but it was clear Tim was going to refuse, to run away, and Jon, and the Eye, couldn’t have that.
“Hurt me Tim come on,” Jon grabbed onto the front of Tim’s shirt with his burned hand, pulling him closer. He barely managed to fight back the static itching the back of his throat. “It’s not like I haven’t been burned before.”
“God you’re impossible,” Tim released his shoulders to instead take his face in his hands. The contact with bare skin was a lot more painful than his shoulders had been, though still nothing worse than a first degree. If he could see his face he wondered if it made him look like he was blushing as Tim’s thumbs lightly stroked his cheeks leaving a stripe of pain.
Jon would have responded, maybe to antagonize him more, to push him to lose his temper. He was terrified, but the feeling was almost drowned out by just how much he needed to know what would happen. Only as he opened his mouth Tim chose to lean forward sealing his lips over his. If his hands had been warm his lips were searing, it hurt, and Jon tried to pull away immediately a scream bubbling up, but he was held tightly. His scream turned to a choked off whimper into Tim’s mouth as the part of him that remembered that this was a bad idea suddenly was no longer drowned out by curiosity.
Jon could feel his skin start to blister, a second degree burn the Eye offered as tears started to flow down his cheeks, sizzling away as the water contacted Tim’s skin. That seemed to get his attention as he pulled back, releasing his face to change his grip to his waist instead, skin once more partially protected by cloth. Tim’s pupils were blown wide and Jon could see nothing but fire behind them, he could even see his reflection, the burns already healing, leaving him unharmed and panting with only the memory of pain.
“Does it hurt Boss?” Jon flinched as Tim’s hands slid beneath his shirt, bypassing the scant protection of the cloth. He didn’t seem to actually want an answer, digging his burning fingers into the smattering of worm scars in the space between his ribs and his hips. Jon not wanting to scream, not knowing if anyone would hear him in the rest of the institute immediately fastened his teeth into his hand, blocking any sound other than a muffled whimper. He could taste blood, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of fingers sliding through his skin like well, like a hot knife through butter.
The thought almost made him laugh, perhaps the pain had already made him a bit delirious. He wondered if the Eye could put back everything that was being destroyed as Tim’s hands sank deeper. He wasn’t bleeding, the heat searing any damaged vessels shut immediately. Jon had thought shaking Jude’s hand was the worst a burn could feel, but it had only hurt for a few moments until all the nerves in his hand were destroyed. Now though, now he could feel them repairing themselves as the heat passed over them, burning them away again as soon as they formed.
Jon was surprised he hadn’t passed out, but well the Eye clearly wanted to see what was happening, it wouldn’t let him close his eyes. It was a struggle for him to look down, to see just what Tim had done, but he knew he needed to see. He didn’t know what he had expected but the sight was certainly worse. His skin was blacked in places, though the rapid healing had those places sealing up again, crusting over, only to be seared again as Tim shifted his grip.
The sight of something white inside had him freezing, thoughts immediately flashing to Prentiss’s awful parasites, but no, that wasn’t larvae that had missed, that was the bone of his hip, skin peeled away like clay, as Tim’s thumb rested on the protrusion. Jon wondered if he’d have an indentation there as even the bone couldn’t stand up to the heat, his thumb sinking in, marking him. It didn’t hurt, there were no nerves there, but it still felt wrong, and that was the point the Eye seemed satisfied, no longer forcing Jon to stay conscious to watch his own pain.
Starting to lose his fight with consciousness he slumped forward into Tim, who caught him. Hands no longer buried inside him, now held his shoulders gently, the heat warm now and no longer burning. His nerves now seeing their chance started to not back together with flesh and bone, each second agony as his body erased any trace of what happened. Of course it wasn’t until he was fully healed that his eyes began to droop, making him feel every agonizing second as Tim held him close. Jon he felt a gentle hand press his sweat soaked hair out of his face, before feeling himself lifted up. He let his head rest against what he was fairly certain was Tim’s chest, no longer silent, but instead occupied by a steady heartbeat.
“Did it help?” His voice sounded cracked and painful, and if he weren’t on the edge of consciousness he would have probably asked for water. Jon flinched as he was jostled as Tim let out a short bark of laughter, before Jon felt himself being set onto something soft, probably the cot in document storage.
“Get some rest idiot,” Tim’s voice was softer than it had been since the stalking incident. Jon wanted to ask if he would stay with him, would just hold him for a bit, even if he was t getting anything out of it. But Jon bit off those words, he had no right to ask Tim for anything, especially not comfort.
“Fine,” Jon mumbled burying his face into his pillow as he finally let his consciousness fade. Tim’s footsteps as he left the room the last thing he heard before plunging into one of his victim’s nightmares,
