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kinkfestTitle: Circumstance
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gisho
Rating: R
Warnings: Implied sex
Wordcount: ~700
Prompt: American Gods, Low Key/Shadow: prison sex - "Circumstances rule men; men do not rule circumstances" (Herodotus)
Low Key had told Shadow once, with considerable amusement, that more Americans died every year from teddy bears than actual bear attacks. Shadow had asked him how you die from a teddy bear. Low Key smiled, the scars dancing around his lips. "All sorts of ways. You can choke on the eyes, if they come loose, for example. You know how little kids pop things in their mouths."
It wasn't quite as nasty as his usual smile, and it had occured to Shadow to wonder, for the first time, if his cellmate had any children. Shadow and Laura had agreed to wait until things were a little more steady for them, although from prison that time seemed impossiby far away.
He remembered that now as his cellmate smiled the same slightly softer-than-usual smile, which was a lot more disturbing when the lips that made it, a few seconds earlier, had been wrapped around his cock. "There now," Low Key said. "Was that so bad?"
It hadn't been; he had almost ripped holes in the sheets. He wasn't sure how to respond. Where did you learn to suck cock so well? didn't seem quite right; he was afraid of what the answer might be. Prison, maybe. But nobody messed with Low Key any more than Shadow. He was skinny and small, but he radiated menace. He settled for, "Why?"
"You looked like you needed to get laid." Low Key sat back on his heels and shrugged. Numbly, Shadow began doing up his jeans. "You miss your wife, don't you? Did she ever blow you sitting on the edge of the bed?"
His hands twitched and he had to prevent himself from reaching out to pound Low Key into the ground. There was really no call. "None of your fucking business," he said, and closed his eyes. He didn't know why he had agreed. It was just a matter of circumstance. He did miss her, that much was true, missed her very much indeed, and hadn't seen her in most of a year, god, it was their wedding anniversary tomorrow. He'd picked the wrong time to give in. It wouldn't happen again. Couldn't. It was just something that happened because he was in prison and this sort of thing happened and his cellmate had probably been right, he did need to get laid.
When he opened his eyes again Low Key was rinsing his mouth at the tiny metal sink. "I don't know why so many women complain about the taste," he said to nobody in particular. "Compared to the crap they call dinner here . . . You look like a fish, you know that? Your jaw's hanging open." He raised an eyebrow and Shadow shut his mouth. He did not offer to reciprocate; the idea was too disturbing. After that remark, as well, it was all be could do to sit quietly and not lash out. Moving slowly, like a drugged man, he took of his shoes, climbed under his scratchy blanket without undressing, and turned over to face the wall. He lay there without moving for a long time. At some point he fell asleep, but he could not have said when.
The next day Low Key didn't mention anything.
A few weeks later, when the old Roman practice of exposing unwanted children had come up in a discussion somehow, Shadow asked Low Key, with a studied casualness, if he had any kids. Low Key laughed, low and bitter, and looked away. "Three," he said. "My daughter's dead. One son left the country. The other one ... he's a big guy. Doesn't like people messing with him. Ripped a man's hand clean off. He'll be getting out sometime around Armageddon." He did not volunteer their names, or the circustances of the daughter's death, or who their mother or mothers had been. Shadow knew better than to ask.
"Sorry," he said instead.
Low Key shrugged. "They were monsters, all of them. A lot of stuff went wrong. Nobody wanted it that way."
That night he hesitantly offered a blowjob, but Low Key shook his head and sniffed, as if the idea offended his pride.
Author:
gishoRating: R
Warnings: Implied sex
Wordcount: ~700
Prompt: American Gods, Low Key/Shadow: prison sex - "Circumstances rule men; men do not rule circumstances" (Herodotus)
Low Key had told Shadow once, with considerable amusement, that more Americans died every year from teddy bears than actual bear attacks. Shadow had asked him how you die from a teddy bear. Low Key smiled, the scars dancing around his lips. "All sorts of ways. You can choke on the eyes, if they come loose, for example. You know how little kids pop things in their mouths."
It wasn't quite as nasty as his usual smile, and it had occured to Shadow to wonder, for the first time, if his cellmate had any children. Shadow and Laura had agreed to wait until things were a little more steady for them, although from prison that time seemed impossiby far away.
He remembered that now as his cellmate smiled the same slightly softer-than-usual smile, which was a lot more disturbing when the lips that made it, a few seconds earlier, had been wrapped around his cock. "There now," Low Key said. "Was that so bad?"
It hadn't been; he had almost ripped holes in the sheets. He wasn't sure how to respond. Where did you learn to suck cock so well? didn't seem quite right; he was afraid of what the answer might be. Prison, maybe. But nobody messed with Low Key any more than Shadow. He was skinny and small, but he radiated menace. He settled for, "Why?"
"You looked like you needed to get laid." Low Key sat back on his heels and shrugged. Numbly, Shadow began doing up his jeans. "You miss your wife, don't you? Did she ever blow you sitting on the edge of the bed?"
His hands twitched and he had to prevent himself from reaching out to pound Low Key into the ground. There was really no call. "None of your fucking business," he said, and closed his eyes. He didn't know why he had agreed. It was just a matter of circumstance. He did miss her, that much was true, missed her very much indeed, and hadn't seen her in most of a year, god, it was their wedding anniversary tomorrow. He'd picked the wrong time to give in. It wouldn't happen again. Couldn't. It was just something that happened because he was in prison and this sort of thing happened and his cellmate had probably been right, he did need to get laid.
When he opened his eyes again Low Key was rinsing his mouth at the tiny metal sink. "I don't know why so many women complain about the taste," he said to nobody in particular. "Compared to the crap they call dinner here . . . You look like a fish, you know that? Your jaw's hanging open." He raised an eyebrow and Shadow shut his mouth. He did not offer to reciprocate; the idea was too disturbing. After that remark, as well, it was all be could do to sit quietly and not lash out. Moving slowly, like a drugged man, he took of his shoes, climbed under his scratchy blanket without undressing, and turned over to face the wall. He lay there without moving for a long time. At some point he fell asleep, but he could not have said when.
The next day Low Key didn't mention anything.
A few weeks later, when the old Roman practice of exposing unwanted children had come up in a discussion somehow, Shadow asked Low Key, with a studied casualness, if he had any kids. Low Key laughed, low and bitter, and looked away. "Three," he said. "My daughter's dead. One son left the country. The other one ... he's a big guy. Doesn't like people messing with him. Ripped a man's hand clean off. He'll be getting out sometime around Armageddon." He did not volunteer their names, or the circustances of the daughter's death, or who their mother or mothers had been. Shadow knew better than to ask.
"Sorry," he said instead.
Low Key shrugged. "They were monsters, all of them. A lot of stuff went wrong. Nobody wanted it that way."
That night he hesitantly offered a blowjob, but Low Key shook his head and sniffed, as if the idea offended his pride.
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