sinking into the sand
an anthology of sorts: collecting all my noteworthy donquixote doflamingo/donquixote rocinante drabbles from tumblr and posting them on here. drabbles might be canon, might not, might be interconnected, might not. content is questionable, but that's half the fun. really.
i. hands: rocinante muses over doflamingo's hands.
: canon-verse, explicit incestuous content, ft. a guy who got his brains blown out. this one didn't need to be polished up and off, so it was the easiest one to post first.
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"Fufufu..." Doflamingo chuckles lowly as he playfully presses the pistol against the whimpering man's temple. It's meant as much as a tease as a threat and the cold metal of the barrel trails along to the gaunt of the man's cheek.
His index finger swipes over the cylinder in an anticipatory reflex, the movement akin to a match being stricken. Corazon crosses his arms and falls back against the wall, cradled by the feathery mass of his coat. He doesn't know what to focus on: the deadlock his brother has on the man's shoulder or the hand that holds the pistol. His eyes narrow when Doflamingo drums his fingertips into the guy's shoulder, one by one, automatically. effortlessly.
Doffy coils around the man until his face is but a hairbreadth from the man's other cheek. His words come from the grinning chasm of his mouth.
(death doesn't have lips)
"Y'know someone once told me.. Oh, I don't really remember who, but who cares? Anyway.." Corazon can't tear his gaze away from the fingers curled over the man's shoulder. "Someone once told me a bullet through his cheek is the most painful thing that's ever happened to him." They move to the cadence of Doffy's smooth voice.
"But a guy with a bullet wound in his cheek might be ugly." Here he directs the barrel back to the man's temple. Corazon feels something sink to the bottom of his stomach as his eyes inevitably fall back onto the hand that holds the gun.
His older brother sounds so sensual, so promising and his fingers reflect the melody of his voice, of his intentions. "A man with a bullet through his brain is just dead." His lips curl into a menacing smile, to show off his teeth and his gums and that small flash of tongue that Rocinante fears.
(death only has teeth.)
Corazon dips his chin and feels his makeup crust and crack rusty red as his mouth thins into a straight line. His hat falls lower over his forehead and presses his messy bangs against his skin. The man starts stammering the combination of a safe, starts to plead for his life and he has a family and a wife and three kids. Baby 5 begins to laugh and clap her hands when Doffy nods along the nonsense as if he gives one single fuck.
He wants to shield her eyes. doffy's index finger curls over the trigger. He doesn't.
"Come here, Corazon." His older brother beckons lazily, one index finger crooked out in invitation.
He stumbles upright and staggers over, almost collides into Doffy. Hands come to ghost over his hips, settle on his flanks. Rocinante thinks the imprint of those palms are going to be burned into his flesh forever and his breath hitches and gets stuck to the inside of his cheeks. He presses their foreheads together as those fingertips press down. Their mouths are so close, but Rocinante can only feel his hands.
He wants to close his eyes.
"Corazon..." Doffy murmurs playfully as he grins up at him, exposes his teeth and gums and a flash of..
He doesn't and watches himself in the purple glass of his brother's shades, getting closer.
"My precious little brother." This isn't meant as an endearment, this is a leash and it's being yanked.
Rocinante feels his hands more urgently than he feels his lips, feels the soft nudge of his teeth sinking into his bottom one. (death doesn't have lips. death doesn't have lips. - his mouth moves against his brother's.
death only has teeth.)
"What do you say, Baby 5?" Doffy begins humorously as he lets go of the man's shoulder and clenches his fingers reflexively. "Are we going to crack a safe?" His tone of voice is even as if he didn't just blow a guy's brains out.
Baby 5 cheers and skips over to her young master's right leg, latching onto his knee with her slender arms. She nods up at him, completely disregarding the blood and brain matter and the pieces of skull, the dead man on the ground and his dry open eyes.
"Corazon, come over here. We're going." Doffy extends his hand to him as he says this. His fingers look unblemished, clean safe for the specks of gunpowder.
He regards his older brother's hand and pushes himself off the wall.
(feels a hand down his lower back when he's at his older brother's side. rocinante wonders if he's trying to wipe off blood on the back of his shirt.)