Author: Bitterfig

Title: The Hanged Man

Fandom: Carnivale

Pairing: Brother Justin/Tommy Dolan

Summary: Tommy Dolan wanted to know more than he wanted to be saved.

Word Count: 300

Warnings: Seriously dubious consent, blasphemy.

Rating: R

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. Any illegal acts taking place within that fiction are NOT condoned by the author. Depictions of any questionable, illegal, or potentially illegal activity in said fiction does not mean that I condone, promote, support, participate in, or approve of said activity. Using your evil supernatural powers to make Robert Knepper have sex with you is not cool Don't try this at home. I grasp the distinction between fiction and reality and trust that readers will do the same. I do not profit from the fanfiction I write, and all rights to the characters remain firmly in the hands of their creator.

Author's Note: Written for the lj community slashthedrabble challenge #127:skin

The Hanged Man

Brother Justin removed his white collar and dark cassock. Beneath them a tree was etched upon his skin, branches meshing with his veins, the knotted trunk with his spine. Curious, always going too far looking for the whole story, Tommy Dolan could not help himself, could not help but reach out and touch it.

Touching it he found it was on Justin's skin and under it, an illustration and a reality. Tommy found himself caught by the tree, its branches swayed in the wind, lashing against his face. Its limbs entangled him, drawing him against it rough, hard trunk. Touching it, touching Justin's body he has crossed some line, gone beyond the point of turning back.

As Tommy hung in the tree, Justin was by his side. Undressing him, running his hands over Tommy's bared flanks, his chest, and finally the contours of his face.

"So fine," the Preacher whispered. His eyes were inhuman black. "So very fine and clean but how many dirty, broken men are more pure in heart than you? I have seen the greed in you, the naked ambition, and burning lust. How can I not make use of so willing a tool?"

Tommy cried out at the strange pain of violation when Justin first entered him but the wind whispered in the branches and the Preacher rubbed his thigh soothingly. "Be still," Justin said. "Understand that this is the way to wisdom." And Tommy obeyed because he wanted it, wanted wisdom, secret knowledge more than he wanted to be saved. He surrendered his bleeding body to Justin, to the tree's embrace and around them the church echoed with an Easter hymn.

Were you there when they crucified my lord?

Were you there when they nailed him to the tree.

Sometimes it causes me to tremble…