Title: A Terrible Waste
Author: Donnie
Fandom: Saw
Setting: Special Agent Peter Strahm's Office
Pairing: Mark Hoffman/Peter Strahm
Characters: Mark Hoffman, Peter Strahm, John Kramer
Genre: Romance/Drama
Rating: T
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 851
Type of Work: One-Shot, Part of the Kiss Me You Fool series
Status: Complete
Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Gore Mentions, Violence Mention, Death Mention, Spoilers, Mark thinks he's sneaky
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: Peter Strahm's obsession with Mark Hoffman just dove a little deeper.
AN: So, I was looking for content for these two and didn't find nearly enough. I figured I could contribute. xD I found a kissing prompt that I wanted to mess with, so here we go.
A Terrible Waste ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Peter Strahm was a man possessed.
After Lindsey's brush with a trap, a trap that he should have saved her from, a preventable pain, his mind had turned to vengeance. Maybe not the kind that most people would want to see, but definitely seeing the man responsible pay.
And he knew just who it was that needed to.
Mark Hoffman was a smart man, he was clever, he was deceitful, and, above all, he was good at acting like he was some savior.
The only person who saw through his lies and his bullshit was the one person who had once found Mark to be handsome. There had been maybe a little, misguided crush there, before he'd been thoroughly crushed in a different way. With the hole in his neck, he had started to piece things together. Mark's glory hog behavior, the certainty that he hadn't survived, it all lead him to believe that there was something wrong.
Bent over his desk, smoothing out the reports he had been pouring over, he huffed again. Breathing was difficult, standing, moving, all of the things he had done throughout his whole life, everything was so damn hard. Grave injuries taught people things. Most people leaned one way or another; 'I'm thankful I survived.' or 'Why am I still alive.'
And then there was Peter.
I have a purpose.
He was filled with the glory that purpose gave him, even if it might have pushed him to obsession. And the more he became obsessed with Mark Hoffman, the more he was positive that he was not coming back from the abyss.
"Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves."
Strahm had decided, in that classroom filled with candles, that he was willing to die if he could take Mark Hoffman with him.
The door to his office swung open and it didn't quite shake him from his troubled thoughts. So lost in himself, he didn't notice that the space between them closed rapidly, and he was whipped around before he knew it. Eyes wide, his jaw dropped slightly as he lips crashed into his, a squeak leaving him that wasn't quite the manly warcry he'd tried for.
Mark's hands wrapped around his wrists, and he was too weak in the knees to try and fight him as he pinned him down to the heavy desk. His body was a firm weight pushing Peter down against the desk, bending his files and fanning out photographs beneath him. Tongue an insistent press against the other's teeth, Mark knew he had to make this one count. Pinning the special agent to the desk, hands above his head, he ground against him hard.
Everything about the kiss was rough, they both tasted blood but couldn't determine whose it was. Finally, Mark's hands dug into the back of Peter's head, carding through his hair as his head tipped to the side. Deepening the kiss, it was with a dizzying kind of realization that Peter Strahm finally found out just how deep his obsession with this man went. There was a moan, swallowed up by both of their mouths, and he wasn't entire sure if it was his or his new partner's.
Just as suddenly as it had happened, Mark's body was gone, his lips were nowhere to be found, and the cold that settled over Peter's body could have made a New York winter jealous. Wide blue eyes stared up at the other man, his vision bobbing with every heavy pant he greedily took.
Mark simply licked his lips, the look on his face almost unreadable, but his eyes held a kind of hunger that made Peter shudder. It was obvious that the other man was struggling to keep his breathing even, even if his pride wouldn't let him admit to it. Peter had stolen his breath just the same, feeling like maybe using something as base as a kiss and mutual lust to deter him might have been a bad idea. He was no longer in full control, and while that was terrifying, it also held so many possibilities.
But it left so much to chance.
A stare-off seemed to be the only thing they were capable of doing, now, and the two men kept their eyes locked on one another until a phone call shook them both from their thoughts.
"Ah, yeah, this is special agent Strahm." Peter answered, watching with an odd mix of guilt and panic as Mark made a beeline for the door in that oddly dominating stride of his. Half of him wanted to follow the other, the phone be damned. What he hadn't noticed was the piece of paper pressed neatly to the top of his messy files with a phone number on it.
He knew this was going to end in bloodshed, but he'd always been the type to play with fire. It would be a terrible waste of his life not to explore just what was going to come of this, after all. Thankfully, Hoffman seemed to agree just as heartily.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN:
Prompt: Kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing.