Archive of Our Own ^beta

From the doorway, Waylon watched the groom silently. The tall man worked on a new dress, he looked so invested in his creation that he didn’t hear the bride calling his name, nor he moved an inch when some Variants screamed in another block. Like that he almost looked human.

If it weren’t for the cold, it wouldn’t even cross Waylon’s mind to break the apparent peace, but his shaking body covered by a simple dress begged to be into the man’s arms. He didn’t care if it sounded pathetic, nobody was there to point it out anyway. And he’d much prefer that than catching a cold, or worst, and becoming useless to the groom’s eyes. The idea of seeing the table saw a second time made him sick.

Waylon Park wasn’t stupid; he knew it’d happen again, and a talk wouldn’t save him like it did the first time. One day, he’d be out of words, out of courage, out of physical strength, and wouldn’t be able to stand against Eddie Gluskin.

Heck, how had he even managed to survive the first time when words seemed to left Eddie unmoved so often?

His ankle was painful that day, perhaps due to the long session of dance they had during the night, but he took on him to walk toward the groom. Knowing a knife was hidden near Eddie, Waylon made his presence known.

“Eddie, can I borrow your laps a minute? I’m freezing.”

Like if the sun started to shine for the first time, Eddie let go of what he was doing and welcomed Waylon with his warmest smile.

“You’ve already finished your book darling?” He made him sat like a fragile porcelain doll and ran his fingers into the blonde hair.

“Almost. I-I was missing you too much to focus.” Waylon falsely confessed. He’d read that book three times already, weeks were long at Mount Massive, and he’d barely anything else to do. And he wouldn’t tell Eddie how cold he felt again, Eddie despised weakness, better going with a lie. Like if the groom could be missed by anyone…

“I missed you too.” Pretended Eddie before kissing him. ‘Pretended’ because, could he even remember Waylon when he wasn’t right under his nose? Gluskin seemed somewhere else most of the time, in his illusions, where they probably had more conversations than in the real world.

Terrible but even after three months together, he knew himself replaceable. Not even by a person, he doubted anyone else here could resonate with the groom, but by the inexistant perfect girl. Eddie would go to his workshop and simply restart his terrible practices in hope to meet her. All he’d meet being death and misery.

“You look beautiful.”

Waylon lifted his face to stare at the groom. Now that was new and seemed to come from nowhere! Suspicious he kept his gaze on the smiling man, waiting to hear something like ‘you’d look even better if I fixed you’ but when nothing came Waylon shyly thanked him.

Eddie had already shown changes, small ones, but Waylon appreciated to not be beaten until passing out anymore. And he liked to receive gifts every time Eddie returned to their block after he adventured himself in the asylum. Waylon couldn’t do it anymore. The Variants had become too dangerous as they needed more blood to satisfy an appetite born with the engine and with all the doctors and guards dead, the engineer would be an excellent alternative. Eddie was one of them, and he was strong, nothing could happen to him in those corridors.

Unconsciously, the smaller man quickly fixed his hair while a smile forced itself on his face.

Beautiful…

The cold disappeared. Eddie was great at warming him up, especially in the bed, when the world around them seemed to fall under the screams and painful noises.

He dominated their embrace, acted selfishly as soon as he entered him, but that was fine. Waylon didn’t like to be in control, and he certainly didn’t wish for Eddie to help him out, if he touched him there everything would end up in the workshop.

It used to hurt, like being stabbed, but they had adjusted to each other. Now Waylon could read onto the groom’s eyes and understand what he wanted, and Waylon was given enough time to prepare himself. It bothered Eddie at first.

‘A woman shouldn’t touch herself like that’.

But he’d ceased to say a word after a couple of times, finding his position of watcher arousing.

The squeaked bed rhythmed their silent embrace, it got worst with the time as they overused it, sex being their main way of communication. Even though it was dangerous, Eddie liked to watch his face while they fucked, sometimes even wrapping a hand around his neck to stop Waylon from hiding his reddening cheeks. The guilt… It never left the husband even though he knew enjoying something stopped him from going crazy. He needed it. And probably was as insatiable than Gluskin.

If the thrusts were rough at least the look in Eddie’s eyes carried softness. Waylon would often come underneath them.

The groom could last long, enough for Waylon to come two or three times, and he’d keep hitting his bride’s favorite spot, turning the poor Waylon into a mess. Keeping the dress down to hide his vulgarities being a challenge as he lost the control of his body under Eddie’s own, spreading his legs and letting the pleasure enfold him. How could that be so good?

By the end, when he knew himself unable to do anything else but taking, he’d often make little noises to drive Eddie crazy. Whimpers, moans, and begs had more effects on him than any words.

Eddie always came inside him. He desperately tried to get the family he dreamed of while Waylon only hoped for the semi-illusion to not broke too soon. Though after a night of sex, he wasn’t in the condition to worry anymore! A fight to keep his eyes open ensued.

“You can close your eyes, I’m here to protect you.” Eddie assured.

This time he didn’t simply fell asleep with his cock inside Waylon while his body pinned him on the mattress, no, the groom watched him and kissed his lips. The large hands rubbed Waylon’s face as if they discovered him for the first time and to his biggest disappointment, Waylon loved every second of it.

What he liked less being the meaning of it all: The terrible man downstairs was healing. At a certain point of his recovery, he’d be able to see with who he passed his nights, and the person he’d discover looked far from the image in his head.

Waylon abandoned the fight for that night and closed his eyes, all of that were problems for another day.

The mornings there were calm. No birds sang to the rising sun, the smell of fresh sheet didn’t fill his nose, and the pain coming from his ankle reminded him of the terrible condition they lived in, but there were no screams. Even the Variants needed a break! And in the morning, the bride he was simply enjoyed watching the beast sleep. As if he’d watched over him all night, Eddie was fast asleep every time Waylon woke up. Except for this morning… His place was empty and almost cold.

Before succumbing to the panic, worse than the groom would be to live there alone, Waylon noticed the bottle of water and painkillers left for him on Eddie’s pillow; the perfect breakfast when living in that asylum.

Reassured, Eddie probably heard someone walking near their little nest, Waylon decided to take advantage of being alone in their block.

He quickly got off the bed and rushed to the bathroom to shave his face. If he could do his legs in front of Eddie, sometimes even with his help which resulted in more time in bed, he wouldn’t risk shaving his growing beard when in the same room.

“Fu…” ck. He choked on his word. The sight of Eddie standing in front of their mirror scared him, funny how no matter the time they spent together, he still could get frightened by his view.

Eddie smirked. The asshole liked it and it infuriated Waylon, though as only sign of protestation he could only pout.

“Wait, you’re bleeding again? I told you to stop scratching your face, even if it itches!” Waylon scolded him when his eyes land on Eddie’s face. He pushed him aside and searched into their cabinet to find the disinfectant and their last band aids. “At the rate you hurt yourself, we’ll need more of those soon! And, hm, i-if you can find another book that’d be great.”

Waylon paused. A hand on the disinfectant, the extension of his gesture froze him into place. Touching Eddie could be compared to touch a burning fire, one consuming everything in its flames, physically possible but things would get messy! It took a whole month before he finally kissed him first.

Scared to move, Waylon breathed heavily while excepting to get impaled by a knife.

Two hands grabbed his shoulders and forced him to turn around, changing him into a target to the cold blue eyes.

“I got carried away sorry. It won’t…”

Eddie shushed him with a soft kiss. His lips were warm and made Waylon’s heart bounce in his chest. A scary monster that could kiss…

When they parted, Eddie looked at him proudly and pet his hair. The last part bothered Waylon, he wasn’t a dog, but impossible to feel angry under those eyes.

“Never apologize for taking care of your husband, I like to see you doing that. You’re a good wife.”

Waylon blushed. Wrong, stupid, but it wouldn’t be the first time his body betrayed him.

Eddie sat on a chair and invited his bride to continue. Now pressured by the whole situation, Waylon became clumsy and found it hard to apply the disinfectant on the bleeding wounds.

“W-What if I hurt you?” His hands were shaking. The rage, he saw it, endured it, and was far from ready to face it again.

“You won’t darling.” The large hands pulled him closer, caressing his waist.

Stupidly red, Waylon cleaned the blood and then dabbed the wounds softly, all while the eyes watched him with something different hidden in them. Had something happened? Not to his knowledge. The only explanation being that Eddie slowly slipped back into his old self, the one before the engine, a serial killer Waylon wouldn’t meet as, again, he’d be dead when Gluskin would see the real him.

“My love is talented, and you want me to stop making myself bleed?” Devotion had never been so palpable. When in this state, Eddie would die and kill for him. The day they’d ran out of food, and that day was coming, a danger awaited every idiot crossing their road.

“It isn’t funny Eddie!” Scolded Waylon. “If you so want me to take care of you, we might start with shaving, or doing your hair…”

Why did he say that? And why did he want to do that?

Of course, Eddie drank each of his words, pressing half of his face on Waylon’s belly. Maybe he tried to hear something, a sound announcing their family growing, or he simply enjoyed Waylon’s company.

He didn’t keep his hands on Waylon’s waist though. As the asshole he were, he moved to pinch his ass and smirked every time the smaller man would jump.

“All done.” Finishing had been easy as he dangerously got more comfortable with Eddie. And having his hands there wasn’t unusual, he often had to cook like that.

The hands spanked his butt softly before the tall man rose to his feet and rewarded him with a gentle kiss.

“A book then! Anything else for my love?”

“What? You go already? I thought we could stay in a bed a little longer…” Cold. Because of the cold. Nothing to do with the way they were close, or how his cock twitched into his panties.

“Minx.” Eddie’s laugh was just like his screams, impossible for Waylon to not react. He sounded good, full of happiness and love, fake or not Waylon enjoyed the song. Holding Waylon tightly against him, Eddie whispered: “I’ll rip your dress off and take you on the floor when I come back.”

If he wanted to help, it did the opposite! Waylon almost begged for him to stay when he passed the door and left their block. Being alone, a worst faith than Eddie’s fuck toy. Fuck toy… Waylon returned to the bed with the word stuck in his head, that shit shouldn’t turn him on.

The time being that nonsensical concept at Mount Massive didn’t prevent Waylon from panicking when Eddie took too much of that time for returning. Impossible to not see the sun abandoning him into a devouring night, the first alone since he met the groom, and if the first weeks he dreamed of it, now it felt like being burned from the inside. A part of him was missing, one he never thought could be absent, but there he was, without hearing the same song hummed by his groom. Had he abandoned him? No, not Eddie. After all that time together, Waylon knew Eddie would never leave or accept his partner to leave him. He’d kill well before even considering it. Strangely, it reassured Way.

Maybe he lost himself, or had to hide from another monster, one stronger and scarier than him. Did it exist? And if something bad had happened? Hard to believe but Eddie was just a man.

The terrible image of the groom’s body lying in a pond of his own blood made its way into Waylon’s mind. He didn’t have the right to die!

Furious, scared, but mainly determined, Waylon Park took the knife hidden under their bed and made his way outside of what he considered to be his safe place. With a white dress and growing blond hair, he was such a sight! The bride ready to kill in hope of saving his monstruous groom. No variant would fear him, but he didn’t care. Eddie would do the same for him.

He entered the courtyard and called after the groom. The mist enveloped every shadow of the night. Impossible to distinguish anything, just like the very night everything fell down.  

Waylon held the knife as if it were Eddie’s hand. It gave him a false sense of security; he was alone there and believing otherwise could be dangerous.

He traversed the courtyard holding the dress with his free hand and quickly entered the first block in front of him. Eddie always took that path when he needed to reach the infirmaries or kitchens.

The ambiance there… When the door closed, it closed to trap him in a dark scenery. Blood and other fluids painted the walls and floor, destroyed furniture blocked some doors while others looked like whales stranded on beaches, a living wave of rage swept everything in its way. And that wave still roamed around the corners, starving for more destruction. Too bad there was only one last beautiful thing to destroy.

“Fuck…” Waylon mumbled when he caught the glimpse of a dead doctor. Time had made its work and he preferred not to think at the smell or the horrible vision in front of him, he passed the corpse and didn’t glance once to satisfy his morbid curiosity; it didn’t matter if he knew them before. Now he knew none in the world, just Eddie. The others… He couldn’t keep anyone alive in his tortured mind.

For what seemed like hours Waylon walked hazardously in the corridors, sometimes whispering Eddie’s name, until he reached another block. All of that while the pain coming from his ankle grew.

The place was a maze, had always been, but now he feared to be lost more than before. What if Eddie had come back home will he was away? He didn’t except it to take so much time! Part of him had wished for the groom to be right behind the first door he opened.

In front of that block, Waylon almost turned back and walked home, but that’s when he noticed a sign indicating a place Eddie could be: Library. Maybe he couldn’t decide which book to pick up?

Waylon approached the door cautiously with a pain in his stomach. What if Eddie died there because of a stupid book he asked for? They might never be home together again and that thought made him sick.

Why do you care so much? He wondered to himself. Yes, he’d be alone, yes it was worse than with the groom, yet it didn’t explain why it hurt so much to think about Gluskin’s death. He was abusive, dangerous, a time bomb!

Waylon should know, at some point of their twisted love story, one of them would die. Better be the serial killer than him.

“Eddie?” He asked with hope when he pushed the door open. Impossible to believe in his own reasoning when his voice sounded so different as he called out that name. Eddie was an addiction, one that consumed Waylon, sometimes making him feel like a god, other time taking his breath away to let him suffocate.

Shutting his thoughts off, they would lead him nowhere, he stepped inside the library. His eyes had adjusted to the environment long ago, even in their block, he didn’t dare to light up the place when he was alone.

The library had been turned into a mess of burned books, broken shelves, and floating pages savagely stolen from their stories. No wonder why Eddie lost so much time there, finding a book readable looked impossible! But the groom hadn’t abandoned yet, too eager to please his darling. Because Eddie was there.

“One who love nobody else but you.”

Their song.

“Eddie, love? It’s me, I was getting worried…” Waylon stood in the middle of the library, facing the shadow he knew too well. The man felt like home. Cliché, stupid and pathetic, but Waylon couldn’t suppress the feeling. The only reason he didn’t run toward him, like a bride rushing to her groom for their first dance, was because he couldn’t see well and feared to trip over some ‘books’. Clumsy as he was, he’d kill himself with the knife he held!

“The book can wait Eddie, we need to go back to our block, it’s not safe here.” He pleaded. As if to confirm his sayings, a scream coming from another room troubled the strange silence around them, the Variants never were too far.

In front of Eddie’s absence of response, Waylon continued: “I-I know. A woman should always be at home. I’m sorry to have disobeyed. BUT I was too worried. You can punish me for it later.”

“Whore.” The word felt like a slap. The slurs had died on Eddie’s lips two months ago, after a talk, a dance, and a long night of sex where Waylon played the perfect bride. “Stupid bitch!”  

The rage… Like a ghost hazarding in some Victorian hallway, the groom haunted the asylum again. Not his groom, but the bad, very bad man downstairs.  

“What? Eddie!” Waylon walked backward, unable to turn on his heel and run like a normal person would. This couldn’t be happening! He hadn’t dreamed the past months. They were a couple, or a ridiculous attempt at it, but they were something and such a thing couldn’t simply disappear.

“Ungrateful slut!” barked Eddie while he walked faster toward him. The most destructive wave Waylon could face had him as a target now.

That old rage, it controlled his gestures, just like before everything, and as soon as he reached Waylon, he punched him in the face.

Too weak, too small, - too anything compared to Eddie - Waylon fell on the dirty floor. The blood stained his fingers, dripping from his mouth, while hot tears blurred his vision.

No doubt, same Eddie as before… That inimitable strength marked Waylon’s face once more but this time, it felt even more painful. How could a simple walk into the maze erase all the progress they’d made together?

A hand came before he could get back on his feet and brutally pressed him against a shelf. Dust and blood filled Waylon’s nose, this place hadn’t been seen often, only one idiot there could want to read in those conditions. The one that’d die in the library.

Eddie had something in his left hand, the younger man grabbed his wrist to keep what he thought to be a knife far from his fragile body.

“Is… Is that a gift for me?” He tried to ask naturally. A book. Not a knife, not anything that could hurt, just a book. Maybe if Waylon kept playing his role, the groom wouldn’t hurt the so adorable bride who had taken care of his wounds the same morning. After all, he still carried the book he promised Waylon. “Come, we’ll talk about it when we’re safe.” We, not just him. All he wanted was for them both to be back in the nest they’d build together, their safe place, one where no variants dared to enter.

A punch in his stomach erased the eventuality of going home soon, and when the book fell with him, it broke his hopes of Eddie remembering what he was doing before falling back into this ugly character. Desperate, suicidal would say some, Waylon took it and tried to talk but was thrown in the room like a rag doll. His back hurt one of the last shelves standing and he was once again in a bad position. He lost his knife there. Didn’t change much since he couldn’t bring himself to use it.

Pain. The physical one he understood, but for the rest… It felt like when he closed his eyes on his family, the one only coming back in form of flashes when his brain tortured him during the night, he was losing someone again. But he didn’t love Eddie. Not at all. And he wouldn’t miss his voice, the way he laughed, or his attempts at making jokes. The groom didn’t matter. For none. Never.

“Filthy slut!”

The voice so close made him roll on himself to avoid being kicked. Eddie’s feet had left too many bruises on him already! Once on the floor, he started to put distance between them even before being fully on his feet.

Like earlier, the beautiful bride lost itself in the maze. Everything looked the same, corpses, blood, words on the walls… The horrors repeated themselves at every corner, doctors, guards, all being killed by what they’d viciously created. Being a shadow or a person made of flesh. And Waylon, he’d been a part of it. Wouldn’t it be fair to die like the others?

Gluskin should be the one ending him, if it were a good story, the patient he watched being thrown in the machine after he begged for help should kill him.

Holding the book, he persuaded himself to keep running as fast as he could. Eddie liked what they had. Fake or not, it helped him, gave his illusion a bit of realness, and it’d be a shame to not fight for it. Plus, even in this hell, Waylon didn’t want to die.

After some long minutes, maybe hours, he finally entered a room he knew: The gymnasium. It meant their home was closer than he expected and with that, the hope of Eddie remembering everything. But in the main time, an old ghost needed to be defeated.

How many nightmares he had about this place? It’d changed. The corpses removed because of the smell poisoning their block, parts of the blood cleaned, and the ropes transformed the floor into a snake pit instead of holding bodies in the air, one of which was almost Waylon. He moved carefully into the room, holding back his painful screams as his ankle had already produced too much effort in one night.

Eddie entered after him, the groom could walk perfectly and seemed to move faster than before, Waylon’s last hope was to enter a vent he remembered to have been into so much time ago. There he could be safe, at least for the rest of the night. After… He’d find a way, for them.

No time to relax once at the bottom of the vent’s entry, every second mattered.

He threw the book in it and attempted to haul himself up but was violently caught by the ankle. His scream resonated in the whole gymnasium, no part of his body, no matter the torture he endured in Eddie’s hands, was as painful as it. It didn’t heal well within those conditions, leaving him with a weak point. Though, the groom didn’t take advantage of it any longer, like if the scream scared him off, he let go of Waylon’s leg which let enough time for the younger man to disappear into the vent. A safe place he already hated. Too small, smelling like the corpses who hung in the gymnasium, and having for a role to keep him safe from Eddie.

In a fetal position, Waylon cried to his heart’s content. The poor leg moved by itself, it felt like having thousands of needles forced in it, a pain his poor skill at sewing made him discover.

He fought to catch his breath. His arms wrapped around the new book like a kid holding his teddy bear during a storm. Things hadn’t been so bad in weeks! How to fix it? He didn’t know but decided he wouldn’t die by the same hands that made him feel alive when he was trapped in hell.

Someone easy to replace… Was it true? A tiny, naïve, part of him had hoped he was wrong about that.

“Come back here slut.” Eddie yelled.

Waylon risked one glance into the gymnasium and saw Eddie right where he stood a couple of seconds ago, and this time, what he held was indubitably a knife. Rare were the times he’d walk around the asylum unarmed, even at their home he hid many of those to protect his bride. Here the knife would be used in a opposite way.

“Stupid bitch, come here or I’ll make you regret.”

“Shut up Eddie…” Waylon whispered to himself. If the groom had a rage living inside him, so he did! It made his body shake with more force than the fear. He wanted to yell, throw the book and risk a fight. And would’ve done just that if he weren’t sure to die without even hitting the taller man once.

Eddie kept screaming at him, the obscenities flooding out of his mouth as if they’d been drowning him all this time.

“Fuck you, Eddie!” He yelled so loudly it left him shacking.

Yeah, fuck him, he thought. Fuck that man and everything he represents.

In rage, he took the book and started reading out loud. He raised his voice, covering Eddie’s own and ‘faced’ the monster the only he could without dying. He stuttered, his voice cracking at some words due to the fear and the sadness, but he kept doing it. It didn’t help that the book was about a Victorian romance.

“Darling, I’m sorry, please come back to me.” He heard Eddie saying in his most gentleman voice.

But he kept reading. That way he escaped Eddie’s poisoned lies.

The night moved around them, and the day came, as if the earth was still the same than yesterday.

Waylon stopped to read when the pain became too much, his throat burnt. They didn’t talk much together. The little exercise challenged his vocal cords, though drinking would wait… He moved his head and saw Eddie sitting at the bottom of the vent’s entry, visibly sleeping.

Could he join him? The idea of his head pressed against the broad torse, hearing Eddie’s heart beating, made him want to take the risk but common sense stopped him. Could be a trap. Or, when

the beast would wake up, a knife would end his life. Too bad though, because he could’ve really gone for a comfortable nap in those arms.

He’d calmed down a bit. A plan, he needed one, it couldn’t be so hard to win the beast’s heart again. Now more able to think, he decided to stay there for as long as necessary, and that even if running home didn’t sound too stupid. He couldn’t do it anymore.

What wouldn’t he give for some pain killers? Or those pills Eddie administrated him during their first days. They made him feel like a cloud floating in the sky.

He thought about sleeping. But he quit that idea, the pain too present to give him a break.

Shyly, without even thinking, he whispered his groom’s name. “Eddie? Are you asleep?” It looked like but he risked again. “Love? Can you bring me something to drink? I’m too hurt to move.”

He said that sentence before, back when Eddie would oblige, a smile on his face as he knew Waylon wouldn’t escape with his poor leg. “My love, if you’re awake please help me. I need you, I always do, please let’s make this work like we did before…”

Before you tried to kill me for no reason, he whispered to himself. “Ed…”

Waylon’s heart skipped a few beats before he could produce noises again.

“Eddie!” He screamed from the top of his lungs.

Someone had touched him. Five fingers soon joined by five others were on his ankle, firmly holding him. A person, a Variant, whose laugh now filled the vent found him. The last destroyable thing. He didn’t think himself capable of screaming so loudly after such a night.

Tears filled his eyes will he tried to kick the man off him. Of course, it had to happen when he was at his weakest point.

He tried to hit the Variant with the book but abandoned the idea to cling onto the vent’s entry. The Variant wanted to drag him somewhere in the dark. To do things Waylon preferred to not think about. Just like they always are at Mount Massive, that man was way stronger than him and soon, Waylon lost his grasp.

He was pulled just a few inches inside the vent before the impossible happened; a gloved hand grabbed his and pulled him out in one, strong, move. The strength deployed so impressive the Variant came with Waylon. They both fell on the gymnasium hard floor. The tall shadow fell on them, announcer of the end for at least one of them.

Eddie watched them, his eyes colder than ever before while he fulminated. Slurs were spitted while he walked the short distance separating him from Waylon and his assailant. He was just a man made of rage. Stronger and scarier than anything the asylum had ever sheltered.

Before a beg could be formulated, Eddie grabbed the Variant and slashed his throat. After which he plunged the knife an indeterminable number of times into the dead man’s body. Fresh blood colored the floor, turning the asylum into that giant and used sponge who absorbed the red liquid like a thirsty person would drink the water offered to them. Waylon didn’t believe in haunted houses, however, after all the blood, the fear, the sadness and the screams who perturbed the Asylum’s walls and floors, he was ready to believe this place to be haunted. And he would love to be the person burning it all to the ground.

He watched Eddie in terror, unable to speak or move, trapped by the vision of pure violence happening before his eyes. There was the groom, a killing machine who had also sew him the beautiful dress he wore. The man who, at any moment, could’ve taken him out of the air vent to kill him. Waylon had never been in security. No matter how he believed himself to be, Eddie chose to not grab him.

Why?

The question was asked out loud. His voice almost unrecognizable due to the sob he was holding.  

“Why haven’t you… I-I mean…” He stood on his feet after having been hidden in the gymnasium’s corner with his arms wrapped around his legs. “You could reach me all this time?”

Eddie breathed loudly. The knife still in his head he looked ready to kill again. But would he? Waylon hoped to not be wrong, he even pried for it when the groom took a step in his direction. The blood ruined his clothes, the thick hands were colored with the same red.  

“Waylon?” The voice felt like a melody. God his name sounded so good in Eddie’s mouth. Just for that he wanted to jump into his arms. Too soon. Too risky, too everything as it was Eddie.

“Y-Yes, love?” Waylon took a step too. His hands pressed against his chest, he tried to find that human light he would see in the blue eyes when Eddie watched him while they fucked. Made love? Nope. Not really, fucked worked better for them. At least for now.

Like a desperate bride wanting to be hugged by the groom, he made another step. The tears in his eyes troubled his vision. Never before he imagined actually walking the distance making them husbands until now.

Eddie looked at him as if it were the first time he actually saw him. Maybe not a good thing…

“Darling, are you hurt?” He finally said which relieved Waylon.

The concerned look now on Eddie’s face made him move faster. But to his own surprise, it wasn’t to jump into the monster’s arms.

“The heck is wrong with you?! You punched me, chased me, tried to kill me and now you’re worried?! Did you fucking know how scared I was?”

Eddie opened his mouth to say something but closed it when Waylon yelled at him again. Both wore expressions they hadn’t seen on each other face. To Waylon’s disappointment, Eddie looked incredibly handsome when surprised. It destabilized him. “Is t-that a game for you? You think it’s okay to play with my life? Eddie!”

“Oh. Did I hurt you?” The knife fell while the question was formulated which made Waylon take a step back.

“W-What? No. Just a bit, but that’s not the point. You did try to kill me.”

Eddie tilted his head. He stared at the vent before placing his eyes on Waylon again. “Are you sure darling?”

Now he wanted to punch him. Not that it’d hurt Eddie, but he’d give a lot to try it!

They were closer and closer from each other, so dangerously close. But Waylon kept standing for himself. “You were furious, you ran after me with a knife… You…” You didn’t take me off the vent, thought Waylon.

“Come here darling.”

Waylon obeyed. He wasn’t afraid, not anymore. He moved so fast; Eddie ended up being the one taking a step back.

“Yes?” Waylon’s voice wasn’t charged with so much hate. Those eyes, that look, the whole attitude, it killed his will to fight. “What do we do now?”

Eddie smiled. A confident smile imbued with love. He took Waylon’s hand, aware of the pain he caused when he took the bride off the vent, and pressed a kiss before holding it with both of his.

“I’m sorry darling. It won’t happen again. The last thing I want is for you to fear me, and I’ll work on erasing that little thing in your eyes who’s still doubting me. I love you, Waylon.”

To that he pressed their lips together in the most tender embrace they ever had. Waylon moaned. Part of him couldn’t believe how easily Eddie’s bullshit worked.

“Ok for this time.” Capitulated Way.

“You’ll forgive me for the next ones.” Suddenly assured Eddie. But before Waylon could scream his disapproval, he added: “That’s what you do darling. Since the very beginning. You talk, too much sometimes, you negotiate, help me understand how I should act, and, in the end, you brought me back on the right track. That’s the reason it can only be you.”

Waylon starred into his eyes. Hypnotic.

“Fuck me.” He commanded. Eddie’s cheeks became red like sherries and he’d to look somewhere else to keep his cool. Rage? Shyness? Waylon didn’t care. “What? Don’t want to take your wife.”

“You’re vulgar my love.”

“And I’m starting to believe you like that.”  

Eddie watched him as if a challenge had been offered to him and, in one gesture, pinned Waylon against the wall.

He nibbed his way to Waylon’s mouth, kissing him until none could breathe. There was no better way to drown.

The thick hands moved under the white dress, fingers under the panties’ waistband, Waylon soon saw the little piece of fabric being thrown in the gymnasium. He tried to turn but Eddie’s grip on his legs forced him to stay still.

“Edd…”

“Lift your dress.”

“It’s not a good idea.”

“Fine. I’ll do as I wish then.” The hands moved rapidly, and less time than Waylon imagined, his dress was torn away by Eddie’s monstruous strength.

Exposed, he again tried to turn just to be held again.

“So shy.” Hummed Eddie in his ear. “You weren’t so much last night while calling my name.”

Eddie placed his hand on him. On that place he never imagined those fingers to be. Together they moved from a dangerous situation to another, all the time, and that since the beginning. One little fit of anger and… Waylon swallowed loudly when the fingers moved.

He’d never done that. Fucking someone for hours? Yes. But Eddie never actually tried to please anyone except himself. Waylon whimpered. The technic didn’t matter as long as it was happening with that man.

“You’re so small my darling.” He commented while rubbing himself against Waylon to prove his point. “Maybe you could start preparing yourself, I’m not going to be gentle with you. Not when you look like that.”

Disheveled, tears in his eyes, mouth open to breath easier and the whimpers coming off his mouth, Waylon must’ve looked like the ultimate tentation to Eddie.

He was fast to act. After sucking his fingers, which earned him kisses, he prepared himself eagerly. He grimaced at first. He went too fast and almost hurt himself. Hard to be soft when Eddie touched him with such a look of desire.

Crazy how easy it was to forget everything else, even the blood and the fucking body near them. Or the pain coming in wave from his ankle. Violence, horror, both were too used to it. And those little moments of contact with each other were too precious to be broken by anything. Waylon knew that now.

When the fingers rubbed his balls, he made a little noise and came.

“F… Sorry. I’m… It’s been time I wanted that and…” Eddie watched his hand. Too new, too much… Waylon didn’t know if disappearing, crying, or excusing himself would be the best approach. But the smile calmed him down before he could panic.

The hand joined the one he used to prepare himself, and softly, he felt his own come wetting his hole. Even if he promised to be rough, Eddie went gently, leaving Waylon enough time to feel ready before adding another finger.

It bothered him how softer it was than when he did that himself. Annoying groom…

“Hm yes that spot…” Waylon moaned. He kissed Eddie like he never did before, moving from his mouth to his neck while unbuttoning his shirt.

Eddie had a beautiful body, that he admitted long ago, but he never noticed how much the scars bothered him. Hard to believe something could pierce such a tough skin. But many things did, which is why he was there. In this asylum.

Just a man. Strong, dangerous one, but still… To that thought he kissed Eddie harder.

“Ready darling? Then wrap your arms around my neck.”

“Wait. You don’t want me to go down?”

Eddie smiled with that angel smile. “No. I don’t want to see you on your knees today.”

Waylon nodded almost innocently. He was completely under the new charm rising from his partner’s face. How much time would it last, was it going to be worst after, or was this man the closer thing to what he should’ve been if he had a better life? Those thoughts would’ve to wait. They weren’t important anyway.

Eddie lifted him of the floor. His legs spread, back against the wall, and arms wrapped around Eddie’s neck, Waylon held his breath while Eddie softly entered him.

He was well prepared and didn’t feel any discomfort for once. Heck it was even great! Eddie gave him some time to adapt to the penetration. His kisses were passionate, like if he wanted to feel all of Waylon’s emotion throughout his lips.

His hands used to force Waylon back to the reality, a place full of hesitancy and guilt, but this time, Waylon was transported into something better. A place where they had no scars and nothing but a beautiful life ahead of them.

Their body moved together while they made the naughtiest noises. They didn’t speak much. Would’ve been unnecessary as they finally were in perfect communication together.

Waylon came again. The vision of his cum on Eddie’s clothes made each thrusts better. The cock entered sometimes softly but when he moaned loudly, Eddie would thrust harder, making Waylon’s body hurt the wall.

He secretly hoped for them to do that again and doing it often. It turned him on to see how easily Eddie manhandled him. His strength, when used to please him, was welcome.

He kissed Eddie, took the control of the rhythm with which their tongues would meet. Passing his hand on Eddie’s hair made him realise that he liked it too. It felt nice being able to take decisions for them both while they fucked.

What felt the greatest, without a doubt, was to finally have Eddie see him and not acting like he too often used to. The desire, that passion, the obsession, lived during the whole time they were one. They discovered each other body, their hands moved more than usually, meeting the flaws that were their scars, passing on the reality, and showing a love that words couldn’t formulate. An impossible one. And yet…

Eddie held him hard when he came. A bite marked his skin like a ring would on his finger. He screamed his partner’s name when he pulled out, now being sure Eddie loved it. Cum dripped from his hole, a feel that once he hated but now loved.

They smiled at each other, both out of breath but eyes still full of desire.

“Liked it?”

Waylon nodded. Since when did Eddie ask?

“I don’t like to see you naked here.” Eddie stated with a frown before taking his shirt completely off and passing it on Waylon’s shoulder. He felt so small in those clothes.

“Forget about your panties.” He commanded when Waylon moved toward it. “I want you again. But at home.” He pronounced the last word with something different in his voice. They had been far from their safe place for too long and the groom had started to feel uncomfortable.

“Then what about taking your wife home, Eddie.”

His eyes shone at those words. He pressed their lips together before carrying his beautiful darling at a place they called home. For now. But soon, Waylon decided, they’d have a different one, a beautiful one, somewhere they’d be free.