The Spider's Parlor
an excerpt

Beck moves against him, and he tries not to moan. The other’s lips trail down to his throat, biting and licking and nipping at the tender skin. The scalpel continues to saw through his hair, and Shaun carefully lifts his sore arms to circle the man’s neck and pull him closer. The material of his sweatpants is thin enough that the friction of Beck rubbing against him is driving him crazy crazy crazy. He arcs up into the other, pressing flush with him, and it’s only when Beck returns to kissing him that the tears begin to escape his closed eyes.

Beck pulls away from his lips again, and Shaun takes the opportunity to murmur, “Why? Why do you have to do this?” He’s not sure what he’s asking, but it could be a plethora of things. Why the torture, why the love, why did he have to go and sacrifice himself instead of just letting Shaun die?

Beck smiles at him, and his large hand skims down to rest over the gruesome bitemark on Shaun’s hip. “Because I marked you, Shauny,” he whispers, “Because you poisoned me.”

And then Shaun is being bent back over the countertop, and Beck’s affectionate smile becomes maniacal again. The cold blade of the scalpel touches the center of his chest, and he tenses just as it starts to slice through his skin. He makes a choking noise as Beck drags it from his sternum down to his navel, cutting a straight line that soon fills with blood. The blade then lifts up and cuts a horizontal line along his waist. His fingers tighten their grip on Beck’s shoulders, teeth digging into his lower lip to prevent him from making a sound other than the pitiful little whimpers that escape.

“Gonna’ make you beautiful, Shauny,” Beck mutters in that crazed voice of his.