The Fabulous Granz Hair
the-lewdest-concubine:
“You flatter me,” purred Szayel as he stepped even closer to his brother on the table.
Yylfordt didn’t have too many scars, but the largest one looked to be the merger of a slice and a stab wound, likely through his jacket so bits of fabric had gotten into the wound and it hadn’t been properly cleaned, so it had healed even more uglily than it would have if sterile.
Szayel traced a finger over it, where it cut into the hollow below his ribcage. The scar tissue was thick and he pinched it with his fingers to examine just how deep it went, to see how much he’d have to cut out of the fair fine skin. The tissue at the surface was hard and rubbery, and the hardness extended into his abdomen.
“Hmmm, this one goes deep. I’m surprised you survived getting this one on your own…at least I don’t remember you coming to me for this one. What was it? A sword? The puncture of some lesser hollow’s horn?“
Gently he bent down and laid a gentle kiss upon the scar.
“I’ll make it better,” he said, lips still just a hairsbreadth from his skin.
Reaching for a scalpel, he placed it on the small surgical table near him. In the meantime, he disinfected the skin all around where he meant to make the incision, dabbing gently, with what he imagined to be a mother’s patience.
The skin was prepped and ready. Taking the scalpel in his left hand, he punctured the skin with the tip slowly, feeling the resistance of the flesh on the blade. Blood seeped up, rich and red, and Szayel cocked his head as he admired its beauty, beading on either side of the blade. Then he cut, the skin tearing like fine tissue paper in the wake of the fine edge.
Szayel’s eyes went half lidded as he savored the sound of the cut flesh, layers of skin splitting with a hint of wetness. His blood pressure dropped; he was exceedingly calm. Soon he had outlined one edge of the scar, and the skin yawned open, deep dark red, cut along the Langer’s lines below the surface.
“There is a start,” he said.
He reached one hand forward to cup Yylfordt’s cheek, stroking it with his thumb.
“Now how does it feel? Hmmm?”
For once Yylfordt was silent, watching how Szayels perfect form moved as he walked. A part of the blond was jealous, extremely so in fact. His brother could only find this perfection without him.....without the one piece of him that longed to return home....and just for the briefest of moments Yylfordt felt that abandonment all over again but he quickly shook it off when he felt those slender fingers begin to trace his hideous scar.
Then those sweet lips followed and he found his breath was stolen from him as crimson hues watched with an intensity that the sun would be jealous of.
“A sword.....it was a damned sword. Do you really believe I would let some lesser beast mar my beautiful skin? No, a fight of mine didn’t go as.....well as I had planned and I fell in battle...enough about that however....hmmm...lets....lets just enjoy this moment shall...shall we?”
Ha bit into his lip, his back arching slightly as Szayels blade cut through his skin. The only thing that could describe this intense feeling was pure ecstasy. He had only dreamed of being beneath Szayels thumb before. Had only coveted to be looked upon by those beautiful golden hues and now...now was his time to shine as a small moan pushed passed his lips despite how hard he tried to hold back.
As blood dripped from the wound and slowly trickled down his body, Yylfordts pupils dialated and those blood red eyes peered up as Szayel spoke once more.
“Words cant describe....Brother~”
A shaky breath would be taken before nuzzling into that steady hand, eyes never leaving Szayels as he showed this bit of affection.
“Dont stop....Make.....make me beautiful once more. I’ve longed for this for far too long for it to end so quickly~”











