Work Text:
Cody took deep, measured breaths, but they didn’t slow his racing pulse one bit.
The shining metal of the knife at his chest was still, the edge resting just bellow his collar but not pressing, and he worried with each intake of air that it would slip across his skin, but that was stupid, that was the point. And he almost wished that Ivan would just… would just get to it, but no, he was in ‘sit and stare like a fucking creep’ mode.
(That wasn’t fair. Cody knew that Ivan liked to watch, and that he was checking to make sure that he was really okay with this, but there was a fucking huge knife pointed at him and he was a little tense, so excuse him for being a bit snippy.)
A quick movement and Cody gasped, to hell with keeping his breathing in check, and his hands surged up to curl around Ivan’s arms on instinct. That didn’t mean stop, though, they both knew that only the safe word meant stop, and besides, the Aussie didn’t try pushing those hands away. He just needed to hold onto something. A glance down showed that the knife had barely slid an inch down, straight down his sternum, but shit did that hurt. Shallow wounds always hurt the most, right? And so close to the bone they bled a lot, too, but again, that was the
point
.
Ivan smiled (well, he was always smiling, but it quirked up a bit at the edges and lit up his eyes), brushing his fingers through the blood that welled up from the scratch. Cody winced and thought about calling the Russian a bastard or a cunt or something but then the knife was sliding down again and he couldn’t think straight.
It didn’t stop this time, cutting right down his chest and stomach and Cody let out a dry sob. Digging his nails into Ivan’s arms helped a little bit. Ivan bent down and licked right up the wound and fuck that burned, but it was only a minor inconvenience compared to the blade at his ribs, shit, when had it gone there? Cody actually arched up that time, not to press against the other’s mouth but out of pain and he could feel it as Ivan cut and bumped over each rib.
His sobs weren’t so dry this time, and Ivan’s breath was hot and irregular against his chest, and if he hadn’t slammed his eyes shut some time ago he was sure he would see that fucker staring at him again. The blade knicked his trousers as it curved inwards over his hip, and that coupled with the feel of a large palm laid over his chest, pressing down and smearing haphazardly was enough to cause Cody to choke out, “N-New Zealand, fucking New Zealand, st-stop.”
The knife was set aside immediately, with care, but still his skin burned and he shuddered. But Cody surged up when Ivan’s mouth met his, sloppy and needy, and allowed hands wet with his own blood to distract him from his pain.