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Fic: In the Detail (LoM. See warning before reading)

Posted on 2007.10.16 at 08:51
Current Mood: embarrassedembarrassed
Tags: , , , ,
Right, first things first.

WARNING. This is Not Nice. At all. Do not read if you like nice things.

To explain. I've been toying with the whole Sam/Oswald pairing for a while, and since October is Porn Month in LoM, now seemed the ideal time. This, however, is not PWP in the conventionally accepted, fluffy 'mmm that's hot' sense. It's squicky crack, in all honesty.

Words: 1039
Pairing: Sam/Oswald - with a bonus squick if you're paying attention!
Set: During ep 5 of Season 2. You know when all the lights go off and Sam blacks out? Just after that. It's all a dream, thankfully.

OK, deep breath...

“No, no, no, no, NO!!”

And one by one, the lights went off, and the blackness descended. And out of the dark, shadows swirled, snatches of sentences, disjointed words. The facts of the case, swirling through and around his brain. What had he missed?

So many contradictions, it was dizzying. Or maybe that was just the drugs. He needed to find some order, make some sense of the overload of information. Go back to the start.

The morgue. There should be records of the autopsy report. Maybe there’d be a detail, some snippet of information that had been overlooked. God, after all, being in the detail.

He saw himself entering the mortuary building. Knew he was dreaming, went with it anyway. Allowed his brain to work through all the clues in its own way. He could still feel the effects of the stimulants zinging through his nervous system, coupled now with a strange kind of numbness, the opposing symptoms leaving him giddy and ready for anything.

Sam pushed open the swinging doors, vaguely relieved that his mind hadn’t decided to confront him with anything gruesome. The metal table dominated the room, stark, spotless. With a sudden flash of insight, Sam realised that this was a metaphor, his subconscious stripping away the extraneous details, laying bare the facts. Suddenly, he was less keen to find the pathologist, the object of his visit here.

And, as is so often the way with dreams, the thought provoked the image. Sam turned, stomach plunging with a sick sense of inevitability. Behind him, where a moment ago there had been nobody, stood Oswald. White coat, symbol of his status, unbuttoned to reveal the full inflated glory of the man beneath. Pendulous chest parted by a precise dark line of wiry hair, vast sagging belly giving him the appearance of a great white Buddha. Erect penis, pressed down by the mound of flesh above, pointing out horizontally, straight towards Sam. Arms spread wide in a gesture of welcome, expression utterly blank. Words floated out across the room, though Sam, watching closely, saw that Oswald’s mouth remained closed. The voice was ill-fitting – light, girlish, a voice that Sam recognised immediately.

“You want the truth, Sam? I am the truth. Embrace me.”

Even as his mind recoiled from the image confronting him, he felt, with detached horror, his body responding, the revulsion fuelling the arousal. Closed the gap between them, each step clattering on the stone floor. Paused, tension hanging in the air between them like a cloud, his own erection straining against his jeans.

“You know what to do.”

Again the disembodied voice, against which Sam seemed to have no defence. He knelt, reaching out to grasp handfuls of flaccid flesh, lifting it upwards, his mouth closing around the surprisingly thick shaft. A low rattling groan, long and sustained, escaped Oswald, and without warning iron-strong hands closed around the back of Sam’s head, forcing him forwards until his head swam and he was in danger of choking.

His tongue swirled, tentatively at first and then more daringly, around the head, the bitter salty tang inflaming him still further. He yearned to bring his hands down, to relieve the pulsing ache of his own desperate arousal. His fingers dug in deeper, burying themselves in the softness of Oswald’s hips, as he suckled with an urgency that overpowered him, his mouth clinging to the increasing hardness swelling to fill him. The skin under his hands rippled and quivered as the pathologist, with moans and harsh grunts, bucked faster and faster into Sam’s responsive face, and suddenly his mouth was filled with gluey warmth as Oswald came deep into his throat, Sam swallowing reflexively over and over again to accommodate his climax.

Oswald backed off, and Sam collapsed, desperate hands scrabbling at his engorged groin. Every inch of his skin was on fire, white-hot needles of pure aching lust tearing at his nerves. He could feel a scream building within him, heard himself sobbing, inarticulately garbled pleas and raw obscenities tumbling unbidden from his scrambled brain. From somewhere above, impossibly high, Oswald gazed down, impassively sympathetic.

“Poor Sam. Tell me what you need.”

“What I – I need – Oh God, help me. Please – help me.”

“Don’t be sad, Sam. I can make it all better.”

Oswald turned away, shrugging off the sterile white coat. Ambled without haste to the centre of the room, planting both hands firmly on the operating table. Some small voice buried deep within Sam was screaming at him in utter horror, but the urgency was too great, the arousal too overwhelming to be stopped. Scrambling to his feet, he practically ran across to where the pathologist stood braced and ready. Fumbling fingers frantically sought to free himself from the too-tight constraint of trousers and underwear, so that within seconds his erection, the swollen head already leaking and glistening, bobbed and strained in the cool air.

The usually placid pathologist’s jowls wobbled with anticipation, a trail of saliva dribbling downwards to pool on the pristine metal table, as Sam grasped hold of the capacious sagging buttocks, pulling them wide apart, the slick sheen of oil a give-away sign that, somehow, Oswald was already prepared for this. Which was just as well, as Sam was way past waiting. With a strangled groan, he plunged into the receptive flesh spread out in front of him, thrusting and shoving powerfully and unstoppably inwards. The act was without finesse, primevally carnal, the brutal slaking of an unbearable need. As he slammed into Oswald time and again, the ache within him grew until it transcended life itself, until he knew without question he would die of it.

And finally, legs buckling, pulse pounding a rhythmic drumbeat into his fevered brain, the ache overtook him, and he came, yelling, screams of rage and passion and insanity. Poured out his soul into the softly padded vessel writhing beneath him. Until there was literally nothing left, and oblivion claimed him once again.

As he struggled, sick and disorientated, towards consciousness in the confined familiarity of the locker room, the vestiges of the dream clung to him, and he heard the nightmarish little-girl voice one more time.

“All better now. Sleep well, Sam. I’ll be waiting.”


tatlovestea at 2007-10-16 10:21 (UTC) (Link)
I am really sickened. Those descriptions were hideously nauseating, especially the ones regarding Oswald's repulsive physique.

Yet, I enjoyed reading this. Why? o_0

Your writing is incredible! That's probably why.
I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2007-10-16 10:49 (UTC) (Link)
It comes to something when I'm perfectly prepared to accept 'hideously nauseating' as a compliment!

Yet, I enjoyed reading this. Why? o_0
Cos deep down, you know it makes sense! XD
tatlovestea at 2007-10-16 10:58 (UTC) (Link)
Oh, it was a compliment! XD Though I can't believe I'm complimenting you for making me feel physically sick...

Cos deep down, you know it makes sense!

Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo *smashes head repeatedly against the wall* Leave my brain alone!

I've now read this twice...
m31andy at 2007-10-16 10:24 (UTC) (Link)

I... I... I...

I'll be down the corridor scrubbing at my brain.

I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2007-10-16 10:51 (UTC) (Link)
Yeah cos I know how much trouble you have with the Dark Side! Blimey, if I've got you scrubbing the brain, I really have reached hitherto uncharted levels of squick!
m31andy at 2007-10-16 18:00 (UTC) (Link)
Hmm, is Oswald/Sam inherently more squicky than Sam/Ruth?

I think it's more different flavours of squick, rather than levels. (Sort of liver ice-cream vs. larks vomit...)
I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2007-10-17 10:50 (UTC) (Link)
Mmm. Personal taste, I guess. Six months ago I'd have found both unbearably squicky, now neither bothers me in that way. It's just interesting to play with the concepts and see how far you can take them. And I have to say that the blame lies squarely at the door of you, Fi and Janni! ;)
pet_lunatic at 2007-10-16 10:25 (UTC) (Link)
Woah, that was brain-breaking in a brilliant way. Your graphic descriptions of Oswald, and the nightmare atmosphere, as well as the creepy!sex, put me in mind of Stephen King's style of writing (I mean that as a compliment of course - I know not everybody rates King as a writer, but I think he has a real gift for description).

Great fic. I applaud you both for the writing and for the subject matter - this is something really different, and it works. :D
I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2007-10-17 10:53 (UTC) (Link)
It's a huge honour to be compared to someone of the calibre of Stephen King, on any level. I haven't read much myself, strangely enough I have traditionally found horror as a genre rather difficult to read, but I appear to be evolving so maybe it's time to try again! Thank you. :D
hambelandjemima at 2007-10-16 10:33 (UTC) (Link)
How can you write Sam/Oswald and still keep them in character? You drew me into Sam's dream, and I was a little concerned as to what state Annie would find him in when she went to check on him in the locker room...

Brilliantly executed. Well done. Now more Sam/Gene please *g*
I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2007-10-17 10:57 (UTC) (Link)
Thank you!

How can you write Sam/Oswald and still keep them in character?
That's the fun of it! It did creep me out a little though, especially as I was watching LoM at the time!

a little concerned as to what state Annie would find him in
Bwahahaaaa! That would have been a great direction to take it in!

Now more Sam/Gene please
Yes'm. *doffs cap* I'll see what I can do...
lozenger8 at 2007-10-16 10:51 (UTC) (Link)
This is, without doubt, the most horrific story I have ever read, bar none. I still read it, because you're always made of brilliance.

I love Oswald, but not like that. Please, God, never like that again.
I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2007-10-17 11:06 (UTC) (Link)
Oh don't worry, Sam/Oswald is not a concept I feel the need to explore more than once (although now I come to think of it, I was a bit harsh on Oswald, who seems a decent chap - maybe a bit of fluffy PWP to redress the balance?)

I don't know about the most</i< horrific, though. Lest we forget - Sam and Chris showering naked in the blood of dead children? XD
I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2007-10-17 11:07 (UTC) (Link)
Ugh, I seem to have arrived in italic hell. Sorry about that!
m31andy at 2007-12-15 12:25 (UTC) (Link)
Lest we forget - Sam and Chris showering naked in the blood of dead children? XD

You make it sound so *icky*...

totallywow at 2007-10-16 11:02 (UTC) (Link)
I'd been wondering if you'd do this, due to a few comments in fics etc.. and, wow. You did! Brilliantly written... but... oh my God!!
totallywow at 2007-10-16 14:13 (UTC) (Link)
P.S - forgot to mention, that I was (nicely) surprised to see Sam as the top. Very rare! To be honest I love him being all angsty (terribly slutty) and submissive. But he was, he did follow all of Oswald's orders. ;). Nice balance! Hee. ♥
I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2007-10-17 11:16 (UTC) (Link)
I hadn't even thought of it that way till you said it. I wrote Sam as top! Most unlikely - I'm a submissive!Sam kind of gal by nature too. But you're right, he wasn't being dominant here.
duckyone at 2007-10-16 11:23 (UTC) (Link)
I should have listened to the little voice in my head that said, "Don't Click On That!" but as usual; curiosity got the better of me. Did she really go there? Well, yes she did.

You are a wonderful writer and that was very well written, but I will be over in that corner rocking back and forth and sobbing quietly.
I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2007-10-17 11:18 (UTC) (Link)
I'm just the same - show me a link that says 'Don't go there' and I break all speed records having a look! Sorry I made you cry, though (and maybe just a teeny bit gleeful!)
kirsteena at 2007-10-16 11:28 (UTC) (Link)
Wha... omg, I read it. That has to be the most scary thing I have read for a very long time. Brb, scrubbing brain out.

well written!
I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2007-10-17 11:23 (UTC) (Link)
Hee! I've sullied so many brains! Sorry/thanks. :)
Using words like a trickster
liquorishflame at 2007-10-16 22:11 (UTC) (Link)
This is...this is...
Well. There it is. My eyebrows are so high up my forehead, I doubt you could even see them!
Very interesting fic for porn week :)
I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2007-10-17 11:30 (UTC) (Link)
This is...this is...
...yes? *g* (Actually, maybe not!)

I know, it was meant as a slightly cracky but essentially fluffy PWP for porn week, but the whole concept just got away from me and turned dark as anything. Ah well, I'll just have to try again! (maybe with a different pairing this time?)


Using words like a trickster
liquorishflame at 2007-10-20 00:04 (UTC) (Link)
Hey now, I liked it, no worries there :)
Just, just the strangeness of it all! So crazy! But, well written :)
sytaxia at 2007-10-19 04:06 (UTC) (Link)
I just... Oh... Eeek... *squick*

I think you have broken me. This was suitably creepy, and incredibly well done, considering what it is; I think you've definitely hit the mark that you were going for, although it is a very creepy, bizarre mark...

Wowza... *goes to read fluffy pr0n to recuperate*
I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2007-10-19 09:19 (UTC) (Link)
I know, I know...*shakes head in despair at own warpedness*

I went so far past the mark I was going for that I can't even see it any more! Honestly. When I thought of Sam/Oswald it was meant to be comedy, for chrisssakes!

Enjoy the fluffy pr0n. :)
dorsetgirl at 2007-10-27 23:06 (UTC) (Link)
Jesus, woman, that is AWFUL. Totally horrible.

Well done!
dorsetgirl at 2007-10-31 11:47 (UTC) (Link)
Just re-read this, and it doesn't come over as the huge compliment I intended it to be. Sorry. I thought this was brilliantly done. And horrible. I really enjoyed reading it in a kind of "I don't believe I'm reading this" sort of way. It really is well done; you definitely have the gift.
I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2007-11-01 13:12 (UTC) (Link)
Sorry, I wasn't maintaining a stony silence because of being offended or anything! Was just having one of those periods I like to think of as RL intrusion, but are actually just me not having my arse properly in gear!

I'm very pleased you thought it was good - in fact I'm decidedly chuffed you read it at all. You weren't far from my thoughts when I was writing dire warnings about the squick! So thanks for that. :D
Strike while the irony is hot
draycevixen at 2007-11-24 05:25 (UTC) (Link)

*No officer, the Rec list and I are just good friends*

OMFG! First questions first... Are you, Andy and Janni all drinking from the same punchbowl? It's bad to do drugs *shakes finger*

This is so utterly wrong and yet so utterly fascinating. The descriptive detail...the sentence structure... the language choices, OMFG, the language choices!

>>the ache within him grew until it transcended life itself<< >>Poured out his soul into the softly padded vessel writhing beneath him.<< Fucking Oswald as a "religious" experience?

I usually say "thank you" when I've enjoyed something enough to comment. I'm not sure I can actually thank you for this, but what I can say is that this is absolutely bloody brilliant and that you are made of win for writing it!

I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2007-11-24 10:16 (UTC) (Link)

Re: *No officer, the Rec list and I are just good friends*

It's bad to do drugs *shakes finger*

This is why I don't do them! If my brain is capable of this without help, it's a bit alarming to contemplate what could happen under the influence! As I said in other comments, this truly took on a life of its own, and even squicked me when I was writing it.

Glad you 'enjoyed' it. (And apologies for any lasting trauma!) :)

Strike while the irony is hot
draycevixen at 2007-11-24 15:31 (UTC) (Link)

Re: *No officer, the Rec list and I are just good friends*

No *lasting* trauma :D

I don't open every story as there are some things that just don't interest me and I will not open those stories unless I receive a personal recommendation to do so *snuggles reading list*
Once I *have* opened it, I try to respond to anything that doesn't make me stop reading before I get to the end. Writers of good fan fiction deserve to *know* that they have an audience (ffnet is a pain in the arse but at least you know that people have read your story because of the Stats). Futhermore, as most of the really excellent ff writers are pursuing their own RL writing as well, feedback on what does and doesn't work is important. No one is getting paid here in any other way.

*Vixen puts down manifesto*

My long way round of saying that I don't read other comments *before* posting my own. I find that if I do, I either lose the will to comment or find that the other comments might change my opinion. I think a writer deserves to know the full range of responses their work has generated.

hmpf at 2008-02-19 23:15 (UTC) (Link)





What everybody else said.

Since this is the kind of thing that leaves me lost for words. ;-)
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