Anniversary
folder
1 through F › Constantine
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,878
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
0
Category:
1 through F › Constantine
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,878
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Constantine, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Anniversary
Title: Anniversary
Author: RockabillySaint
Pairing: Lu/John
Warning: Mentions of suicide, slash
Disclaimer: Not mine, don’t sue.
Summary: “Remember John?”
Note: When I first saw this movie in theaters I was immediately stunned by how awesome they made the Devil, as played by Peter Stormare. His interaction with Keanu sent my slash-o-meter off the richter scale lol. Which was even more amusing since I watched the film with an uber religious “friend” of mine. Fun times. Anyway, yes, it took me this long to write for them. But now I can mark one more pairing off my list so I’m satisfied :)
________________________________________________________________
The bathroom fills with fog, musty, damp, fading the edges of the mirror. Constantine lays quietly in the tub, hot water lapping at his chin and the water rippling with every exhalation.
It’s the only way he can relax, the only way he can let himself forget who he is, what he does. . . where he’s going. Like even the most scolding water could compare to the stifling air of hell, where with every breath it feels like you’re taking in embers, knowing they’re the ashes of bodies and unable to cough them out.
But being the optimist Constantine is he doesn’t think on that for long, instead focusing on the bowlers downstairs, the honking of horns and yelling of the stupid, innocent people outside. Paired with the lazy soak it’s almost enough to make him dismiss what day it is, what it means. But as soon as the thought takes shape there’s the smell of sulfur, of rotting earth and burnt hair. A long time ago the stench made him gag. Now it might as well be roses.
“Hello John.” Voice like sliding vipers washing over Constantine’s ears.
A whisper: “You’re late.” The Devil nods and sits on the edge of the tub, his oil slick feet squeaking against the tile floor as he roots himself. John spares him a glance, noticing the black suit with a sheen of violet every time the man moves. How perfectly vain and garish.
“Sorry about that Johnny-boy. Trouble at home.” John nods, smiling humorlessly as he forces himself to look into blue eyes with the shine of a dull razor. “You look good in black Lu. Brings our your soulless eyes.”
“You’re such a charmer John.” Says Lu through a chuckle, choking off at the end like it hurts him to laugh.
John watches as Lu’s hands sweeps into the water, mesmerized by the green-pale hand, unable to turn away even when he realizes that the water isn’t rippling. The panic slowly rises within him, like a spike driving through the center of his chest and the urge to cough overcomes him. But he can’t open his mouth, can’t even move as Lu reaches down and grabs his hand, drawing it from the water like a serpent.
Lu rubs the tender skin of his arm, causing goose-flesh to rise in its wake until he reaches Constantine’s wrist. The exorcist stiffens as a gentle finger caresses the scar there, a permanent reminder of his greatest sin. The Devil grins as a forked tongue pushes past his lips, laving the skin and sending a jolt through Constantine’s body so hard his vision blurs.
Then there’s pain: sharp, emanating from his wrists. They’re cut, the red pouring down the porcelain and into the water, ribbons of his life that dispel like silk. Lu’s lapping at the crimson, his teeth pink and blood pouring down his chin like chocolate syrup.
“Remember John?” He asks, voice sugary sweet and laced with venom. Constantine can’t answer, just stares at the sight in front of him, disgusted and fascinated.
“The words of the wicked are to lie in wait for blood,” begins Lu, taking one more sluggish lick of sanguine.
“But the mouth of the upright shall deliver them.” Finishes Constantine, almost without realizing it. “Yes,” utters the Devil, pleased with John’s answer.
“The Romans used to slit their wrists in a warm bath. It was used to save face.” Lu’s smile broadens, and he reaches over with his free hand and grabs John’s hair, wrenching the exorcist’s head back until his neck cracks. “Is that what you were doing John?”
Constantine shakes his head. “I don’t remember.” Was Lu referring to now, or the past? Somehow it didn’t matter, and Lu released him with a snarl. “Of course you do John. You always know.” A splash of water as Constantine’s hand fell, the water a sickly shade of pink, a red sea parted by hands and knees.
“Until next year.” And Lu was gone, faded into the steam, the smell of sulfur lingering in the air.
Constantine took a gulping breath of air, filling his lungs like he’d been drowning. Startled he inspected his wrists, finding no marks aside from the faded old ones. The water surrounded him was clear but ice-cold, and he shivered as he scrambled out of the tub.
Leave it to Lu to be so goddamn poetic, especially on the anniversary of their first meeting.
Just one more tick on the clock of his mortal life before he was Lu’s for all eternity, before hell on earth became the real kind of fire and brimstone, and one more time that Lu reminded him, making it that much worse.
Author: RockabillySaint
Pairing: Lu/John
Warning: Mentions of suicide, slash
Disclaimer: Not mine, don’t sue.
Summary: “Remember John?”
Note: When I first saw this movie in theaters I was immediately stunned by how awesome they made the Devil, as played by Peter Stormare. His interaction with Keanu sent my slash-o-meter off the richter scale lol. Which was even more amusing since I watched the film with an uber religious “friend” of mine. Fun times. Anyway, yes, it took me this long to write for them. But now I can mark one more pairing off my list so I’m satisfied :)
________________________________________________________________
The bathroom fills with fog, musty, damp, fading the edges of the mirror. Constantine lays quietly in the tub, hot water lapping at his chin and the water rippling with every exhalation.
It’s the only way he can relax, the only way he can let himself forget who he is, what he does. . . where he’s going. Like even the most scolding water could compare to the stifling air of hell, where with every breath it feels like you’re taking in embers, knowing they’re the ashes of bodies and unable to cough them out.
But being the optimist Constantine is he doesn’t think on that for long, instead focusing on the bowlers downstairs, the honking of horns and yelling of the stupid, innocent people outside. Paired with the lazy soak it’s almost enough to make him dismiss what day it is, what it means. But as soon as the thought takes shape there’s the smell of sulfur, of rotting earth and burnt hair. A long time ago the stench made him gag. Now it might as well be roses.
“Hello John.” Voice like sliding vipers washing over Constantine’s ears.
A whisper: “You’re late.” The Devil nods and sits on the edge of the tub, his oil slick feet squeaking against the tile floor as he roots himself. John spares him a glance, noticing the black suit with a sheen of violet every time the man moves. How perfectly vain and garish.
“Sorry about that Johnny-boy. Trouble at home.” John nods, smiling humorlessly as he forces himself to look into blue eyes with the shine of a dull razor. “You look good in black Lu. Brings our your soulless eyes.”
“You’re such a charmer John.” Says Lu through a chuckle, choking off at the end like it hurts him to laugh.
John watches as Lu’s hands sweeps into the water, mesmerized by the green-pale hand, unable to turn away even when he realizes that the water isn’t rippling. The panic slowly rises within him, like a spike driving through the center of his chest and the urge to cough overcomes him. But he can’t open his mouth, can’t even move as Lu reaches down and grabs his hand, drawing it from the water like a serpent.
Lu rubs the tender skin of his arm, causing goose-flesh to rise in its wake until he reaches Constantine’s wrist. The exorcist stiffens as a gentle finger caresses the scar there, a permanent reminder of his greatest sin. The Devil grins as a forked tongue pushes past his lips, laving the skin and sending a jolt through Constantine’s body so hard his vision blurs.
Then there’s pain: sharp, emanating from his wrists. They’re cut, the red pouring down the porcelain and into the water, ribbons of his life that dispel like silk. Lu’s lapping at the crimson, his teeth pink and blood pouring down his chin like chocolate syrup.
“Remember John?” He asks, voice sugary sweet and laced with venom. Constantine can’t answer, just stares at the sight in front of him, disgusted and fascinated.
“The words of the wicked are to lie in wait for blood,” begins Lu, taking one more sluggish lick of sanguine.
“But the mouth of the upright shall deliver them.” Finishes Constantine, almost without realizing it. “Yes,” utters the Devil, pleased with John’s answer.
“The Romans used to slit their wrists in a warm bath. It was used to save face.” Lu’s smile broadens, and he reaches over with his free hand and grabs John’s hair, wrenching the exorcist’s head back until his neck cracks. “Is that what you were doing John?”
Constantine shakes his head. “I don’t remember.” Was Lu referring to now, or the past? Somehow it didn’t matter, and Lu released him with a snarl. “Of course you do John. You always know.” A splash of water as Constantine’s hand fell, the water a sickly shade of pink, a red sea parted by hands and knees.
“Until next year.” And Lu was gone, faded into the steam, the smell of sulfur lingering in the air.
Constantine took a gulping breath of air, filling his lungs like he’d been drowning. Startled he inspected his wrists, finding no marks aside from the faded old ones. The water surrounded him was clear but ice-cold, and he shivered as he scrambled out of the tub.
Leave it to Lu to be so goddamn poetic, especially on the anniversary of their first meeting.
Just one more tick on the clock of his mortal life before he was Lu’s for all eternity, before hell on earth became the real kind of fire and brimstone, and one more time that Lu reminded him, making it that much worse.