Cut

Tomorrow is release day and I’m beside myself with excitement. As a gift to you, I present Daniel and Mike in a flash fiction knife play story.

——————————————–

“Mike?” Daniel’s voice was dry and cracked in the dark as he reached out across the space separating their beds. “Mike, please.”

For his part, Mike was awake instantly, mind racing, heart pounding. Nothing could wake him up like his little brother calling his name, voice jagged with pain. “Danny? What is it, man?” He reached his arm across the gap and grabbed Daniel’s arm, gripping tight. He rolled over and snapped the light on.

“Mike,” Daniel gasped again, unable to get the words out, pressing a palm to his forehead, eyes screwed shut tight.

“Hey, hey, I gotcha.” His voice was sleep roughened, and his throat felt tight with anxiety. Reluctantly, he released Daniel’s arm and sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and shifting to sit next to his brother.

Daniel rolled over and pushed himself to sitting. His eyes screwed shut, he pressed his other palm to his forehead, holding tight like he thought his brain might explode if he didn’t grip it tightly enough. “I need it, Mike. I need you.”

Mike groaned. He didn’t want to do this, didn’t like to do it. It made him nervous, for so many reasons. But he knew it helped, and he’d do anything for this man. The long silver blade rested in the drawer in the table between the beds, where they always kept it these days, close at hand, just in case. It used to be the one they kept for safety, just to have a weapon close at hand, just in case. Now it was the blade that pierced Daniel’s skin on a rough night. Mike pulled it out.

“Give me your arm.”

Daniel slowly dropped an arm from his forehead, lay it forearm up on his knee. He seemed to be barely able to sit still, every few seconds letting out a small huff of exertion.

“Are you sure?” Mike hated to admit to the tremor he heard in his voice. “You sure you need it tonight? Can’t we do anything else?”

The look Daniel gave him said it all, eyes desperate, wild. “Look, if you’re not gonna —”

Mike held up a hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll do it.” He lifted the knife to Daniel’s bicep and dragged it through the skin gently, almost tenderly. Trailing fingers up, he held Daniel’s elbow, turned his arm so that the tenderest part of the arm was exposed, and pressed the point into the skin.

Daniel gasped and groaned. Mike could see his shoulders slump and his body start to relax.

Blood welled up at the tip and began to flow in a trickle towards Daniel’s elbow. He pressed harder and the blood flowed faster, dragging it up and across Daniel’s bicep, cutting a thin line that split the skin and beckoned blood into the light. Mike watched the blood ooze out of his brother and set the knife on the table, unwilling to admit to the heat pooling in his stomach.

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