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03 June 2011 @ 11:27 pm
Saints and Sinners  
Title: Saints and Sinners

Pairing: Josef/Mick

Rating: R

Warnings: Brief mention of thoughts that may be considered suicidal

Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: Written for the Last Author Standing competition, based on the prompt 'Corruption'


Mick stands on the rooftop of his apartment, the city of Los Angeles a sprawling mass of lights and neon stretched out before him. Head tilted with passing curiosity Josef watches as Mick scents the air around them, separating and processing a myriad of different smells: the aroma of life, and death, the emotions and struggle of humanity in between.

“What does it smell like?”


The line of Mick’s mouth is set with grim determination, echoing his displeasure. Josef tries to make light of the situation.

“My favourite scent.”

“Not mine.”

Josef moves closer, adopts a laissez faire pose then; hands in pockets, and legs crossed at the ankles, his weight rested on one hip. “Tell me if you’re planning to start waxing lyrical about the unfairness of it all.”

“I’m not…” Mick’s formed protest follows a little too fast on the heels of Josef’s remark; he catches himself just in time. For his own part Josef says nothing, merely smiles as Mick turns his attention back to Sodom and Gomorrah. “There’s nothing pure in this world.”

Josef responds to Mick’s sorrow with the touch of a hand, his fingers placed lightly under Mick’s chin, drawing Mick’s attention toward his. “There’s us.”

“Sinners,” Mick murmurs in a half forgotten thought, as Josef leans forward, and presses his lips against Mick’s own.

“Sinners and incorruptible saints.”

His arm around Mick’s waist, Josef draws Mick nearer, and deepens the kiss. Mick begins to let go, his body moulding against Josef’s own. It’s what they’d come up here for, a place under the stars, a place to forget as they looked down upon the scuttling of beetles. For a moment Mick thinks about falling, slipping over the edge from on high to leave his body smashed and broken on the sidewalk below. He wonders if he’d survive it, doesn’t remember his ex-wife ever getting that far with his education.

There’s still so much to learn…

Instead he falls with Josef, onto the rooftop cement, wraps himself up in Josef’s embrace. And maybe Josef is right, maybe theirs is the only purity in this world, a purity of sensation and indulgence, unchanging throughout all time.

Sinners and incorruptible saints.