What If?// WDW BxB: Corbyn-Shots

Day 29: Candles- Jorbyn

Summary: Candles can be used for a lot more than just scenting the air. For example, you could use them for punishments or light... or punishments

Corbyn's POV
" Do you remember the safe word?" Lazy eyes trailing after the flame's quick dance. Jerks sharp and sudden, whipped to and fro by the slow winds of their ceiling fan.

" Yes, Daddy," Corbyn studied the orange glow of pooling wax, tugging gently at his restraints.

" Tell Daddy what it is."

" Notebook," the very edge of his mouth quirked up. Flecks of burning yellow dancing in steel-blue.

Radial working beneath milky skin, allowing the slight, slow twist of his wrist. Ashy clouds staining transparent glass, warming the holder's surface.

A few foggy drops fell, splashing against his belly with quiet taps. Mere inches from much darker flesh. Wrinkles writing a story of agony, of betrayal. The words forever transcribed into snow-white planes.

Rigid rope nuzzled into pale wrists, the rippling threads embedding themselves into pink skin. Body curling in with the firm arch of his back. A shrill cry ripping from his throat. Magma blending with crimson blood, searing his veins, branding his organs.

" Tell me what you did," the candle gradually descended. The boiling ocean lapping at the very edge. Constantly threatening the boy below.

" I let another man kiss me," Corbyn hardly breathed, stomach dipping into a shallow crater. Flickering light turning pastel pink burnt organe.

" What else?"

" And I-I didn't tell you. I'm sorry, Daddy," the jerk subtle, no more than a subconscious twitch. Unleashing a sweltering flood, the wave cascading down the smooth valleys separating tense abs. The bed frame's groaning cries blending with his own, wails tearing at his esophageal lining.

The flame's shine quenched with a single blow. Flecks of worry drifting through metallic skies.

" Notebook! Notebook! Jonah stop!" Glass met wood with a sharp, careless clank. Fingers working quickly to undo sloppy knots, nestling into the spaces between the thin rope. The plush fabric of a nearby towel wiping away the liquid fire, stinging against the burn.

Palms dug painfully into the blistering wound, bending over his hand. The soft patter of dripping tears accompanying sobbed whimpers. The melancholic symphony echoing deep within him, gripping tight at Jonah's heart.

" Let me see, Princess," Corbyn's hand barely tilting. Desperate to protect the washed out skin, void of all color. As if the blood itself had been evaporated.

Strong muscle tensed around immovable bone, retreating from the freezing burn. Jonah's mouth bumping his forehead, speaking gently," I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to pour so much."

Corbyn's painted face tucking into his neck, warm tears leaving glistening trails," it hurts, Joan. It hurts so much."

" I know, Baby, I know," gentle arms brought him close. Lips ghosting over any area he could reach, breath hot against cold skin. Navy blue concealing the frosted pack, pinning it to peeling abs.

" I didn't kiss him. He kissed me. You know I would never," the only words to break the whimpering silence. Corbyn barely drawing back, frozen sapphires gazing up into iron bars.

" I do," plush lips drifting over his forehead, muffling the whispered words," I just wish you had told me. I knew you were hiding something from me and I thought... I guess I just assumed the worst."

Blonde locks fell to the side, Corbyn's head tipping north. Perfect lips meeting his love's," you're my one and only. Don't ever forget that."

" I won't," the tip of Jonah's nose brushing past his own. The eskimo kiss short, though dripping with affection.

" I don't ever wanna hurt you," Jonah admitted quietly," I won't ever do this again."

" I kinda like it though. The pain I mean," gleaming teeth nuzzling his plump. Fingers drawing lazy shapes into bare skin," you'll just have to find some other way to punish me."

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