[personal profile] brancher
TITLE: Tropic of Cancer
FANDOM: Watchmen
PAIRING: Dan/Rorschach/Laurie
SUMMARY: Written for the kinkmeme. "Rorschach has pubic lice. Who's gonna pin him down and shave him?" Well. Yeah.

Dan notices Rorschach acting oddly, tugging at his suit pants, shifting in his seat. He seems to be having discomfort in his groin area, but when Dan glances down discretely there's no sign of erection. Dan shrugs, figuring it's some emotional tic related to their recent ... activities, and tries to ignore it.

By the end of the week, though, they're all itching.

"FUCKING GODDAMNIT," Laurie says, looking at Rorschach. "Crabs. I cannot fucking believe you. Where did you even GET crabs?"

"Hrm," Rorschach says. Dan doesn't think he's meeting her eyes. "Communal toilet in tenement. Full of strangers' filth. Suspect landlady is whore."

"That's it," Dan says. "You're moving out of that shithole."

"Do not want to discomfort you --"

"More than you HAVE ALREADY?" Laurie asks, scratching.


Dan spends the rest of the day hauling all the sheets down to the basement to put through the washing machine -- "Should boil them," Laurie mutters, sounding not unlike their partner. Rorschach heads home, faceless, to pack up his things; Laurie stalks off to the pharmacy.

When she returns she's grimly holding up a tube of Crab-B-Gone. "Behold," she says, "the head of Holofernes." Dan winces when he sees the tiny V logo on the package. He has always had a feeling that Adrian somehow knows when Dan uses one of his products.

It smells awful, and it burns. "Hold still," she says irritably as she works it in. And then, "Oh for god's sake," as he starts to harden.

"There is nothing remotely sexy about this situation. Jesus, Dan," she says. "Only you."

"Sorry," he says unhappily. She digs in harder with her nails.


Rorschach comes back in the evening, masked, carrying a large cardboard box full of books and papers and a garbage bag of clothes.

"Uh, you should probably leave those down here," Dan says, reaching for the bag. "I'll wash them for you."

"Appreciated, Dan--Oof!" Rorschach says, as something lithe and sleek plows into him, knocking him off his feet.

"Surprise attack, Laurel," Rorschach manages, flipping back onto his feet and using her momentum to slam her into the wall. "Very good." Laurie backhands him across the face and follows it up with a swift kick to the solar plexus.

She pins him on his back, her knee on his chest. "Dan!"

Dan goes over to pull Rorschach's arms above his head and kneel on them, heavily. He's gained some weight lately, so it's all the more effective. "Sorry, buddy," he says, looking down into the shifting mask. "You kind of had it coming."

"Rrrrrraaarl," comes the reply. Rorschach bucks his hips as Laurie pulls down his pants, making sure to keep her weight on his legs. "Do you have the, uh, the stuff?" Dan asks her.

"Oh yeah," she says. "But Mr. Hygiene here is going to get special treatment."

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a straight razor.

"holy shit," Dan says under his breath. Rorschach abruptly stops struggling.

"Do you know how people usually get pubic lice, Walter?" Laurie asks, conversationally. She has set down the razor and taken out a can of shaving cream.

Rorschach is deadly still. So is Dan, holding his breath. He can't look away from Rorschach's pubic hair, orange-red and brambly against his pale skin.

"Fornication," Laurie says.

Fffffffshhhhh, says the can.

Rorschach makes a small, whimpering sound in the back of his throat. Dan feels sweat trickling down the small of his back.

"Parasites," she repeats. "Oh, you can get them from a toilet seat, but usually it's ... skin contact. Intimate. Friction. One person ... rubbing up ... against another."

She's peeling the foam away, and the hair with it. Pale stripes of skin appear, smooth and clean and gleaming.

"Do you know anything about that, Walter?" she asks, and Rorschach makes a sound like a stifled moan.

When she lifts his penis out of the way, Rorschach is already half-hard. She handles him clinically, impersonally, and if anything, Dan thinks, his own groin pulsing, that makes it even more perverse.

"You come here ...," Laurie murmurs, "...filthy, carrying parasites into this house. Into our bed. Unacceptable," she says, and this time he moans out loud. Dan reaches down to ruck up the mask, and slips a thumb into Rorschach's panting mouth.

"We're going to make you clean," she says. Rorschach whines and closes his mouth around Dan's thumb, his tongue scraping at the pad of it. Dan pets his cheek with his other hand, gentling him.

Laurie's running the razor over Rorschach's tightening balls, smoothing the blade down the insides of his thighs. "Nice and clean," she croons. His penis is jerking against the newly-shaved skin of his lower belly, leaving a glistening trail just under his navel.

Laurie runs a hand over the pale skin between his legs. "Smooth as a baby," she says, and Rorschach makes a "hnnnk" sound and comes, arching off the concrete, biting hard on Dan's thumb, hot liquid striping his suit jacket.

He lies boneless afterwards, as Laurie rubs aloe lotion into his skin and tells him how good he is now, how good and clean.


Later, when Rorschach is asleep, Dan puts his hand on the back of Laurie's neck and fucks her into the mattress.

"You ... are so ... FILTHY," he gasps, and comes while she's still laughing.

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