Title: Brothers In Arms
Fandom: Pairing: Dexter: Dexter Morgan/Miguel Prado
Spoilers: 3x05: Turning Biminese and 3x06: Si se puede.
Concrit: Please. If you spot a typo, feel free to tell me in comments.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Warnings/Squicks: Dexter is a serial killer so... blood, gore. The usual.
Summary: Dexter has never had anyone look at him quite the way Miguel does.
Notes: Written for slashthedrabble prompt #186: Fail, slashtheimage prompt #003 (see thumbnail at end of fic), and mini_wrimo day 6.
Brothers In Arms
Dexter has never had anyone look at him quite the way Miguel does; has never had someone know what he is, what he does, and accept it. Encourage it. Respect him for it.
Oh, he's under no illusions about what it is Miguel thinks he knows, what he believes they have in common, though he's actually pretty close on that score. He isn't sure he’ll ever be ready to let Miguel - anyone - see all of what he is, what he can be.
He's unwilling to introduce his dark passenger to someone new, for obvious reasons. Harry understood; taught him the logistics of it all - the how tos and how nots, the skills, the rules, the expectations. He molded Dexter into a much better monster than he ever would have come to be alone, but, when faced with the practical application of his deadly lessons, he couldn't bear to see what he'd created.
Then there was Rudy... Biney. Brian. He'd embraced their nature, had revelled in it. He'd spent a lifetime following the gleeful directions of his own malevolent hitchhiker. He'd wanted to be family, partner, brothers-in-arms, but Harry's lessons had held fast, and Biney had fallen beneath the wheels of Dexter's freight train of a mission.
And now Miguel calls him brother, shares his beer and his boat, shares his losses and his victories. Wants to share his kills, for the greater good, of course. Wants to make the world a better, safer place.
Dexter gets aroused just considering the possibilities, and that's… never happened before. Sure, he can get it up for Rita - it's gotten to be a habit, and a useful one at that. But this…
He shuts his eyes and sees acceptance in Miguel's smile, and his dick twitches in his hand. He imagines Miguel's fingers locked tight and eager on the hilt of his knife, and he's all the way hard.
He pictures layering his hands over Miguel's own, guiding that surgical blade through the multiple layers of Saran Wrap and tape, down into the meat of their chosen victim. The heart, maybe, or… no, the stomach. A deep blow, but not immediately fatal; they don't want the fun to end too soon.
He sees the blood pool and spread as they work together, carving out a new life from the ruins of the old.
He comes, shuddering, cursing his imagination.
Does he want this?
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Image by angelique at deviantART.
Mini-nanowrimo word count: 3558