Warming Cold Hands

Rose Rot - posts that explore problematic pairings or content: agegap, dub/noncon, pseudo/incest, etc.

(A) may be underestimating the risk (B) poses to them, or perhaps they've gone crazy with loneliness out here in the woods. Either way, they've been leaving pieces of raw meat and the occasional dead pest for (B), watching the tree line for any glimpse of them— unaware of how often (B) is watching them right back, just out of view, gaze unwavering.

As a young adult dating a literal skeleton several times their age, (B) has overheard plenty of derogatory comments about their intentions with (A). Rumors aside, however, (B) isn't simply grinning and bearing the relationship for the sake of money— they love the old skeleton, and (A) cherishes them right back.

(B) knows that (A) would never hurt them, but the urge to cringe away from their lover's mouth is one they can't shake. Any attempt at kissing them brings back painful memories of teeth tearing into flesh; the trauma of first being bitten and then transformed into some thing that bites.

(B)'s body, despite defying death itself, still has to combat the effects of decay. (A)'s unconditional support in the matter makes maintaining their body bearable: gentle hands sewing numb skin back together, warm lips kissing tepid tears from their loved one's eyes.

There are plenty of rumors circulating around (A) and the zombie they keep at their side: Other monster hunters questioning whether or not their colleague has gone soft, civilians wondering if the undead child means them any harm. Of course, none of those rumors will ever reach (B)'s ears. Not when they're held in (A)'s scarred arms, the human glowering at anyone who gives them a second glance.

Much to their chagrin, (A) is not disturbed by (B)'s pallid flesh and milky eyes. Rather, they find themselves enamored with the corpse-like appearance of their test subject, unable to meet (B)'s amused gaze as they point out the scientist's blush.

(B) doesn't have the heart to reject (A)'s gifts of dead squirrels, birds, whatever they can get their little hands on. Not when (A) looks so proud of their own hunting skills, of being able to provide for their caretaker in their own way. (The human simply resigns themselves to never getting a pet...)

When (B) refused to willingly stay by (A)'s side, the necromancer took their darling's life and turned them undead. It doesn't matter to them if (B) is a walking corpse, now, so long as they stay close– although (A) does wish they could do something about that perpetually numb look in their beloved's eyes.

(A)'s undead body is cold, their organs uncannily still within them. That's what lead them to appreciate just how warm (B) is in their arms, and around their cock– they draw the experience out for as long as either of them can bear, savoring each and every reaction they can draw from (B)'s body, inside and out.

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(A), no matter how many times their darling tries to get rid of them, is unable to die. They smile through (B)'s increasingly desperate murder attempts, finding them to be cute (or, perhaps, amusing.)

(A) managed to reanimate their relative's corpse, refusing to lose them, but now (B)'s behavior is strange and unrecognizable— and they no longer seem to recognize (A), either.