Jenny Jenny Jenny

https://archiveofourown.org/works/81684531/chapters/216673516

Four male kings of the jungle, as the western fables preferred to crown these big cats despite living their lives in savannahs, settled into an upright regal position, chests lifted and forepaws aligned, their steady gazes fixed forward in silent authority sinking into pride. Each one of them was strong with neatly brushed tawny to slightly golden furs. Their manes were thick and unruly similar to their hidden nature, of rich blonde, brown, and black shades. A yellowish brown gold had been the color of their eyes, shining akin to no other due to the light illuminating the ring. Perchance, these beastly creatures were more similar to him by virtue of his left eye softly glowing as that eyeball suffered from leukocoria. Conceivably, that might be the reason why these lions were so keen of him. On that carnival ring, at the far left stood the eldest of them, his head stood moderately higher than the others, serene and graceful. On the opposite side yet still close to the two and twenty years old clown, stood the youngest, formidable yet unmarked by time, with his tail with excitement dancing to the musical rhythm. No sound these beastly large felines produced but their existence alone in the stage ignited their authority similar to their forefathers who had been kings. Whiskers twitched, nostrils flared, and each inhalation seemed to draw the room into their gravity. Only one person could challenge them, earn their respect and obedience, and that was Adam Frankenstein.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/81684531/chapters/215972361

The tremendously gargantuan tall man didn’t find time to protest at the words that warmed his heart when, the distance between them was closed for the first time in a searing kiss. Just like his maker, the kiss had been unconventional for a first one. Drunkenly, Victor Frankenstein ran the tip of a pink and dexterous tongue over the top of Adam’s lips causing the younger man to hitch, whimpering a purr, and slightly open his mouth. Afterwards, the older man slowly tongued the inside of his mouth. Over the dental cavity and the gingivae he mapped what he had done previously with his bare fingers. Adam Frankenstein was convinced the madman did a similar technique a time he once was but as a resting cadaver and his maker wore his beloved red leather gloves. Even as a potential paramour, the skin of a consumed physician could never leave him. The young immortal man perceived this unthought-of affection as Victor examined and memorized him.

Holding the red crimson blanket in his arms and dressed warmly for the sudden spring cold, Victor Frankenstein entered their kitchenette covered with few snowflakes on his being. Before his brown gaze fell upon the Creature, his smile widened informing him that Luck was on their side for the miraculous night, whilst snowfall and angry clouds would evacuate, just for the few hours the two of them to be able to clearly witness the aurora borealis. Lifting his eyes slowly, a deep frown graced the beloved features the Creature was fond of from the first moment of his existence as the reddish burnt mark on Adam Frankenstein was prominent. The reason was that the young man opened absentmindedly his palm to take the near honey jar. The older immortal man’s grip on his cane tightened, in the nearest chair he abandoned his blanket, and rushed he to the Creature’s side to grab his palm and examine the currently fading burnt scar.