Every so often, things were good.
Nothing else mattered on nights like these, nothing but the two of them, and a desire to make-believe the world outside this lowly apartment didn’t exist. That, even for a moment, they could drop their defenses and breathe.
Low lights stopped shadows from swallowing the room into darkness, surrounding them in the soft ambiance of neon and the smooth beat of music playing in the background of their lovemaking.
There was heat, and moisture, and so much movement.
Fen couldn’t keep his voice down, unable to hide what a fucking mess Vic was making out of him. Every deep-driven thrust into Fen’s body sought places no man could reach or satisfy, no—those places were fed by the beastly man above him. And Vic sank his pierced dick into Fen’s body with a skin-starved hunger—a sip of moans, the taste of sex-damp skin, and every savoring shiver.
Teeth found Fen’s neck, nipping and sinking in until he bled softly, then leaving a red guard of skin sucked raw around each bite. Usually, Fen wouldn’t let anyone leave marks on him, nor did he like carrying small remembrances of strangers he used for a means to survive, but Vic was the only exception. He’d let that man bite until the pain was pleasing, and the marks were dark enough to linger for weeks. And after every bite, Vic would smile and kiss each red wound until the pain was gone.
Once they had their fill of feelings and sweet nothings, the instinct to make up for lost time came out in a savage longing to fuck until their bodies knew nothing else but the taste, shape, and touch of each other.
Vic had a kink for shibari, and he tied Fen’s wrists together, tightly connected his calves to his thighs—each knot met with a gentle caress, and every inch of rope wrapped his body with a promise of immobility and red bruises. There was discomfort, there was pain, but this was the kind of pain he liked, the type that was consensual and wouldn’t cost him a meal if he resisted.
Large, rough hands with a touch of cold steel slid up his hips and sides, moving to grope his chest and tease each nipple surrounded and swollen by dark ropes. Vic’s knuckles pinched one, hard enough to make it known he was beyond playful teasing and pulling until Fen whimpered beneath him.
Fen moaned, a shivering sound accompanied by the stirring of his hips, and Vic’s eyes softened into a look he could describe as a prisoner finding freedom in the gaze of another. And he leaned down, capturing Fen’s lips in a searing kiss.
The night fell around them, and they fucked until their bodies screamed in exhaustion, and their skin cried droplets of sweat. They unlatched from one another and fell against the bed panting with satisfaction.
Still close, Vic nuzzled into the curve of Fen’s shoulder, kissing up to his neck, and together they fell asleep cloaked in white sheets and the aftermath of longing.
Somewhere, in-between time and the spaces of dreams without it, a faraway clock stuck. The ringing of melodic bells hummed through Fen’s body, and their vibrations woke up his senses as they did every night at three in the morning.
Fen sat up in a groggy daze and yawned, stretching into the air to work out the stiffness of his shoulders. Beside him, Vic continued to sleep, looking every bit like a dead fish as he snored unevenly into his pillow. A quiet laugh escaped Fen, and he ran fingers through the longer strands of Vic’s hair, soaking this wonderful feeling of security and contentment for just a moment longer.
With another yawn, he reached onto the nightstand for his cigarettes. Beside the wrinkled box sat a large bundle of money Kellen left behind the other night, which reminded Fen to return it whenever the prick decided to show his face again.
Still naked, Fen got out of bed and walked over to the window, opening it just enough for him to lean against the sill and breath in the cold taste of shadows. A small flame lit his cigarette, and loose embers followed the wind like lost fireflies as Fen inhaled, replacing the taste of night with the smooth burn of menthol and nicotine.
“Good Morning.”
Fen looked down and saw Angel Boy standing in the alley.
Unimpressed, Fen leaned his head against his knuckles and scoped out Angel Boy’s attire; the same coat, but a different shirt, one too loose and too thin for a cold night like this. Both ears sparkled with diamond studs, and similar glints of light reflected off the Rolex around his wrist.
“Are you an idiot?”
Angel Boy looked surprised.
“Wandering the streets dressed like that is a good way to get yourself robbed and killed.” His words came out more frightened than annoyed, an out of place fear for this stranger who walked the darkest part of the streets glittering with riches and begging for trouble.
Angel Boy glanced over his outfit, seemingly trying to find the problem with his appearance, but their eyes met again, and he offered that perfect smile. “I don’t see a problem with looking nice for someone you admire.”
Fen laughed, an impulse he didn’t mean to let out, but Angel Boy’s response was unexpected—and too innocent. “S-Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Your laugh is beautiful,” The summer-blue color of his eyes shifted to the darkening shade of ocean waves at twilight. “Like bottled sunlight.”
“You don’t have to try that hard around here.” Fen smiled a little.
“So why don’t you invite me in tonight?” His voice was so gentle—the angelic whisper lulling dying people toward a light they feared.
“Sorry, full house tonight, and I don’t kick this one out,” He inhaled his nicotine and spoke through wisps of exhaled smoke. “What’s your name anyway?”
“What do you think it is?” Angel Boy asked with the faintest laugh.
“You want me to guess your name?”
“Why don’t you give me one instead?”
“What are you? A pet?” Fen laid his head on folded arms, attempting to hide his growing smile.
“I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”
Fen gave it some thought. He didn’t think it was right to fuck around and say something entirely absurd, seeing how the man would probably go with whatever he suggested. How do you name someone so handsome, so angelic?
“What about…Gabriel?”
“Gabriel.” He repeated.
“You…look like an angel down there, a bright light in this dark and cold alley.” Their eyes met again, and a strange feeling unfolded from the shiver he tried to suppress—a longing to touch that lovely face and embrace the warmth Angel Boy was made of. “Sorry, if I knew other angel names, I’d be more creative.”
“No, Gabriel, it is.” And he smiled more.
“I guess you want my name, too, right? It’s—"
“Oh, I know your name.”
His response surprised—or frightened—Fen, who looked down at Gabriel’s glowing grin and countered with a weak smile pretending to be unbothered. “I guess I’m…not surprised you know it, everyone around here knows, and you’ve probably asked around, right?”
“I. Know. Your. Name.” Gabriel repeated each word with a sudden pause in between them. “I know this name, and I know your real name, and I know everything you’re running from—“
Before Gabriel force him to listen to the past crawling from his lips like a curse, Fen slammed the window shut.
The noise startled Vic, who sat up with a jolt.
“What’s going on?” His voice was harsh, and he glanced over to Fen as he leaned against the window with his head down.
Fen heard the bed creak and heard Vic approaching him before the man lifted his face and titled it many ways to check for injury or signs of distress.
“It’s…nothing.” Fen pulled away. “Just some…creep outside.”
His words came out in a shiver—too breathy, too broken.
Vic cocked a brow and stepped closer to the window, opening it and leaning outside to take a look.
“No one’s out there,” He said, bringing himself back into the apartment. “Someone been bothering you?”
Fen shook his head. “No, it was probably a drunk or something.”
“Was it Kellen?”
“No! No, god, no. He wouldn’t do shit like that.”
“Are you sure? Just tell me what you want, Fen, and he won’t be back here.” The tone in Vic’s voice became a storm—eddies of emotions from irritation to concern to fury all coming together. “I can talk, or I can act. Whichever puts you at ease.”
The cards were on the table.
He knew what Vic was suggesting, and he stood in the middle of a war between the voices in his head—one begging him to tell Vic the truth and the other threatening him to keep his mouth shut if he didn’t want to end up under an overpass.
Just like last time…but worse. And they’ll hurt Vic too.
“Kellen…is just a junkie. He gets high, fucks me, and passes out until morning. Then he stumbles out the door in a daze, and I don’t see him for weeks after.”
Vic didn’t believe him, that was obvious, but after a moment of silent suspicion, he sighed, patting Fen’s face with a troubled sigh. He turned away, stretching and shifting through his jacket for his cigarettes. And Fen stared at him, taking in the sight of bloodied and broken wings inked across his back.
And it seemed as if the shadows in the room were pulling them apart.
Gently, he slipped his arms around Vic’s waist and hugged him from behind before the shadows took him too far.
“You leaving?” He asked, kissing the man’s red feathers.
“Only if you want me to.”
No, not tonight, not any other night, either.
“Stay?”
Vic turned inside Fen’s embrace and hugged back. “Mm-hm.”
They kissed.
Fen got closer, tilting his head back and lifting onto his toes. Vic tightened his arms, sliding his fingers across marks burned into his skin by tight ropes, and deepening the kiss as if Fen was the air, and he was suffocating. He lifted Fen against the wall, looming close and kissing the hands that ran across his face. The distance closed, and their mouths met in a hungrier kiss that sought to leave them both breathless.
Fen wrapped his arms around the man’s neck, holding onto him so the dark could not claim him.
Vic wasn’t warm, his skin was rough, and he smelled of smoke and sex.
But everything was good.
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