Silent Meeting
Silent Meeting
'All this was anticipated
He crept into my apartment like a shadow of himself, silent footed and stealthy but I knew he was there. He knew I knew he was there, and it made no difference. The game would be played as it always used to be, this time not straying from the last.
But we were different now. We had both grown and learnt all manner of things that we had never conceived to exist in the old days. In this time we are more brothers in darkness than we ever were, and we needed to join together to defend ourselves from the multitude of dangers that loomed on every back street.
I remember when we were those dangers, before the times of competent enemies, before the times of global intelligence. We were the black that stalked your dreams, we were the whispers of sin and vice. No longer.
How I miss those times!
I knew he did too - my silent hunter, my dark angel loved the night even more than I did, he loved to play in the shadows of the black realm and stalk the day things. My childe was a leaf on the breeze of impossibilities, an unfathomable mystery of pale angles and mind bending contradictions.
He stepped behind me, wrapping his thin arms around my neck and linking his hands together on my chest. I wished for the fabric of my shirt to magically disintegrate but was left wanting. His cool hands walked down my covered flesh, working at the muscles in a pattern intended to relax yet causing me to tense, to strain to keep the fragile control.
His hair brushed my forehead, he had let it grow because it pleased me, and my dead nerves tingled. His ice lips planted butterfly kisses on the parts of my face he could reach. I closed my eyes to him, losing myself in the almost forgotten pleasures of his touch, and felt a swelling of pride; he was mine, my creation, my student, my boy. I had taught him well, and allowed myself a brief moment of congratulation.
What went through his mind as he stepped around to face me, still working his sensuous magic on my tired body? What did he want as he straddled my lap and carefully kissed every inch of my bare skin? I heard him breath softly, felt the release of air on my cheek and caught the promise of my name as he uttered it in his ministrations. My stone heart contracted.
His lips met mine and our tongues warred for supremacy. His mouth was hot - he must have fed before coming here - and the cold in mine melted beneath the force of his passion.
The duel faded into an exploration of the territory that was once so familiar to me. I cut myself on his sharp fangs, tasting the copper pang of blood for the first time since yesterdawn, and I began breathing quickly.
Sacred warmth spread to my groin and I pushed against him, wanting release from the constricting denim I had foolishly wrapped around myself. He acquiesced, sliding the fabric down my legs and working his celebrated magic on my member. Pangs of painful pleasure rocketed through me and I sighed into him, exploding beneath his familiar touch.
He moved his mouth away from mine and trapped me in cloth once more. His thin fingers held my face, and I imagined him trying to etch every detail into his mind. I had done this once, long ago.
Then I was cold. I heard the door click open, and the winter touched me for a second before it was closed to me again. He was gone.
I opened my eyes to the darkness of the place I naively called home. How could it be my home when my childe was not here with me? How could I live anywhere without him, he who could hurt and please me like no other?
This despair was familiar to me, I felt it every time I was left after our silent meetings. No one knew he came to see me, no one knew that he still cared. We were strangers in that outside world. It was the way we both proclaimed that we wanted it.
I am such a liar.