We move like cagey tigers
We couldn't get closer than this
The way we walk
The way we talk
The way we stalk
The way we kiss
We slip through the streets
While everyone sleeps
Getting bigger and sleeker
And wider and brighter
We bite and scratch and scream all night... Love Cats - The Cure
(This party is boring,) I Nightspeak to Angelo as a man carrying hors d'oeuvres passes by us for the umpteenth time. (Why did we even come?)
(I was in the mood to dress up.) Angelo grins. (You do look damned good in a tux, my beloved.)
So does he. He has better taste in clothes than I do, so when we heard this affair was gonna be black tie, he declared that it had to be tuxes. He chose matching black ones. Single breasted with four buttons and satin pockets, it has pleated trousers and a vest, a white shirt with a winged collar and oxford shoes. Of course there is a black tie. He wanted cuff links as well, but I drew the line there.
It wasn't like we were invited or anything. Well, of course we got the invite inside, couldn't get around that, but we weren't invited to this party.
The invitation had been in our victim's pocket.
I actually thought it was bad taste to show up for this soiree and perhaps it was even a little on the stupid, risky side, but Angelo was amused by the whole thing and decided we'd represent him.
Angelo always did have a sick sense of humor.
He leans over and kisses me on the mouth. His lips are sugar-sweet and I lick the juice that stains them just a little. He had some earlier; spiriting away one of the prettier boys at the party, behind the great marble staircase, where he quickly got the boy off, drinking from him.
Our kiss grows deeper. I can still taste a trace of the boy's seed and it squeezes my heart even though I know he meant nothing to Angelo but a snack, not unlike the appetizers on these trays that reminds me of my own craving. The taste of blood has roused the Tiger within me and it's making me aware of its presence. For now, it's only stretching, yawning, awakening.
Of course Angelo teased his Tiger when he sampled the boy so his is more demanding.
He suddenly pins me against the wall, brushing against me ever so lightly, just so I can feel how hard he is even through the trousers. "Let's hunt," he whispers in my ear before sticking in his tongue and driving me wild.
(What do I get?) I tease, already aroused by the nibbling on my earlobe.
Angelo's lips vibrate against my ear as he breathes, "a little of this." His tongue blazes a trail across my jaw, then down to my throat, dancing like flame.
It gets me just as hot.
"And a little of that." His teeth sink in and I lose it completely. Crimson drips down my chin as I bite my lips to silence the mewl that nearly escapes them.
Angelo lifts his head just long enough to lick me clean, then his mouth works at my neck, his tongue lapping, sending waves of pleasure through every nerve ending of my body.
I want to leave now, drag him to into the nearest alley, rip off his clothes and jump his bones but I know as much as he wants the same, he's only tantalizing me now, getting me hot and bothered so he can talk me into anything.
Like hunting.
We're stalking the streets of Sargot City's Red District, looking for a pickup. It's been taking forever, but that's because we keep stopping for wet, hungry kisses. His kiss is a drug, an opiate; I'm intoxicated with Angelo and want to just seize our prey, take what we want, then fuck each other's brains out.
By the way he's grinding into me, I get the idea that I'm not the only one.
We settle on a fox-faced boy with auburn hair and jade eyes, who has been giving us lustful glances, and quickly pounce upon him.
The great thing about the Red District is that it is also the Sin District. Anyone out here at this time of night is either selling sex or looking to get laid. This boy is selling it, but for us he's more than happy to do it for free.
We find a semi-private spot behind some dive club and hastily relieve our new friend of his tight clothing.
He reaches for Angelo, who gently pushes him away. "We want to do you," he purrs, licking the sweat glistening on the boy's forehead.
"That is, if you don't mind," I drawl, as I run my tongue along the nape of our pickup's neck and begin to nibble down his spine, towards the small of his back.
Of course he doesn't mind in the least and the three of us sink to the ground in a tangle of hands mouths and tongues.
First the sugar.
We concentrate our attentions on our pickup, with Angelo on his left side and me on the right.
It's a good thing that most body parts come in pairs. Two ears. Two nipples. Every once in a while Angelo and I steal kisses as we lick and bite at them, then work our way downwards...
Now Angelo is playing with him, his tongue brushing against the boy's dripping cock as he focuses on the inner thighs, the belly, anywhere but where it's wanted.
That's alright because I take the kid in my mouth instead. Between the two of us, the stimulation is nearly too much. He's about to come, the sugar in his blood has reached its peak.
Now it's time for the spice.
Just as the pleasure becomes overwhelming, Angelo's teeth sink into his thigh.
The boy cries out in pain. "What the fuck are you do-"
I take him from my mouth because I'm not that cruel and decide to use Angelo's favorite place to tap, just below his right breastbone. At the same time I make a fist, wrap it around his shaft and move it up and down, faster and faster, confusing him to the point where he has no idea whether he's feeling ecstasy or pain.
He's actually feeling both. Sugar-spice. Nothing else would do tonight.
I probe with my tongue before pressing his skin against my teeth. There's no sensation like the skin breaking and the piping hot juice flowing into my mouth. It won't flow for very long, Angelo and I both have to draw it out, and our sucking is in synch. Through the blood bond, our mutual delight builds upon the other one's until we climax, dropping the nearly dead body.
Angelo is giving it a familiar look; he's still hungry and I know he wants to consume it fully. Something I'm tempted to do myself, especially since it would guarantee that there wouldn't be a body to get rid of.
But we really don't need to get rid of this body, no Keeper would dress him like that; he was an independent and no one will miss him. Besides, I'm in the mood for better things.
So I untie Angelo's tie and with it, pull him towards me, kissing him hard. (You wanna eat him, or do you wanna eat me?)
Angelo flashes me a wicked grin. (Considering any more time we waste here means less time with you, I think you know the answer to that.)
We rifle through the pick-up's pockets and take a large wad of credit notes. We'll need the money to pay for a decent place to crash, especially since Angelo has expensive tastes. La Maison has really nice hotel rooms, but it would be pushing it to stay there.
We leave the body behind the club, then start to look for a place to sleep, though sleeping isn't the first thing on either of our minds.
We're so wonderfully wonderfully wonderfully
Wonderfully pretty!
Oh you know that I'd do anything for you...
We should have each other to tea, huh?
We should have each other with cream
Then curl up by the fire
And sleep for awhile...
The Lenox is perfect because money is the great equalizer. They don't give a rat's ass that we're not Supes and they probably know we stole the cash. All that matters is that we pay the nice concierge and we're handed two keycards for the overpriced room.
We slide one of the cards through the slot, punch in the code and the door is unlocked. We had the funds, so we chose a nice luxury suite, complete with Jacuzzi, a fireplace, and silken sheets to cover the nice king-sized bed. I have a feeling that we probably won't make it to the bed anyway, but the appearance of comfort is what matters to Angelo.
His hands cup my chin. (It's a shame we never got to dance. We're certainly dressed for it. It's just as well because they probably wouldn't like the type of dancing I had in mind.)
I'll bet. That crazy grin of his tells me that it wasn't a waltz.
But I'm wrong. He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses the back of it. (May I have this dance?) He asks, completely serious.
It's actually romantic. Angelo is many things, but usually he's too horny to bother with romance. I wonder why he is tonight. I smile anyway. (But of course.)
One arm slides around my waist, the other one reaches over my shoulder and his fingers lace through mine. Then we do our private little waltz slowly in our imaginary ballroom. I can almost hear the violins and the cello, the whole three-string orchestra.
Angelo leads and I move with him. One-two-three. One-two-three. Our feet move in synch until we slow the tempo and the dance becomes slower, more of a grinding of hips, of bodies sliding against each other.
Ain't no way we're gonna make it to the bed.
These are nice clothes, so instead of ripping them off like we'd usually do, we undress each other carefully and maddeningly SLOWLY. We kick off the oxfords, take off the socks and Angelo begins to remove my clothing.
Shit, Angel Boy, why did you have to choose an outfit that had so much clothing?
First he undoes the tie and tosses it in the air with a flourish. Then he unbuttons the jacket and slips it off my shoulders. After that he makes quick work of my vest and shirt. Angelo leaves on my trousers for now because he's a tease.
Oh yeah, he'd rather get on his knees run his tongue along the waistband then nibble my aching cock through the fabric, and nip at my hands when I try to unzip my pants.
Oh, he wants to play, eh? I can play too.
I push him away and begin to work on him.
His tie is already undone, so I take off the coat and vest, but instead of doing away with the jacket, I tug the shirt out of his trousers and slide my hands underneath. My fingers trace along his belly, then move up to his abs and pecs, touching ever so lightly. My hands inch up at a snail's pace, hovering just below his nipples, brushing against them every now and then, until they harden to my touch.
Then I unbutton his shirt and let my mouth and teeth take over where my hands left off. It isn't long before Angelo hisses and pulls away, seizes me and kisses me roughly. "You made your point."
I don't say a word. My smirk is enough.
The teasing is done. We quickly strip and Angelo lowers me to the floor.
Naturally, he's on top.
Usually sex with Angelo is a lot more savage and violent, but he's actually tender tonight. His kisses are hot and passionate, but soft and languid. He's taking his time, and each touch of his tongue sets my flesh ablaze.
Angelo's style is to drive you so wild with lust that you end up begging him for relief and this is no exception. It's not long before I am nothing but a pool of liquid, ready to simmer.
We separate just long enough to maneuver ourselves into a position where he can slip inside me and fuck me into oblivion. Our kind needs extra stimulation, so the pain I'm feeling actually is more of a turn on than torture.
Shit, it's not gonna take long at all.
Stars explode behind my eyes and my nails rake his back as he rapidly brings me to a rolling boil. Oh, yeah, the blood bond we share is doing its thing and our pleasure is building on each other's, amplifying it, and creating this wave of pure ecstasy.
He had me revved up before, but this is the kicker. Just because we don't have to breathe anymore, doesn't mean that we don't breathe heavily when super aroused. Habit, I guess. Now, Angelo's breathing almost as hard as I am.
For a moment, Angelo holds me tightly, clinging. Almost as if he is afraid he'll lose me. Then I see his eyes and I know.
(You fucker,) I say, trying to stop my voice from catching. (You're gonna leave again, aren't you?)
No answer.
The tears stream down my face but instead of wiping them away, I pound my fists against his back. (Damn you, Angelo, answer me!) But he doesn't have to. His silence tells me everything.
"Shhh." Angelo puts his finger across my lips. "Don't speak," he whispers.
I'm infuriated that he's trying to silence me, but a familiar look flashes across his face that warns me against saying another word about it. Bile burns my throat as I swallow my anger and heartbreak.
And he's been inside me all this time. I want to pull my knees to my chest, push with all my strength and throw him off and out of me. I want to do that, but I can't.
I won't.
So I let him kiss and lick the tears from my juice-warmed cheeks and allow him to distract me by doing what he does best. It works. It always does, no matter how hard I try to fight it.
It isn't like Angelo is trying to hurt me, that's the last thing he wants. Things would be so much easier if he was the black-hearted bastard that he plays so well. But life is never easy and he does care about me. He may even love me, though those words have never come out of his mouth. Just not enough.
Not enough.
Afterwards we lay in each other's arms, on top of the nice king-sized bed, Sharing each other but without intimacy. He's already closed himself off from me. Angelo will have sex with almost anyone but will open his heart to no one.
As empty as it feels, it's still better than nothing and I don't want the night to end because I know what will happen tomorrow. I struggle, but eventually sleep overcomes us as I snuggle into his embrace.
I wake up the next night and just as I predicted, Angelo is gone. On the pillow is a credit card, probably to pay for the hotel room. Figures he'd think of that.
Well fuck him, who needs him anyway?
I pound the pillow in frustration and see something on the pillow that I'd missed before.
A red rose.