Beauty wrapped in fangs and dripping with the memory of blood, body rich with power and thrumming with need.
Humanity could never compare to who they were.
Their searing kiss lingered on Decker’s tongue as he worshipped the body of his creation and his creation worshipped him, two pairs of hands taking buttons carefully until the impetuousness of a fledgling overtook Laurie’s caution and fabric ripped.
A laugh suddenly bubbled out of him, shoulders shaking. “Shi—oh—” Laurie fumbled with the buttons as another bounced off the floor and he gave up, kicking his shoes off with a giddy, apologetic look. “I’m sorry, I’ll get you a new one—”
He stopped suddenly, shoe half-off, eyes shuttering, and Decker knew he was back in a seminary dorm, fumbling under covers and then packing up his things the next day when a near-stranger’s shame outweighed common decency.
Laurie bore the brunt of it all. “Is this—is there anything you don’t—”
Decker tossed his ruined shirt to the floor. “There’s nothing I don’t want from you,” he said, hands grazing along Laurie’s bare shoulders as he pushed his shirt away, pressing kisses at the side of his throat, along relaxing freckle-dusted shoulders, coaxing soft sounds from him. “I could never not want you,” Decker murmured in the hollow of his neck.
Reaching the buttons of his pants, Decker pressed at them with the pads of his thumbs, his fingertips curling into the waistband.
Decker stopped.
Urged with the heel of his hand, gently.
Waited.
Laurie shoved his hands away.
Shucked off his pants in one motion and kicked them to the side. Looked at him with that hungry, naked expression. Then took Decker’s wrist, pulling him until they were flush, hard, skin-to-cotton and so close he throbbed against Decker’s hip.
“I will tell you if I need a moment,” Laurie whispered, breath hot and sure against his ear. His confidence ebbed, hand trembling, voice thick with need. “Please don’t stop.”
Decker settled into being wanted in the night, not in the dark, by a man he loved. “Alright,” he said.
“Alright,” Laurie repeated, something so soft in the way he spoke, Decker didn’t expect the fangs.
“Easy, preacher,” he gasped as the side of his throat burned, flared hot, then dissolved into pooling, tingling heat. Laurie wasn’t searching for blood, only toying with him, his sharpness coming out from too many years of repression.
Laurie was not a skilled lover, but starving, and nature always found a way. He wrung out a groan from Decker, smoothing over the tiny holes with his tongue as he guided Decker’s hand between them, breath catching.
Laurie fumbled with the buttons of Decker’s pants, hips staggering against his.
Decker curled his hand around him, the slow drag pulling a whine from Laurie. Taking his hand to his mouth, Decker spit and slicked it over his cock before he had a chance to gape at him, prim and affronted.
He still tried.
“Decker—” Laurie hissed, face flushed, fingers frozen, the smooth glide choking out the rest of his likely improper words.
“Easy,” Decker murmured against his neck, the steady motion of his hand measured, slow, as he crowded Laurie back until he was at the closet pew. “Down,” he said, and Laurie obeyed, sinking onto oiled wood, jolting as Decker’s touch left him, his cock twitching against his stomach.
There was a certain sort of trust only built up with repeated, shared, near-death experiences. Here, there were no pressing matters, no plagues.
Only their need. Pulsing. Hungry.
Decker slipped out of his trousers and tucked them under Laurie’s head before he drew him in for another kiss, the heat of his mouth shredding the self-control he had left. Laurie’s breath stuttered, a crack through which he glimpsed the man who died in this church not long ago, like he would forever haunt them.
Their bodies lay together as one, naked skin to naked skin, each memorized heave of their ribcages mimicking the other.
Scripture wove into the threads of Decker’s mind, shining with acceptance instead of condemnation, new memories replacing old, adoration mending bitterness.
Bone of my bones.
Linseed oil slicked his palm, the bottle tipping on the floor next to the pew it was intended for. A moan wrung from Laurie’s throat as he touched him again, sweet and swallowed into Decker’s lips as they gleamed under the filtered moonlight.
