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Punch

The night was growing old and more and more people had left the soiree to relax in the comfort of the private rooms. It was a time when many were seeking out their final partners or taking one last lunge at the refreshments.

Vincent found a strange comfort at being wrapped up in a SOLDIER uniform. To him it conveyed a sense of placement and being that he'd never really known and it was an interesting feeling. Even though the outfit was borrowed, he was enjoying his stay in it. And out of it.

All through out the evening he'd found his eyes flitting back to a young man who seemed to be shyly creeping around the corners of the party. He was an unfamiliar face, but a beautiful one nonetheless. He had long dark hair that flowed freely over his costume, also dark. Light shimmered off its intricate borders of tiny silver skulls though, each one having shining red jewels set in the eye sockets.

For all Vincent knew, the demure boy was none other than death himself come to pay a visit to those who had many times over cheated his call.

Curiosity got the better of him.

"What is your name?" Vincent asked, startled that the fey young man had piercing violet eyes that threatened to fade to white in the dimness of the room.

"Ethan," the man replied, reaching to clasp Vincent's claw in both of his hands. "I am a servant of Mother Death."

It was a term Vincent had never heard before, but he was intrigued.

"Why have you come?" Vincent questioned, reaching with his other hand to cup the man's chin and force him to meet his own unnatural eyes.

"Sex is both life and death. I've merely come as a representative," Ethan explained, slipping close to Vincent, close enough to twine his body around Vincent's, quick enough that Vincent could barely think.

Yes, there was something brilliantly unnatural about Ethan. Beneath the fragile and youthful exterior, there was something deep, dark and desirable.

He let Ethan kiss him, tempting him with light and feathery kisses that held a promise for something more delicious.

"Come with me," Ethan said, moving gracefully back a step and gesturing. "You too are like me. You serve Mother Death. Come."

There was nothing in all of the worlds that could have held Vincent back. He couldn't tell just what role the boy was playing but the words he spoke resonated so deeply. It was not difficult to believe that Ethan was truly one sent by a goddess.

They found themselves in an ornate bedroom, almost overdone with a surreal four poster bed in the center and shimmering draperies falling all around it, forming pools of cloth on the ground.

Ethan walked to the edge of the bed, his steps confident and purposeful. He picked up the end of one of the drapes and pulled it, freeing the end from the canopy of the bed so that it fell down to him.

"Come to me."

And somehow, in a blur of kisses and caresses, the shy little fae stripped them both and bound Vincent loosely in the drape, pressing him back and onto the bed.

Vincent could not keep his eyes off of Ethan's body. Lithe and seeming almost hollow, Vincent could only wonder how alive the man bewitching him truly was. Ethan's body belied a deep secret and as Vincent let his arms be bound back against the headboard, Vincent found himself both aching for release and aching to know the pain that visibly tore at Ethan's soul.

He knew... he knew...

"Life and death," Ethan whispered, preparing himself quickly from a bottle of fragrant oil. "This is all life and death."

Vincent knew he could break his bondage, knew he could get away at any time. But he didn't bother, couldn't be bothered. His arousal throbbed at just the sight of Ethan pressing fingers into himself.

Spiraling lines ran down Ethan's arms, inked as a claim. Some were black and others were a blood red. Truly Ethan was what he claimed to be, Vincent thought as he watched Ethan move. And then, as Ethan positioned himself, holding both his own body and then grasping Vincent's erection, Vincent could not keep his eyes open.

He lost himself in the pleasure, moans catching in his throat as he strained to hear Ethan's muffled gasps. The drape held tight as Vincent thrashed at it, wanting his hands free to guide Ethan to move faster. Somehow they'd been equally bewitched. Ethan could tell his strength.

Before it became too torturous, Ethan started moving faster, letting his body come down harder, enveloping Vincent's erection completely and pulling them both closer and closer to release.

"Ethan..." Vincent whispered.

"Life and death, Vincent," Ethan panted, shifting his position to pleasure himself. Vincent couldn't watch. If he opened his eyes to watch Ethan stroking himself he would surely end the moment much too quickly.

He couldn't help himself. For a rare moment he thought himself to be only human. And at that moment Ethan howled in release, body spasming as his seed poured forth, soiling them both.

It was too much. Ethan's body shuddered, wrenching a nearly-unexpected orgasm from Vincent. He fought emptying himself, pulling again at what bound him but having no luck. The world seemed as bright as Ethan's eyes.

"Why?" Vincent found himself asking afterward, when Ethan lay still panting on his chest.

"You know what I know," Ethan said. "You know life, you know death, and you know heartache."

Vincent couldn't bring himself to ask. Finally pulling his hands free, he brought his good hand to stroke Ethan's hair. It was the best gesture he could think and somehow he knew it would never be enough.