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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Breakdown - 1. 00 Where The Demon Sleeps

The evening was quiet. The large, picture windows of the penthouse looked over the shining city. Inside, all the lights were off save for one lamp on an end table. Two figures were sprawled on the couch, one with his head on the other's chest. Fingers were knit into the fine fabric of the other's shirt. It was a picture of peace and comfort; even the TV's noise was subdued.

Mark sighed happily and snuggled closer to his lover. He had no words, not anymore, to express how he felt about the dark, mysterious creature underneath of him. His chestnut hair fell across his forehead as he nuzzled, and the long, slim fingers of his lover brushed it back over his ear. He closed his brown eyes, listening to the beating of his lover's steady, strong heart.

Aziel kept his incredible blue eyes on the television. His fingers blindly stroked along the curve of the other's cheek, tracing the soft lines that whatever god or genetics had constructed. His shaggy black hair hung to his jawline, framing his angular, sharp face. He blinked slowly, lazily; the way a confident panther would at home in its den. He felt the heat of the other over his chest, stomach and groin.

It was peaceful.

"I have to go away to work again," Aziel said, breaking the long silence. His voice was serene, deep as the oceans trenches but carrying a confident lightness.

Mark looked up at him, large brown eyes, doe eyes, wishing it weren't so. "How long?"

"Just a few days," Aziel replied, still combing his fingers through the other's hair.

"Where?" Mark asked.

"Chicago," Aziel answered. "There's a meeting there that I have to attend."

Mark sighed, and hugged Aziel's waist. "I wish you didn't have to go, but I understand." He closed his eyes and listened to that steady rapping of his heart against his ribs. Bump bump bump, as comforting as rain in the summer.

"The necessary evils of my work," Aziel replied. "Not like I want to go and sit around a table full of lawyers either."

Silence overtook the lovers again, gentle and soft. Mark leaned up and kissed Aziel's throat affectionately. The taller, older man let his eyes slip closed as Mark did so.

"When do you leave?" Mark asked. He shifted up higher on Aziel's body, nuzzling gently.

Aziel allowed himself a small, fine smile that barely distrubed the line of his mouth. If Mark had not known him so well, so deeply, he would have missed it. Aziel was such a secretive creature. "Tomorrow morning," he replied after a moment.

Mark pouted a bit, but hid it with a gentle nibble to his ear. He knew that Aziel hated it when he pouted. "Then I'll have to give you lots of attention tonight," Mark said.

Aziel tore his eyes away from the movie for the first time since they had started talking and looked at Mark. Mark smiled up at him, gazing at the handsome features of the man that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Solid, strong, and beautiful. If there were only three words in the English language that could describe Aziel, that was it.

"Oh?" he asked, his expression almost neutral. There was still that hint of a smile.

"I don't like it when you're gone," Mark whispered, nuzzling his nose into Aziel's jawline. "The bed feels so empty."

Aziel slid his hands over Mark's back. He took a deep breath, sharply inhaling the scent of the other. He smelled of laundry soap and the faint remnants of whatever cologne he had anointed himself with before leaving for work. Aziel closed his eyes, letting his hands and his sense of smell guide him. Mark was familiar territory, explored and relished.

"I have to leave," Aziel said, his deep voice merely a whisper. "But I will always come back."

Mark thrust his hands up around Aziel's neck, burying his fingers in his soft hair. He'd kept it black for a while; Mark wasn't sure if he preferred it when Aziel was blonde or not. The long hair was different; he seemed to change his mind on his hair style as frequently as Mark changed his clothes. He like the longish locks; they were fun to hold on to when Aziel was over him.

Maybe that's what Aziel liked about it, too.

The affection between the two lovers on the couch grew. Aziel's hands explored first tentatively, and then with more vigor. He slid across his shirt, and found purchase on his heated flesh. Light, soft fingers moved up Mark's spine.

"Aziel," Mark said, already breathless from the slow rock of their bodies together. "I love you."

"And I you," Aziel breathed, the words feeling unfamiliar in his mouth. He kept his eyes closed, tilting his head. Finding the source of that scent of cologne, he pressed his lips to Mark's throat.

He undressed Mark slowly, as if he were unwrapping a precious and delicate gift. Pale skin glowed in the low light of the TV and the lamp, shivering into raised gooseflesh with the passing of talented fingers and the nipping of teeth. Together, they twined, a panting red animal of lust. Mark's fingers found the flesh between Aziel's legs and squeezed firmly.

"I want this inside of me," Mark whispered.

Aziel did not reply with words. He grasped the other's rear firmly and pulled him close, rubbing the tips of their members together. Mark relished in the closeness with his lover, moaning as he felt Aziel's veined member along his own.

Aziel reached over to the side table and removed a small tube. At first, Mark had been embarrassed by the little tubes scattered throughout the penthouse, but with Aziel's unpredictable appetites... it made sense. He handed the small tube to Mark.

He didn't need the orders, Aziel said enough with those calm, icy eyes. Mark shivered under their gaze, and squeezed some of the slippery substance into his palm. Then he spread it over the girth of Aziel's member.

"Mm," Aziel purred, shifting his hips and leaning his head back. "Good."

Mark panted as he shifted his position. Aziel's shirt was open now, and his pants were down just enough to reveal him. Mark was only wearing his shirt, pulled up over his nipples. Aziel reached up and gently rolled them between his fingers as Mark took up Aziel's cock and pressed it against his ass.

There was a moment where the two lovers shared eye contact, and then Mark started to slide down his member. He winced as he did so, letting the large shaft of flesh find its way into him as he sunk down. It was wonderful being filled by him.

Aziel shifted his grip and grasped his hips, lightly bucking into him as Mark started to ride him, his hands on Aziel's shoulders. Aziel watched everything; the rhythmic sliding of his cock into the other's ass and the bounce of his lover's hard shaft. Mark moaned softly.

The older man knew that Mark wouldn't come simply by riding him, and took up the hard shaft in his hand. Stroking him while he rode his member, Aziel watched Mark's face flush and wrinkle with pleasure. It was beautiful.

Through the whole night, Mark was beautiful.

Aziel left the next morning with his two large, blue bags. He flew by private jet to his meeting in Chicago. Alone in the penthouse, Mark felt that being the lover of one of the most poweful lawyers in the eastern United States was hardly worth it when he was without him so much of the time.

Aziel arrived at his hotel room. It was a dingy place, with no carpet and a small, cracked window. Peeling wallpaper and a broken television were the only decorations. There was a small, sagging bed that held his two blue bags. He had used the place before, and it was prefect for his needs.

The proprietor didn't keep very good paperwork, after all...

Aziel unzipped the long, lead-lined case that he had in one of his blue bags. The dark, chrome shine of a dismantled sniper rifle lay in the custom-cut foam. He checked over the weapon for the final time before zipping the case back up. Unpacking the second blue bag, he changed out of his business suit and into a dark, form-fitting sneak suit.

He peaked out the cracked window to the street below. There were a couple people on the streets; pimps or druggies, and a few parked cars. Nothing was stirring tonight, but there was a police siren in the distance.

Returning to the bed, Aziel pulled out a large manella tag envelope and looked at the photographs inside. Aziel's blue eyes took in every detail of the photographs, ever nuance. Slowly, he packed the photographs back into the envelope. Aziel slipped on a long dark coat and picked up his heavy, lead-lined case.

Time for work...

Copyright © 2010 Archangel_of_Pain; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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