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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 - 19. 18 Crave

Cam was standing in his kitchen, staring at out the large window that was in his living room. His hands were on the counter, his back bent, his legs casually crossed. He was biting his lip, working it to the fragile point of pain just before it began to bleed. He ran his tongue over the tender patch of skin on his tongue, tasting the hint of copper that he would soon release.

This was bad.

Cam could feel it clawing at his mind. He could feel it like rough, hard fingers through his skull, scraping against the bone. His heart beat fitfully, shuddering with each beat. His fingers started to drum on the counter. He couldn’t feel them, he could just hear them.

The little plastic demon was in front of him. The phone that Aziel had given him had sustained a little damage since it had been given to him. The little LCD screen was still in good condition, gleaming up at him like a pale eye. Every once and a while, Cam would lean down and look into the pale eye of the phone, checking the time.

Why wouldn’t it fucking ring?

Cam whimpered and pulled himself away from the phone, as if he were wounded by its lack of response. Then he went to the fridge, looking for something to eat to calm himself. He knew that nothing in there would satisfy the horrible craving that was welling inside of him. He knew that nothing in the whole world would, except the silver sting of Aziel.

Cam hugged himself and stood in front of the open door of the fridge. This was the fourth or fifth time that he had opened it tonight, staring at the contents. There was a small Tupperware container of the Hamburger Helper that he had the other day, half a quart of milk, and some mayonnaise. Piled in the crisper were some golden apples, three oranges, and a half-eaten bag of salad. Cam’s appetite just wasn’t what it used to be… and he didn’t need the bathroom scale to tell that he was losing weight.

What exactly was Aziel attempting to accomplish with this?

Cam closed the door to the fridge and went back to staring out the window, tonguing that delicate spot on his tongue where the blood was pumping beneath a fine, transparent layer of skin. He swallowed thickly, his throat clicking. Maybe he should get some water?

Fuck water.

He needed the goddamn phone to ring.

It had been two or three days since Aziel’s last visit. Some fatally hopeful part of Cam wondered if maybe Aziel had left him, decided that he wasn’t any fun anymore and went off to find a new whore. If that hopeful part in Cam’s brain could be represented by one brain cell, the other cells were certainly clamoring to overrule it.

Cam slowly turned around again, looking at the front of the fridge. Could he just eat the Hamburger Helper and then go to bed? Could he force himself to sleep when he was like this? Cam rubbed his face.

He’d done some research at an Internet café about drug addiction. He knew he was going to have to be careful not to get himself hooked on something else while he was trying to beat it. Of course, this was a moot point at the moment, because Aziel still knew where he was and how to contact him.

Cam was well aware that his time was running out.

One more week, Cam assured himself. One more week, and I’m free.

He swallowed again and was about to pull out the Hamburger Helper and warm it up when the little plastic demon behind him leapt to life. The ringer was loud and shrill, and Cam scrambled to pick it up. He couldn’t keep the desperation out of his voice.

“Hello?”

“Two hours. Eat something,” Aziel’s cool voice replied. He hung up the phone, and the little LCD screen dimmed.

Two hours.

Aziel arrived perfectly on time. Cam had to physically restrain himself from waiting at the door like a puppy, and instead curled up on the couch, watching the front door with veiled interest. He was looking at the TV, but he was hardly watching it. Watching it would have required that he were paying attention.

Aziel knocked. Cam leapt up from the couch, hands shaking. Slowly, he walked towards the door to let the demon into his house. Aziel’s neutral face, ice-blue eyes, and long dark hair greeted him. Cam stepped back to let him in. Aziel was wearing a nice business suit and carrying a briefcase. He looked darkly handsome. For not the first time, Cam wondered about Aziel’s life outside of their little arrangement.

“Hey,” Cam said, always feeling that this greeting was awkward.

Aziel looked at him, and then closed the door. “You look like shit,” Aziel said. “Did you shower?”

“Y-yes,” Cam answered, running a hand through his hair. He knew there were dark circles that no sleep could fix under his eyes, and that his weight loss was making his cheeks look hollow.

“Hm,” Aziel said softly. “Do you want something?”

Cam knew Aziel well enough now to sense the smile behind his words, despite the fact that it didn’t make it to his face. He knew what he wanted before he said a word. Cam nodded, and then stepped forward. He cupped his hand over Aziel’s groin, his mouth pressing against his throat.

“Yes, please, Aziel,” he begged. He felt his eyes start to water from an unknown emotion.

Aziel put one arm around him and cupped his rear. Cam shivered, pressing his lips together. Aziel turned his head down to whisper in Cam’s ear. “If you make me feel good, I’ll make you feel better,” the demon whispered. Cam shivered at his words, his fingers curling in the fabric of his expensive suit. A trained hand rubbed against the growing hardness in his pants.

Cam could only nod to that.

Today, they didn’t make it to the brown bedroom. Instead, Aziel took Cam to the living room, where he lay slightly sprawled in the corner of the couch. Cam stood for a moment, considering his options, and then knelt on the couch by Aziel’s knee. He ran his hands up the man’s thighs, not looking up at his face. His heart was hammering in his chest with the excitement of getting release from this craving…

Slowly, Cam’s hands slid up to Aziel’s groin. He gently kneaded it through his pants, hearing Aziel give a soft sigh. He pulled out Aziel’s dress shirt from his pants. Cam had to admit that something thrilled him about taking apart someone who was so carefully put together. Taking a stiff and pressed businessman and turning him into a sweaty, lustful mess was hot…

Cam ran one hand along Aziel’s firm stomach. He felt the muscles slide under the skin, hot and hard. Gingerly, he undid the other’s pants and slid them down just enough to reveal the waiting organ beneath.

Aziel let out a soft sigh as his member was pulled free. He watched as Cam leaned over to lick at the throbbing head, tentative at first. Aziel could almost feel the other’s urgency, and a small smile came to his lips. So wanting of the drug that Aziel had, but still together enough to know that he had to work for it…

Cam ran his tongue along the edge of Aziel’s tip, his fingers playing lightly along the shaft as he did so. He settled himself down more, so he was almost lying on Aziel’s hip. Concentration written plainly on his face, Cam slowly sucked the other into his hot mouth.

Aziel leaned his head back a little and stifled a groan. Cam was a talented little whore, and he was attentive to what Aziel enjoyed. It had taken him less than a week to find all of the important buttons for pleasing Aziel. It had taken Mark the better part of a year.

But things were certainly different with Mark, weren’t they? Aziel had to work for that one.

Cam’s throat clenched around Aziel’s tip, and Aziel couldn’t help but let out a soft groan. His hips shifted as the whore slid one hand up his stomach. Cam kept his eyes closed as he sucked him deeply, pulling his mouth against Aziel’s shaft. Cam felt a flare of pain against his nearly broken lip with every heartbeat that pulsed through Aziel’s member.

Cam listened intently for Aziel’s breathing. With careful attention, he brought the assassin to his climax, listening to the stifled moan, the creak of the couch as he arched, and the gasp as he finally released. Cam felt the other’s seed splash hot and thick against the back of his throat and over his tongue. Willingly, he lapped up the bitter seed. Finished, he pulled from Aziel’s softening member and wiped his mouth with his hand.

Aziel smiled at him, the lazy, satisfied smile of the cat that had captured the mouse. “Good, Cameron,” he said smoothly. “Do you want something now?”

Cam nodded, daring to glance into those ice-blue eyes.

“Then lay back,” Aziel said softly. “And undress yourself.”

Cam nodded again and went to comply. Aziel stood and walked to the door, where he picked up his briefcase and opened it. Inside was the little blue roll. Cam swallowed thickly when he saw it, his hands shaking as he tried to undo the button on his pants. He slid them over his slim hips along with his underwear. He lay down on the couch, his head propped up against one of the pillows on the arm. He closed his eyes and tried to keep his breathing even.

He heard Aziel approach him. He knelt by the couch and unrolled his little blue roll of poison. Cam heard the squeak of the needle going into the bottle. He heard the hiss as Aziel squeezed out the bubbles. The syringe was laid aside, and Aziel took up the rubber tubing to wrap Cam’s arm.

Cam offered him no protest. His fingers were white where they gripped the couch with his free hand.

The sting of the needle was expected and desired. Unexpectedly, it made Cam’s member jump against his stomach. He felt the warmth flood into his arm, and then through his whole body as Aziel released the rubber tie.

Aziel watched Cam’s expression of relief. Slowly, Cam’s hips writhed on the bed. Aziel smiled and lightly toyed with Cam’s member. The whore opened his eyes and gazed at the ceiling before pulling his gaze towards Aziel.

“Please… fuck me,” he mumbled. “I need to feel you in me.”

Aziel’s smile was poison as he slowly undressed himself, watching his whore writhe in the grips of his high. Naked, Aziel’s firm body pressed against Cam’s. Cam wrapped his slim, smooth thighs around Aziel’s waist. He didn’t want to be prepped, he just wanted to be fucked. Shaking hands explored Aziel’s neck, shoulders, and chest. The assassin leaned forward and kissed his nearly broken lips.

In his little roll of drugs, Aziel also kept a small glass vial. He leaned over and uncapped it with a flick of his thumb, and poured some over Cam’s groin and entrance. Then he wiped his hand along it, smearing it over his own length. It tingled slightly where it touched, making Cam lean his head back and moan in drugged ecstasy. When Aziel started to push into him, Cam was aware that he was nearly screaming with pleasure.

Cam’s body jerked towards Aziel’s, responsive and willing. He hated himself when he was like this, gasping and clawing at the man that had ruined his sad little life. Overwhelmed by pleasure, Cam could not stop himself from crying out, crying out the name of the one that destroyed him.

“Aziel… Aziel, I’m going to come!” Cam panted. He squeezed his legs around Aziel’s toned, strong hips, bracing himself for the coming hard thrusts. It felt like Aziel was trying to break him, digging into him as hard and fast as he could. Cam couldn’t stop himself from spilling over. His body jerked, his member swelled, and he felt the hot spray of his pleasure between their thrusting bodies. In the daze of his high, Cam had never had a better climax.

Aziel’s thrusts became rough and hard. The assassin groaned loudly as he came in Cam, spilling himself deeply inside of him. Cam felt it sear him, burn through him and knock the breath from his gasping lungs.

They lay together in a sweaty heap, Aziel’s breath hot over his ear. Disoriented, Cam put his arms around Aziel’s shoulders. He wanted to say something, say many things… but none of them came out right. Aziel just heard the whisper of his breath and the shudder of his heart.

One more week…

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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