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In Sanguine Veritas

Chapter Text

You don't even want to know what I'm gonna do to you

I don't know which me that I love
Got no reflection

 

 

I walk into the NDRGRND at ten to ten, smile as I smell the familiar mixture of sweat, alcohol, dry ice, pheromones.

I love goth clubs; one of my favourite hunting grounds. Girls dressed in any type of material, as long as it’s black and shows a lot of skin; guys dressed in tight leather and ready to experiment with their sexuality... honestly, they couldn’t be better if I’d been asked to design them.

I’m modestly dressed in black jeans - 501s, they make my arse look good - and a tight black t-shirt under a leather jacket. I get enough attention without tarting up, and I don’t want to look too memorable - my career kind of requires keeping a low profile. Except for my prey for the evening, I don’t want people to think about me too much.

My prey is bound to remember me for a bit, if I do my job right... so that means not returning to the same place too often. Fortunately London is not short of effective hunting grounds – but still, a good goth club is a rare treat.

I catch a flash of many many teeth in the mirror behind the bar - ah. Best tone it down if I want not to be noticed. My grin can be a bit much…

I order a beer and make my way through the crowds to the balcony overlooking the dance floor, taking a spot leaning against a pillar, surveying the smorgasbord laid out before me.

I have my methods. At this time of the night, when it’s still early, I focus on the dancing crowd. I love dancing, and if it doesn’t lead to more; the night is still young.

I take my time assessing the individuals that catch my eye - good moves, good muscles, good looks - is there that little suggestiveness in their dancing that signals they’re up for a good time? Or conversely, are they shy and likely to love being taken by the hand and led towards an interesting experience?

 

I select three candidates before I neck the rest of my beer and make my way down. The strategy is simple - dance with first choice, see if they’re likely. If not - stay a bit if the dancing’s good; otherwise or after move to candidate #2. If they’re in a very good mood, see if we can combine and offer a job-share... which again is more likely in a goth club. And it’s spring; everyone is cheerful... it’s looking like it could be a good night.

I remember to not grin too broadly as I descend the stairs and start dancing my way towards candidate #1, a girl in black spandex with cut-outs in all the right places and long black hair with purple highlights.

 

 

The first time I saw you was a couple of weeks ago. You looked much the same, scanning the crowd, and beginning your hunt. Your skills were impressive... you were holding the hand of a pink-haired girl in a leather bra and little shorts, pulling her to the toilets, and she followed, giggling. When you both emerged about ten minutes later, she rejoined her friends, still giggling. You returned to the balcony to scope the crowd out again - and when you left that evening, it was with a man - spiky platinum blond hair, leather coat and trousers. No laughing for this one, just smirking around the cigarette he lit the moment he exited the club.

The man I left the club with was neither giggling nor smirking when I was done with him...

The second time I saw you was a week ago - different club, same type of clientele. Amused, I watched as you walked through the crowd with your hunter's gaze, your predatory smile. This time, you headed straight to the bar, and let them flutter around you like moths. Yes, you burn more brightly than anyone in this place full of desperation, desire, and broken dollies.

 

I watched as you made your selection - smiling at her as if she were the only one in the world, and leading her to the dance floor. I watched as you danced with her for song after song, and then whispered in her ear. She covered her smile with her hand, stared up at you and nodded. Then you took her hand and led her to the cloakroom to collect her jacket, before escorting her gallantly to a cab. I watched as the car drove off, then turned to see a young woman staring at me in fascination - I smiled shyly, hesitated and waved at her. She laughed and walked up to me, smoking a cigarette. She had sharply bobbed black hair and wore a long red satin dress.

 

"Leaving so soon?" she purred, and took a long drag from her cigarette.

"Oh - y-yes. I can't find my friend," I said sadly.

"I'll be your friend, sweetie," she said, and caressed my face. "Let's get you a drink." Her eyes flickered over me as she stubbed her cigarette against the brick wall and flicked it away. I found myself being pulled firmly back into the club, but my thoughts were of you.

She tasted of smoke, and then she was no more.

This is the third time I've seen you - and it was not even a question that I would see you again. I've had enough of these simpering fools playing at being dark temptresses and children of the night. You do not play at anything - you're a predator, like me - only your prey live to see another day, and mine do not.

It was not even a question that I would see you because I had brought you here - saw you in my mind, and called to you throughout the evening until you appeared. I didn't know your name, but I didn't need it.

The way you had moved through the crowd was like a predatory cat, so I called you 'Tiger.... *Tiger*...' and you came stalking in, with your sharp eyes and sharp smile.

 

I watch with pleasure as you scan the crowd and make your selections for the evening. The girl you're dancing with is tossing her black and purple hair at you, and I roll my eyes. ‘Nice try, girlie,’ I think. ‘But you don't stand a chance...’

I walk towards you, stumble, and fall against her. We both land in a heap, and she stares at me, outraged.

"I am *so sorry*..." I exclaim, looking horrified. "Someone must have spilled - the floor was wet-" I get up and try to help her, but she stands and pushes me away.

I look back and forth between you, aghast. "So sorry!" I say and head to the bar, hiding a smile behind my hand. I order a drink, stare down at it forlornly, and wait.

 

 

First choice is giving off definite interested vibes, when -

Oh hello - where did you come from?

My dance partner is pulled down into a tumble by a smallish guy, dressed all in black, but not to impress - simple, though good-quality, trousers and t-shirt and blazer; he could fade in the background in a place like this, where most people are dressed to be seen and admired.

Though I would still have noticed him, so he must have just walked onto the floor - no way I would have missed a guy screaming ‘I’m lonely and awkward and have no idea how hot I am’ so loudly.

My dance partner is rude and he walks off with his tail between his legs, orders a drink - oh god a Red Witch?! - and looks at it like he’s deeply regretting his choice to come out tonight.

Candidacy for first choice has definitely shifted away from purply-locks. I love love love shy gay boys - seeing them blush, hearing them gasp in wonder and delight... I bet those pale cheeks would flush so delightfully...

The song is ending and I tell my dance partner that I’m taking a break and getting myself a drink. I don’t offer her one - I realize it is rude, but I don’t want her to wait or worse, join me; and even if I don’t get in with Shy Gay Boy - which seems unlikely - I’ve kind of lost interest in her after her brusque treatment of him, so she’s better off waving her locks at someone else.

Through fortunate chance, the best place to get to the bar is right next to Shy Gay Boy. I nudge in, smile at him, and turn to the barman to order a pint of lager. After the order, I look back to my right - he’s smiling at me.

I’m in.

 

 

I can't look back to see what's happening... but I feel your eyes on me. I also feel female fury and flouncing. (Relax, sweetie... or I'll come back to bite you later. This one is *not* for you...)

I feel you approaching... I feel your intrigue... and then you're sitting next to me. Smiling at me.

So beautiful...

You order a pint, and I smile at you shyly, before looking away. I throw back some of my drink, and make an alarmed face. I swallow carefully, before coughing and sputtering.

"Oh *god*," I mutter, and put my glass down.

 

 

I take a sip, thinking of the best approach, when a beautiful opportunity presents itself - Shy Gay Boy fumbles having a sip of his drink. Could he *be* any cuter?!

I put on a concerned face, rather than a look most people would reserve for kittens and puppies - no need to be rude - and speak the immortal pickup line “You alright there, mate?”

 

 

My eyes widen.

"M'fine," I say hoarsely. I cough again behind my hand. "This drink... sounds so cool to order, but it's *wretched*... I'm - an idiot," I finish, smiling sheepishly.

I push the glass away from me, and look back to see you're staring at me as if you want to devour me. Hesitantly I stare back, then hunch my shoulders slightly and look away.

 

 

A Red Witch is wretched? What - the vile sweetness of it or the alcohol content? Looking at him, I’m pretty sure it’s the latter - oh god, how old are you, my pretty boy? Is this your first time out on your own? You better watch out, there are dangerous people about... best stick close to me, so I can look after you... very close to me...

“Yeah, I don’t like them either,” I smile. “Too sweet and too strong. Can I get you anything else to get the taste out of your mouth?”

 

 

My mouth drops open. “What??” My eyes widen at your amused expression, and I have to fight to not smirk back. “*Ohhh*... you mean a drink!” I cover my face, horrified. “You’re so lovely... yes, please,” I mumble from behind my hands. I peek out at you, and cover my face again. “I really am an idiot. I’ll have a rum and coke, please...”

I had considered for some time which persona to use with this beautiful, strapping man... given your expression, you find me *adorable*. I congratulate myself smugly... Yes, there *is* something you can give me to get the taste out of my mouth... and afterwards, darling - your blood is *mine*.

 

 

Oh. My. God.

Please stop being so incredibly adorable or I won’t be able to refrain from grabbing you and squishing you or eating you up.

Where did you come from?! Some provincial town; first time in the city? A protective set of parents who can’t know you’re gay? Whatever, we’ll talk about that later, when recovering between orgasms... I just thank my lucky stars that you chose this club to walk into tonight... don’t worry, you won’t regret it... I’ll treat you so very well...

I order a rum and coke and do my best not to look too amused or delighted - a gentle touch with this delicate flower. Just be friendly, casual, non-threatening, but with just a touch of tough-guy-who-knows-his-way-around, and he’ll be eating out of my hand.

Or... other areas...

Right Seb. Focus. You have the prey in your sights, but could still lose him - use your charms.

“Is it your first time here?”

Not the most original line, but one that makes sense after his exploits so far. As I turn towards him, my knee just casually touches his.

 

 

My rum and coke arrives, and I sip it awkwardly.

I look up at you through my eyelashes. I've only observed you from a distance before, and you're even more stunning up close. So tall and muscular, *god* - it's like you were tailor-made for me. Eyes so blue, gazing at me like I'm the sweetest thing on earth. I can see why you do *so well* at this; you have a way of making the person you're with feel so desirable and sexy and special... Your smile is warm and irresistible, and it's making it *so easy* to embody this persona... I *want* to be this person for one night. I want you to buy me drinks, and be all soothing and seductive, and touch me gently - at first. And then not so gently...

I'm not old enough that I've forgotten my human life - I was a criminal and a psychopath, and my life was one of violence and cruelty. And now my unlife is one of violence and cruelty... for eternity. But there's something about you, darling - somehow, in such a short time, you've made me recall what it was like to be innocent and longing for a big, strong man to protect me. Like I never had...

For one night, I think you could give me that... to take with me into the endless cold nights on my own. And I could be this sweet, blushing man for you... I could give you that for your last night on earth, my darling.

"N-no, I've been here a few times... I've actually seen you before," I confess, smiling into my drink. "But you were always - with someone..." I trail off. I look down at your knee touching mine, and bite my lip. I look back at you, with longing in my eyes.

 

 

You look miles away for a second - and then come back to earth with a smile.

You’ve been here before?! How did I not see you?!

I must revise my system. No just looking at the dance floor. Hidden diamonds like this must not be missed. Thank goodness you went stumbling around the floor for some reason earlier.

And you - noticed me when I was here? Last time must have been... six weeks ago? And you remember me...

You look up at me biting your lip and with clear desire in those black eyes and I’m done for. I must have you. And I’m yours, tonight, for anything you could desire; I’ll show you undreamed-of heights my sweet shy darling; I’ll make you moan and gasp and cry out with delight; it will be a night you’ll remember for decennia to come with a smile on your lips...

“You’ve seen me before? I can’t believe I didn’t spot you... you look so different from the rest of the people here, there’s something about you... something unique.”

I expect my own eyes are blazing with desire now; I tell them to cool it - don’t be too intense, play it calm, don’t scare him off... if you ruin this, Sebastian, I’m never taking you out again.

 

 

You seem shocked that you never noticed me... but no one sees me if I don't want to be seen.

"I'm used to not being noticed..." I say softly. "I'm not - really one of them," I gesture at the dance floor. "But it feels safe being here, and I like the music, and -" I lean in towards you and murmur, "once in a while I see someone attractive and... I imagine what it would be like to talk with him and dance with him and -" I hesitate, "kiss him... and just for that night, I would feel not alone..."

Whoa there, Jimmy... that's cutting awfully close to the truth. Why are you telling him all this??

I sip my rum and coke, feeling strangely flustered. I should *not* have chosen this persona, it's too easy to sink into it too deeply... but it's too late now to go all seductive lone wolf instead, so just ride this out until you can get him alone... and then take him and drink him and be done with it!

"I'm sorry, I'm saying too much..." I give you a tremulous smile. "I always do that. I should just go and not talk your ear off. Thank you for the drink, you've been very kind..."

I squeeze your hand and let it linger on yours for a moment - my skin will feel cool to you, but it never seems to trouble anyone...

I feel a current run through us, and there's a flare of desire in your eyes. What the fuck? That is *not* what normally happens... I stare at you in a daze.

 

 

Your words send whirlwinds of emotions through me. Protectiveness - warmth - possessiveness - desire - solicitousness -

and then your hand touches me and a spike of electricity shoots through me. I'd read that phrase; thought it was metaphorical - but there's actually a current running from my hand to my - heart, my stomach, my - groin -

I'm frozen to the spot; my mind going blank. All I can see are your eyes - those big black eyes; and I must look like a deer in headlights - I swear I am more suave than this usually. Fortunately you're looking at me much the same.

Good grief, Sebastian, get yourself together. You're the tough guy who knows his way around, remember?

I try to move my hand, but my arm has forgotten it's supposed to listen to my brain. It's motionless, the muscles not responding.

Your eyes are getting bigger - I appear to be moving my head closer to yours. I had thought about doing that when you talked about maybe kissing someone attractive, but I wasn't aware that I had decided that that particular course of action was to be undertaken.

Honestly; I am normally more in control than this. But kissing you does seem like a very tempting prospect... very tempting indeed... and it's clear that you want it... so let me cross those last millimetres, which seem such vast distances to traject, but then my lips touch yours - so smooth, so cold from the rum and coke –

 

 

It's not like it was a spark of electricity - it's a current that's still flowing between us, making me feel plugged into something at a much higher voltage. You're as affected as me - you're staring into my eyes, and you seem frozen on the spot. Until you're not - until you're moving closer to me, your hand still under mine... what are you - *Oh*...

It's not like I've never kissed before. It's all part of the game. Just as it had been when I was a lowly human. Although I had usually kissed under the guise of a persona - or if it was as myself, it was always strategic, always about domination...

But when I feel your lips on mine, I was still focused on the current so I wasn't thinking of my persona and I wasn't expecting a kiss. So I feel the strangest sensation of being kissed as though for the first time... my fingers tighten around your hand, and I find myself moving my lips against yours. My tongue runs over your lips, seeking entry - before I remember I was supposed to be shy and reticent. Fuck. Whatever. Keep kissing me or I'll rip your throat out. Wait, no - bad vampire. That's Hunger talking... I sigh, feeling the hunger unspool through me. *Soon enough*, darling... but I have a *feeling* about this one... he's making me feel not alone tonight, and I'm not ready for this to be over - not yet.

Just a little longer...

Kiss me, sweet thing...

 

 

Your fingers tighten on mine, and I'm afraid you will shy away - but no, your lips move to better fit against mine, and then your tongue comes out - oh -

Oh my sweet boy... such guileless innocence, moving into a kiss that reflects your hunger, the longing to kiss a handsome man finally fulfilled; not holding back, letting your eagerness show...

I simultaneously melt and am fired up; I want to pull you close and stroke you softly and whisper sweet nothings and lie under the stars holding you all night, speaking of life and the universe and love and death... and I want to throw you over this bar stool, tear your trousers down, and fuck you into oblivion... and I want to keep kissing you forever, feel your tongue explore mine and find that they are a perfect match; feel your fingers hold my hand like they're never going to let go, so cold - nerves?

Don't be nervous, my sweet, my prince, my gorgeous boy, I will be so good to you...

My free hand makes its way up to your shoulder, holds you, strokes your neck, your hair... so soft and silky, I long to bury my nose in the dark mysteries hidden there...

Wow, Sebastian. This is not like you. If you're not careful, you might actually fall...

 

 

I feel your tongue against mine, and I make a soft sound of longing in my throat. Hunger is rising up in me, making me want to drag you off the stool, across the floor and into a dark alley - so I can fuck you and then feed. Mostly I just feed off my prey - but for you, oh *yes* darling, I’ll make an exception...

Only - it’s not time just yet to throw off the persona like a heavy cloak. That will come - but for now, I need it to get you to a private place. I don’t *want* to have you in an alley... there’s something about you that makes me want to slow down and take my time... I'll need a bed for you, or if we can't make it that far, a sofa or a floor will do...

And for some reason, my sweet, shy persona is clicking with you so fully, it’s triggering *feelings* in me... making me remember what it was like to be young and vulnerable... I don’t know why on this godforsaken earth I would be thinking of these things now... but I can’t allow them to take hold. I’m Jim fucking Moriarty - I was a psychopathic monster *before* I became immortal. And no human, no matter how hot and tall and - muscular and - blue-eyed - where was I going with this... Yes, *no human* is going to make me feel something I don't want to feel...

Time to get back in the game, Jimmy...

I allow my persona to settle over me, and immediately feel swept away by your lips on mine. I want to devour you, tear your clothes from you, feel your skin against mine... (*nonono*, Jimmy, let him chase *you*... I like how he hunts... I *want* him to hunt me...)

I break away from the kiss and make a show of trying to catch my breath. I gaze up at you through half-closed eyes.

"Oh," I breathe. "*Oh*..."

I realize my hand is gripping your leather jacket, and I'm practically in your lap.

"So that's what I've been missing out on..." I murmur. And I realize as I look up at you, if my heart could beat, it would be pounding.

 

 

You're standing between my legs, so close... You're holding on to my jacket like you're afraid I'll run, or you might fall. Don't worry, my sweet prince, I won't let you drop...

The music is too loud. People are jostling us trying to get to the bar. I need to get you out of here, out of these crowds of selfish people not understanding the precious precarious beauty of what is happening here. You're looking at me like I am the only one in the room, and I must be looking the same. You vocalize your thoughts as clearly as they are written on your face, you beauty, you precious, you marvellous gemstone.

"I'd like to show you more of what you've been missing out on... if you like," I say, my mouth close to your ear.

"Shall we - go somewhere a bit less crowded and noisy?"

I hope you have a place. I never take people back to my place - I just can't. But I won't just grope you behind the bins. You're too fine for such coarse surroundings - you deserve a bed, soft sheets, sweet music in the background, gentle lighting, as we explore each other's bodies, find the sensitive spots that cause gasps, caress the...

Right, Sebastian Moran, stop that right now. You already have a nice semi going there. Keep it classy. If he doesn't have a place, get a hotel. A nice one.

 

 

We’re both being bumped into, and it feels like we’re at the centre of a wheel of chaos and abrasive noise - the eye of the storm holds us, keeps us physically close. The current is less overt now, but it still feels like there’s an intense charge between us.

When you ask me to go someplace private with you, I feel a burst of triumph.

“I’m staying in a friend’s flat, but I have the place to myself this month - if you’d like to... c-come home with me?” I say in a jumble, and then look at the floor shyly. You smile down at me and I want to melt into the floor. (Seriously, Jim? *Vampire*, I remind myself. Soulless fiend.... creature of the night!)

“Sounds perfect,” you breathe, and extend your hand to me. I take it, and you start to lead me through the crowd in the direction of the doors.

I smile as I imagine us spread out on the huge bed in the furnished apartment I’ve rented this month, tasting each other’s bodies. I picture you fucking me - rough and sweet... I see myself biting into your neck, drinking the blood that I can scent from here, like warm nectar pulsing through you. And then I picture you still and lifeless on the floor.

I stop and pull on your hand. You turn and look back at a me, questioningly.

I feel frozen in this moment - if I move forward, you die. I’m not ready for that outcome to materialize - if I don’t move forward, it’s almost like it doesn’t have to happen... So I pull you back towards me, and I lean up to murmur in your ear. You bend down, your arm sliding around me.

“There’s something else I dreamed of doing... I wonder...?” I falter. “I used to imagine being one of those people on the dance floor, dancing with a beautiful man... I know, it’s silly-“ I bury my head in your shoulder, all self-consciousness and nerves. “But - would you -“ I ask in a low voice, “with me?”

 

 

Yes. Yes. Yes yes yes yes yes this is happening. The cutest boy I've seen in... well ever is taking me to his friend's flat. Asked me to c-come home with him, with a stutter. I'm just about melted into a puddle. Oh god my little prince...

I'm all eagerness to get out, have you alone, cuddle in the back of a taxi, when you stop - oh shit - changed your mind!? Impossible - what-

Oh.

Oh my god.

Oh Sebastian you heartless plonker. You sex-crazed swine. You cultureless oaf.

Have you never heard of wooing!? Here you are ready to drag the poor boy to a night of depravity when he is dreaming of dancing with a beautiful man... god knows how long he's been longing for someone to kiss him, hold him, dance with him, tell him he's pretty and interesting and lovely; and all you can think of is getting him into bed. And here he is looking ashamed of asking it, of halting you in your haste to devour his innocence, like it's a shameful thing to want...

I could kick myself. I'm so sorry, my pretty prince...

"I am so sorry," I actually vocalize. Really? Don't ever apologize, remember? Don't let people see you're fallible? Oh, fuck that.

"I was so keen to get you alone - in a quiet environment, so we could talk without shouting, and kiss without people banging into us - and I completely forgot the nice things a place like this has to offer. I love dancing, I really do - and it would be such an honour for me to dance with the most beautiful person in the room.

Please -"

I move back towards the dance floor, holding my hand out to you. You take it, smiling timidly, happily - oh my god.

Sebastian Patrick Moran. Stop thinking with your cock and make this boy happy. Give him the best night he can imagine, the night he's always dreamed of, when he was alone in his room. Show him how exquisite he is, how gorgeous, how much you cherish his company. Don't rush it. The night is still young, and full of possibilities. Offer them all to him, on a silver platter, let him take his pick, let him savour each and every moment. Your mission, soldier, is to give this boy the best night of his life, starting now.

We reach a spot where there is enough space for two bodies (barely) and I start moving to the beat.

 

 

We arrive on the dance floor, and it feels like we've moved onto a stage, like we have a spotlight on us that only we can see. For a moment it feels like there are no pretences, like you can really see me - but you can't, can you? Well, you're not attacking me or running away... So I'm guessing all you see is sweet Jim... I look up at you with your blue eyes staring at me, and I hear the opening notes of the song begin - a Marilyn Manson song. I feel the music wash over me, and my scalp tingles. I shiver as you start to move - you're graceful like a muscular predatory cat. I watch in awe - your body is beautiful in motion. I shake myself out of my reverie, and move to the beat - I have to be careful not to do anything preternatural... or suddenly become *too* confident - but as I was in life, I am a stunningly good dancer. And I do not hold that back for *anyone*...

 

Crushing, cheating, changing

Am I deaf or dead?

Is this constricting construction

Or just streets with rusty signs

Of something violent coming?

Wellll, not the most seductive song... but we both seem to be listening to the lyrics, and at the mention of *something violent coming*, suddenly the air between us gets super-charged. I feel my eyes flash, and I dance back from you. I look up to the ceiling, moving my head side to side like a serpent. I turn and slowly spiral my hips, then look back over my shoulder.

This'll hurt you worse than me

I'm weak, seven days a week

Don't run from me I won't

Bother counting one, two, three

By 'don't run' I've whipped around,

By 'one' I've begun stalking towards you

By 'three' I've reached you, and slid my arms around your neck

I gaze up at you, and let my hips sway to the pounding beat. Grinning nervously, I lightly brush my pelvis against yours.

 

 

Bloody hell. This boy got moves. And your eyes - they seem to change; like the music sparks something inside you, is taking over, and like in some kind of fairy tale where the protagonist suddenly discovers they’ve had super powers all along, they emerge under Mr Manson’s evocative tones.

Where did you learn to dance like that, my mystery boy? Did you practice your moves in front of a mirror, dreaming of the day when you’d get to show them off on the dance floor with some sexy guy you wanted to seduce? Did you have classes, not the boring ballroom dancing I was forced to learn, but more exciting ones like modern ballet or something?

The sexual tension between us is palpable; the air is charged with sparks, with sweet scent. The club around us has dropped away; you and I are dancing in a vacuum, the other people merely scenery, as inconsequential as projections onto a black canvas. You look at me with those piercing black eyes and step towards me and for a brief second I feel like I am the prey, being stalked, and then your arms are around me and I’ve been captured, helpless, and very willingly so -

but then I see your grin, boyish, apprehensive; and you are my sweet shy prince again, having his very first dance with his knight in shining armour, looking like he can’t quite believe what is happening.

Your moves are quite the opposite of shy, though. Belying the trepidation on your face, your hips sway forward and your pelvic region makes contact with mine and... oh, god.

Again I need to remind myself to calm down, take it slow, as a shock travels from my groin up through my torso and short-circuits my brain. Your face looks timorous, like you’re afraid you may have gone too far, but your hips have a courage of their own and enchant me with their movements. I’m only momentarily frozen - I love a dance that is its own foreplay... I let my hands rest on your lower back as my hips reply to yours, expressing their appreciation for this new acquaintance.

The temperature has shot up to nigh incandescent, the music pours down over, onto, and around us like thick, sweet, black syrup; we’re stirring our waves, sending ripples out to the edge of the night...

I’m lost in your eyes, your arms, your hips, your touch...

You don't even want to know what I'm gonna do to you

You don't even want to know what I'm gonna do to you

You don't even want to know what I'm gonna do to you...

 

 

If there was even the slightest chance that I would not have you tonight, it has utterly incinerated - the space between us is charged with mounting heat and crackling electricity.

There's a sense of intimacy and facade ebbing and flowing,

bathing us in fascination...

As the lyrics melt hypnotically into a warning chant, we slow down -

our hips continue to murmur and seduce...

our gazes stay locked onto each other...

our arms slide down each other's bodies...

It feels like the club has melted away and we're facing each other out in the wild, under a blood moon and a jet-black sky full of burning stars.

I grasp your back, and lean back towards the floor. When I rear back up, I'm an undulating serpent with my prey in my sights. The hunger is rising in me, and I shove it back with all my strength. I feel it sink back into me like a receding tide, and I shiver.

I don't know which me that I love

Got no reflection

I don't know which me that I love

Got no reflection

 

I look up at you, worried for a moment that I've scared you off. But you're staring at me with blazing desire, and my eyes widen as my own longing floods through me. Intoxicated, my hands move slowly up your muscular back. I think of your body pressed against mine, hard and hot and naked. A purring sound rises from my throat, and my fingers dig into your back through your shirt.

 

In a daze, I realize the song has ground to a halt and we're standing in silence with our hands on each other.

I blink at you...

My lips part...

The next song begins.

 

 

You bend back smoothly and when you rise again your eyes transfix me. I have trouble thinking of anything, focussing on anything but you.

When I do this, the clubbing, the picking up people, often, not all the time, but quite regularly, I am genuinely fascinated by the person I've selected. Their smell, the way their hair waves, their muscular arms, shining eyes - I don't fake it when I shower them with interest and attention. At that moment they actually are beautiful, enchanting, charming, captivating, and I want to know them, touch them, experience them closely.

This usually fades after orgasm, though I'm an attentive lover, and I always make sure my partner has had an enjoyable experience. If it was particularly good, the interest might be revived for a second round, but that's it - my attraction is gone after that. I can't have a relationship in my line of work anyway; but I've never been tempted - I don't get why people would go back for something they've already had when there's so much else to experience.

I don't think I've ever been so spellbound as this, though. There genuinely is nothing else in the world than those black eyes, those hip movements that would have got Elvis arrested, those hands touching me, claiming me.

You're so mesmerizing... your shy little smile, slight nervous stutter, clumsiness make me want to whisk you away from this city; away from its gaping mouth that crushes the unwary between its shiny teeth, spitting them out sucked dry, grey, hollow-eyed; but then there's the other side of you coming out in this dance, a more assertive side, a side that knows how to move, how to enchant, how to fascinate, like a cobra entrancing its prey. Your frame is slight, but your moves show confident muscles - again I wonder if you've had dance training. I can't wait to feel those muscles move against me, with me... around me...

Oh god.

The next song starts with riffing guitars, a pleasant rhythm, and our bodies move, accommodating each other like we've been doing this for years... and haven't we? Was there ever a time when I was not on this dark floor, holding your smoothly moving body, spinning you further and further into my web - or am I the one being spun? Or are we both; winding our silk threads around each other; threads of destiny as old as time?

Fuck - Seb - keep your head, could you?

Would you give me the key to the empire of bliss

Gimme a substance to dismiss

Everybody's searching for a difference

Everybody 's searching for deliverance

Gimme just another reason to live

Things you can resist

Things you cannot

They're just framed in blood

 

 

Time to be sweet Jim again... and let you take the lead...

Would you give me redemption in your kiss

Gimme something that I already miss

As I sway with you, I stare at your lips through half-closed eyes... as if I'm too nervous to kiss you.

I already came close to breaking free of my own control... I have to be more careful.

Although there appears to have been no damage... if anything, you seem more mesmerized than ever...

Good...

*Very* good...

That means you sensed danger, and you have a *taste* for it... you'll be less easily spooked as we get closer to the moment of truth.

Not that it's not *fun* to see fear and panic in my victim's faces, but... they're such *common* reactions. It's far more rare to see enticement, fascination, even desire... and the victims whose death drive is a siren song that lures them into my arms, are infinitely more appealing to me.

And you, my sweet, *you* are staring at me like you've seen the face of god... I could just eat you up... and I *will*...

But why haven't you kissed me again? I feel a slight pout forming, and I allow it to the surface.

I move in closer, and slide my body against yours.

 

Things you can resist

Things you cannot

They're just framed in blood

 

I lean in and move my lips over your cheek. I murmur into your ear, "Don't you... want to kiss me again?"

 

 

What? Oh - no -

Oh my sweet prince, I'm so sorry - I got distracted - again -

What the fuck is wrong with me tonight!? It's a wonder you're still here...

I was just - dancing - looking into your eyes - and somehow most of the song has passed, and I am not sure what I did, except dance - and look into your eyes -

so dark, so deep, so enthralling...

what?

Damn it, Sebastian, stop getting sidetracked! I'm not even sure how I'm getting sidetracked - it's like you're distracting me from yourself.

Focus, soldier. For fuck's sake.

Dark eyes - look beyond the dark eyes - a slight pout - lips, longing for mine, actually verbally asking where my lips are, feeling bereft, denied the attention that is rightfully theirs -

"I would like nothing more."

Bending down, in the flow of the song still, both of us moving in synchronicity, like the music is a frame in which the story goes forward, the story of our existence inseparable from the rhythm of the music, which had no beginning, which is never ending...

lips touch lips and time is irrelevant.

 

 

I feel your lips on mine, and everything fades except you and me. Your tongue is gentle, searching... I allow you entrance into my mouth, and my tongue slides over yours.

As the kiss continues, it deepens and your breathing grows heavier. I adjust mine to match yours.

I don't think I can hold myself back for much longer... I'm in the unfamiliar territory of not *wanting* to leave my victim dead, but how can I deny myself after *all this*??

I moan into your mouth. We break apart, and our faces remain close - we stare at each other, breathing hard. I'm clinging to you, my fingers grasping your jacket. I exhale slowly.

"I think-" I falter, and lick my lips. "I'm ready for you to show me... what else I've been missing."

 

 

Your mouth is the sweetest thing I've ever tasted.

The next song comes on -

I'm not the one who's so far away

When I feel the snake bite enter my veins

Enchanting, entrancing, primal. Our bodies moving slightly, rhythmically, as our tongues taste each other, explore. I'm sinking deeper into this sweet dark bliss... you are filling my consciousness, my senses; it's hard to think - something is odd about your kiss, but I can't say what it is, except that it's ecstatic and I want it to last forever...

A moan in my mouth and I come undone. You need me as much as I need you - I stare at you and you stare at me, your dark eyes dizzying me, our breaths coming hard -

Never did want to be here again

And I don't remember why I came

You speak and - yes - we could dance forever, but we already have been dancing forever, and there are so many more things we need to do - I think I groan when your lick your lips, and your - words - oh god - oh yes - take me home, my beautiful prince, and let me show you everything you could possibly ever have missed, let me make you moan, groan, cry out, over and over again, until the dawn and beyond...

"Let's go, then..." I manage to say. I don't think my voice is above a whisper, but you appear to have heard me, nod, and take my hand as I hold it out to you and lead you toward the exit.

Voodoo, voodoo, voodoo, voodoo,

Voodoo, voodoo, voodoo, voodoo

 

 

I like you holding out your hand...

I like you leading me through the crowd... you have a protective posture, an air of 'no one's ever going to hurt you as long as I have anything to say about it', which is *so endearing*... you look back and I smile shyly and squeeze your hand.

And then we're through the doors and out into the night air, and the full moon is shining down on us, and I *can't help myself* - I've tried so hard to be good, but I push you against a brick wall and hold you there. Then I giggle nervously - "I'm *so* not normally like this! S-sorry to get all aggro, I don't know what's coming over me..." My lips quirk at the double entendre. You can think it's unintentional if you wish, I just want you to have that image in your mind as we make our way to my temporary residence.

I press my pelvis against yours slightly. "No, I do know... it's you. And I don't even know your name..." I whisper, and look up at you through my lashes.

 

 

Oh wow, the moon is full... of course; like it could be anything else tonight...

and all of a sudden I am with my back against the wall and two hungry eyes are staring into mine - darkness boring into me, taking my breath for a second, and then you’re giggling and apologizing and you’re all young and cute again, but you move against me in a way that is not innocent at all...

Oh my sweet paradoxical prince; am I confusing you? Making you do things you wouldn’t normally dare? I can’t wait to see what you’ll dare do when we’re alone...

“My name is Sebastian,” I whisper back, not even considering an alias. It’s a common enough name, and if you’re going to be moaning any name tonight, I want it to be my own.

I caress your black hair, shining in the moonlight; god you’re even more beautiful than I thought....

“What’s yours?”

 

 

I hesitate. Why don't I want you to know my name?

The end result is the same: you - dead. Who cares if you know who killed you? But strangely I find myself not wanting you to associate anything negative with me, which makes no *fucking sense*...

"Richard..." I hear myself say, shyly. Ok... fine. So *Richard* will be the monster who drains you dry.

I've used this alias and persona before... *’Twill serve*.

"The place where I'm staying is just a five minute walk from here..." I murmur, and regretfully peel myself off you. "I'm - looking forward to being with you somewhere private... Sebastian." I beam at you, and reach out my hand.

 

 

"Richard..." I smile, tasting the name in my mouth, liking the feel of it.

We walk the short distance to the Camden apartment building hand in hand. There are still people on the street even at midnight, and I find myself wanting them to look at us, to see us walking together, to admire the beauty of my conquest, the one who will be mine all night, my Richard... fucking look at him and weep, commoners... but bloody typical Londoners all pretend we don't exist.

In the lift it's my turn to push you against the wall and kiss you deeply against the graffiti telling us that Ana and Raoul will be together 4eva - a lift no longer seems an odd place to declare eternal love, I wish I could feel like that sometimes, it must be nice to love so brightly that you want to declare it to the world... I briefly imagine Sebastian and Richard 4eva, it wouldn't be weird, it might stand a better chance than Ana and Raoul; I don't fall in love, or at least not for more than one night, Richard, I'm so sorry, but fuck, I'm falling for you this night, I will worship you with every fibre of my being, I will wrench every ounce of joy from this night and give it to you, I will make you weep with joy, I promise you that, Richard, you will remember me 4eva...

The lift dings on the 13th floor.

 

 

Hearing that name on your lips... my eyes close briefly. I can almost believe I am him... that persona I have built around a kernel of truth, a seed of light which never had the chance to grow. Richard is good. Maybe I could have been good... maybe. I’ll never fucking know, will I.

Not now...

But as you push me against the wall in the lift, I find myself wanting to *be* him for you, wanting to be good - even just for one night under a full moon, with you, the beautiful man who showed me what it *feels* like to be desired, and adored.

Because as you kiss me, it seems like you *adore* me as Richard, and I don’t know how you can feel this way so suddenly, so soon, but I *believe* you do -

And when I hear the ding, and the lift opens, I drag you out into the hall. I walk backwards with you, still kissing you. I break away from your mouth, and continue to move back pulling you by both hands, smiling at you with lips swollen with your kisses, and shining eyes locked onto yours.

I bump into the door as you go to kiss me again, and I fish my key out of the pocket of my trousers. “Wait - “ I laugh, just barely evading your lips. “Just let me -“

I keep stabbing at the lock with the key and missing as you‘re kissing my neck.

“Oh,” I breathe. “*Sebastian*...”

 

 

I'm vaguely aware of a structure around us, a strong smell of weed, dull throbs of house music coming from behind a door we pass, your lips on and off mine, your smile, your teeth shining in the dull grey cheap light; and you stop at a door, which must be your door, the door to our paradise for one night; god bless this door, behind which the world is ours alone, for as long as we want... Oh god Richard; you beautiful enchanting prince, you're out of place in this hallway with its grey industrial carpet and grubby walls, you should be in a palace in an enchanted forest, with me the courageous knight come to slay whatever obstacles lie in the way to find you, until finally we are alone in your tower chamber under the full moon, and you sigh that you will be mine forever...

4eva...

Fuck off Sebastian - just don't go there.

Enjoy what you have; and if what you have is a raven-haired ivory-skinned ruby-lipped fairy-tale prince, so much the better...

The obstacle in the way appears to be a door; you're struggling with the lock, which might be because your courageous knight keeps blocking your view, but you taste so incredibly good...

And then miraculously the lock clicks, the door opens, we tumble through, you pull the key out and push it shut behind us -

Alone...

Finally…