Page 83 of Darkness

Farren stood before Morrisey, cock hard and thrusting against his belly. Unable to resist, he gave his straining length a few quick strokes. Oh! He’d never tire of how fabulous the right contact on an erection felt.

“You’re killing me here!” Morrisey palmed his own cock through his blue jeans. Without any prompting, he pulled his T-shirt up and over his head, kicked off his shoes, then shucked off his jeans in a practiced move. He stepped from the puddled denim, wearing nothing underneath.

How beautiful. Tall, lean, and though not heavily muscled, each one stood out in stark definition. Dark covered Morrisey’s chest, arms, and down his belly, then on to his groin and lower legs. His cock wasn’t as fat as Farren’s, but longer.

Farren’s mouth watered with his need to drop to his knees and taste the drop of fluid leaking from Morrisey’s cock. His fingers itched to touch.

Morrisey reached for him.

“No. I have to show you something first.” Farren never before revealed himself so fully to another. He didn’t do vulnerable. Still, if he wanted his partner's trust... He reached out his hand, stepping in front of a full-length mirror. “Come here. Stand behind me.”

Morrisey leered. “Oh, great idea.” He must have seen the serious look on Farren’s face, for he did as told, wrapping his sturdy arms around Farren.

Those arms felt like what humans called heaven: warm and secure without confining. Unthinking, Farren leaned back into the embrace. He had longed for this moment, to touch and be touched, skin to skin. He didn't rely on humans for sustenance, but he had definitely yearned for physical touch.

No moment to get lost in sensation now. Not with a point to make. “Don’t distract me.” Distract me! I want to stay in your arms forever.

Farren had never actually taken anyone to bed he’d consider a lover. Before doing so, any potential lover needed to know the truth. “I have to concentrate.” Gaze riveted to the reflection of himself and Morrisey, Farren took in the differences. His own skin was light, as opposed to Morrisey’s darker complexion. Farren had been told he had a runner’s build, a physique he’d worked on, overcoming years of drug use and malnutrition from his host.

He willed away the thought of how good they looked together, focusing instead on manipulating the image. How he’d done so before, he’d likely never know, and he’d scared the crap out of himself the first time he’d unexpectantly looked in a mirror to see a ghost of himself.

He met Morrisey’s penetrating stare in the mirror, took a step away, and willed the image into his normal form, a human-shaped body, shining with light. Not exactly how he appeared in his home realm, but close enough. “It’s just an illusion, but I hope you get the idea.” Farren never was good at getting his appearance precisely as before—maybe he’d forgotten nuances of his original face over time—but if Morrisey saw Farren’s face along with Farren’s host’s, he’d know.

Farren spread what the human race called wings.

Morrisey gazed at the mirror, his neutral expression giving away nothing.

Was he shocked? Appalled? He wasn’t running—yet.

Morrisey tilted his head, putting his mouth near enough to brush his warm breath across Farren’s neck, followed by a soft graze of his lips. "When I first laid eyes on you, I thought you were an angel. The more I learn about you, the more convinced I am that you are. You're beautiful, regardless of the form you take.” He spun Farren by the shoulders, bringing their mouths together for a brief connection. “What was your name in the other realm? I think you might’ve told me before.”

Farren hadn’t said his true name much over the last ten years. “Aluxi.”

“That’s beautiful too.”

Mirror illusion forgotten, Farren twined his arms around Morrisey’s neck, pulling him closer. The hardness pressed against Farren’s abdomen spoke of Morrisey’s want.

Want reflected in Farren’s need. So, Morrisey wasn’t someone who thought of a human with a traveler as a “corpse fucker.”

Morrisey skated his lips from Farren’s jaw to neck to chest, stooping before dropping to his knees. He gazed at Farren through dark lashes, desire reflecting in his eyes.

He grinned and licked a swath up the underside of Farren’s cock with a flattened tongue.

“Oh, damn!” Farren pressed his back against the mirror, clutching Morrisey’s shoulders to avoid tipping over. How good! Warm. Wet. Every pull of Morrisey’s mouth sent jolts of electricity through Farren’s groin and shivers over his skin.

Morrisey released a low moan, clutching Farren's ass cheeks in big hands, firmly keeping him still.

Not that Farren planned to move except to rock into each stroke.

Morrisey saw him, truly saw him, and didn’t turn away.

Farren reveled in every moan, groan, and touch of Morrisey’s fingers against his skin. Human bodies seemed to have more nerve endings, more sensory input than Farren’s old one. Then, he’d merely merged with his lover, the two truly becoming one.

For a short time unless they bonded.

How strange to continue as two separate entities. Still, the closeness rivaled anything Farren had in the human world. No, not rivaled. Surpassed.

Farren hungered for Morrisey’s touch on his skin, the swipe of a hot tongue on sensitive places, a finger exploring his ass crack. There came a time when things felt so good, too good, leaving Farren hovering on the edge, knowing how much better things would get.

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