Consummation Written: June 3, 2003 For Mcee, who asked for something scary. This is what my little mind came up with. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ There was a word in Dom’s mind, one that hovered somewhere just out of reach behind his thoughts whenever he looked at Elijah’s face. A word that came and went before he could ever grasp it, and left him only the more curious, all the more drawn to discover what was eluding him. Drawing him, since the very first, his entire being pulled and lured and whispered to in a language that both warmed and chilled him. But then the thought passed, and left him with the only word that would stay linked with Elijah, as fixed and permanent in Dom’s thoughts as Elijah was himself. Angel. The truth of the matter was, Elijah did look like an angel. Everyone said so. Even Dom. But it was only here, in the darkness of his bedroom, with all the world reduced to white glow and black shadows along the unfocused paths between awake and asleep, that Dom could admit to himself that he might actually believe it. His brow creased and his mouth went slack as he twitched and fluttered and gave himself over to his dreams. Dreams of his angel. Dreams of Elijah. Elijah, as oblivious to his own radiance as he was to its ever-increasing hold over Dom. His skin of pure Carrera, illuminated in the back porch light as he lit up a smoke and Dom balled his hands into fists to keep them from reaching for its brilliance. One touch was all he wanted. Just to check. Just to see if his hand would close on soft flesh, or if Elijah would simply pass through his fingers like warm white smoke. The ageless magnitude of the beauty in his eyes, stained crystal portals to a realm Dominic had never visited and desperately longed to be lost in. And sometimes, only sometimes, when he let his fascination get the better of him, he could almost think he saw the rustle of wings as Elijah rose to his feet, and his head would whip round to find only plain old Lij standing there with one hand scratching his thick tangles and his voice rasping around his cigarette, "The fuck you looking at?" And oh, even then his voice was like the choirs of the unseen. Dom could never settle on the right word -- ethereal, otherworldly, sublime, none of them seemed to do justice. All he knew was that looking at Elijah was like staring into a pale sun, and he could feel himself going blind even as it burned him. So much I’d give you, if you wanted it... He knew he was obsessed, knew it as surely as he knew that Elijah was blissfully unaware of the thrall he cast with his very existence. He kept his hold during the day, kept his coiling need contained beneath a shell of weakening control. But at night -- here, as he dreamed and sweated in the close humidity of the night air -- at night he opened and exposed and bathed himself in the force of his desire, so strong it made his breath hitch and his hands twist in the folds of knotted sheet. So much I’d give you The wind was whispering in the thick heat of the room, sighing like hushed voices over the distant roll of thunder. It swirled and mingled with the haze of his half-dream, breathing across his flesh and raising goosebumps as it trailed up his body and whispered into the shell of his ear. angel my angel my Dom— He jerked awake with a gasp, staring wildly into the shadows, face stark in a sudden flash of lightening. His heart pounded in his chest as the last of the whisper sighed across the back of his neck. The last trace of his dream echoing, he thought he had almost heard— "Dom." And in the corner of the darkened room he saw him, saw him standing still and dim and nearly transparent in the hazy shimmer from the window. He blinked his eyes to clear them of this lingering apparition of sleep, but a second flash of lightening glinted off pale skin and dimly-bright blue eyes. And Elijah began to walk towards him. I’m still dreaming. He raised himself onto his elbows and stared in groggy confusion. "Elijah?" Elijah stepped to the side of the bed, slow and smooth as he gazed down into Dom’s squinting face. He smiled and caught Dom with his eyes, blinking slow and heavy. Dom held onto their blue glimmer and groped for a coherent word. "Elijah, what—?" But Elijah had already slipped beneath the sheet and was stretching light and lithe on top of him, smooth and cool in the damp heat of the bed, one finger pressing across Dom’s lips. His breath etched across the skin of Dom’s throat. "You want me, don’t you? I’ve seen you looking at me." Dreaming, still dreaming... The nameless word flickered through Dom’s mind and was gone before he even realized it had passed, and then Elijah’s thigh was easing its way between his and his head fell back, Elijah’s palm cool and soft across his cheek, and the yes that bled from him may have been only a thought, but Elijah seemed to understand. "Dom," he whispered, and it was like the sudden rush of angels’ wings. if you want it Dom gave himself completely to the kiss, eyes rolling back and tongue moving slowly, worshipping, a pilgrim finally entering his shrine. His hands slid across smoothness that his fingertips had long since memorized. Elijah moved slick and sinuous above him, light in his arms, over his skin, pressing and touching like he’d known Dom’s body forever. Dom trembled and moaned and clutched at him, overwhelmed, arching up into the press of his hips, coming rapidly undone in the swirl of blue and white that exploded behind his eyes. He felt himself being drawn like the breath that was whistling in his throat, and he opened and shuddered and lost himself in the roaring in his ears and the pounding of his heart, and cried out as his orgasm was pulled from him with a sudden blinding force. The pulling grew deeper, stronger, the weight on his chest pressing into him and squeezing off his breath. He felt a blackness creeping into the edges of his mind, felt himself growing distant and blurry and a sudden spasm of indistinct fear panged in his heart. Fingers digging like talons into the flesh of his arms, pulling and pulling and he couldn’t breathe anymore and he couldn’t feel his legs and the roaring in his ears was getting louder with every heartbeat. Elijah, you’re hurting me— He opened his eyes. If he had still had the strength left, every muscle in his body would have gone rigid. If he had been able to pull a breath into his lungs, his scream would have been shrill in the shadows around him. Dreaming, dreaming, I’m dreaming pleaseohplease-— Elijah’s eyes glowed back at him, pupils bled white and opaque and utterly inhuman. The wings across his back spread down around them, encircling and cutting off in an ever-tightening shroud. Pale pink lips parted in a slow smile, and the thin purple tongue curled around sharp and jagged teeth. One long inhalation drew in all of Dom’s shuddered breath and white skin flared brilliant in the blur of his fading vision. Seeing his realization, it purred. "I do want it." Somewhere in that moment, through the reeling fragmented terror, came the clear and lucid certainty of exactly what was wanted, what had always been wanted, what was being taken —and being offered — offered freely, even as it was coaxed and pressed out of him with his breath and energy and consciousness, a sudden exchange that stilled his panicked body and locked his gaze unfocused into those flat white eyes. so much I’d give you "Dom..." The voice wrapped round him, warm and lulling in the encroaching void, and his eyes closed as his mouth opened and he pressed upwards with the last of his strength. In the last moment before his mind snapped cleanly into wordless darkness, Dominic at last found the word he had been grasping at for so long, the unknown name for his Elijah. For his angel. Angel. Demon. Incubus. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ home