The Leech & The Whore [4]
Agh I need to remember to update here! This next section contains the worst quality sex scene I have ever written. If you can think of things to change please let me know!
The plan worked for three months which was two months and thirty days longer than either of them had been expecting. A new routine developed, one only slightly more skewed than the last.
If he timed it right, Phoenix could bring someone back to the apartment while Blake was working. If he put seduction-mode into overdrive, he could have the person out and the apartment tidy by the time the leech returned, which would be later than usual since Blake would have spent at least an hour convincing someone that biting really was the in-thing these days. He would pretend the apartment didn’t smell of sex and Phoenix wouldn’t mention the blood that occasionally spilt onto Blake’s collar. A new unspoken agreement arose, one that operated on a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy, something which extended to cover anything either had said during the kitchen incident.
Which didn’t mean neither of them thought about it. Blake was in a foul mood for days after he found an earring under the pillow he had taken to sleeping on and Phoenix was reprimanded by Diana for spacing out at work while trying to finish the sentence Blake had begun.
They stopped buying food out so often, which made little sense since both were back to receiving steady pay, and Blake grudgingly agreed to start helping with things like shopping and heating since it was still cheaper than living out of hostels. He didn’t like talking about it since it made him feel old.
By the time spring had taken control of the city with her green fingers, Phoenix was well-versed in the world of action films although not any more knowledgeable about the underground world Blake had started explaining on the first night. He didn’t mind too much, comforting himself with the assumption that if he asked, Blake would explain whether he really wanted to or not. It was becoming more obvious with every day that Blake was a lot kinder than he liked people to believe, especially when he was sleepy and unguarded. Phoenix found it hard to believe his life had reached the point where he could look at the leech, previously known to him as a being of violence and conflict, and genuinely think of him as a loveable idiot.
If that had been everything, it would have been simple.
Waking up on a bright March morning, Phoenix had to face up to the fact that it was a little more complicated.
Blake’s skin was soft beneath his hand. The leech wouldn’t feel it, of course, since once he was asleep it would take an earthquake to wake him up again. Regardless, Phoenix brushed his fingers down Blake’s side, feeling the soft waves of ribs and then the sharp incline of a hipbone. His hair was equally soft, when Phoenix moved on to pay attention to that, and ran between his fingers like silk. When he was asleep, it was easy to forget that Blake was as bad tempered as a mule. Phoenix allowed himself to press his lips against one pale shoulder before pulling himself out of bed with an unhappy groan.
He wasn’t sure when it had happened. Before, they had accepted that they liked each other’s company and been fantastic at ignoring the fact that Blake was lodging there without asking permission. Now they had accepted that Blake was as much a fixture of the apartment as the television, if not as popular, but hadn’t quite worked themselves up to admitting what happened when they climbed into bed every night.
It could have been worse, Phoenix reflected as he pulled on a suitably dramatic outfit for work. They could have been sleeping together and undermining the whole system. They could have been flirting and making things tense. But Phoenix had been on his best behaviour and Blake made sure to crush every half-hearted remark before it could be taken seriously. It was just that, once they were in bed and drifting off to sleep, Phoenix’s arm would find its way to Blake’s waist and, if it couldn’t quite reach, Blake would shift just slightly to help it out. That was it and nothing more, a silent half-embrace that went unmentioned. Well, that and the small gestures of affection Phoenix would allow himself upon waking, safe in the knowledge that Blake would never know.
He was sure friends did such things. The action itself wasn’t really the problem. If they had laughed it off, it would have been fine. It was the silence that made things complicated. Silence meant they could pretend it hadn’t happened which also meant that there was a reason they didn’t want to admit it.
Phoenix had become good at getting dressed in the dark and it only took a few minutes. He sighed as he brushed out his hair and went to leave the room, putting the thought from his mind so that he could get through the day without feeling guilty.
“Wait.”
The voice was sleepy and muffled by the pillow but was most definitely not just mumbled during dreaming. Phoenix froze, fully expecting a punch or a torrent of abuse.
“Forgot t’say somethin’last night,” Blake mumbled, apparently oblivious of the touches from a moment before.
“Yes?” Phoenix asked, wisely shutting his mouth before he could apologise for something he hadn’t been caught doing.
“I got th’night off t’night.”
“Oh, right. Want me to stay out?”
“Nah. Wanted t’know if you wanted to do somethin’. S’been a fuckin’ long time since we spent a whole night t’gether.”
Phoenix blinked owlishly before a warm smile graced his lips.
“Okay. I’ll see you later.”
“Kay. Bring food.”
By the time Phoenix let himself out of the front door, Blake had started snoring again.
“What do you mean ‘they ran out of Chinese’? They’re a Chinese takeaway.”
Phoenix shrugged and set the tightly wrapped packages from the chip shop down on the kitchen counter, feeling Blake’s eyes boring into him from the doorway.
“That’s what the guy said.”
“Oh, really? Did you even go there?”
“Of course. The guy’s pretty tall, right? Blonde. Good cheekbones.”
Blake took a step into the kitchen, understanding dawning.
“What did you say to him?”
“Nothing special. Just a few compliments.”
“That’d be it, then,” Blake said with a sigh. “The poor guy broke up with his fiancé last week. He would have been vulnerable.”
Phoenix finished unwrapping the food and began portioning it out between two plates, realising it had been a stupidly long time since he’d actually eaten off of one. “You make me sound wicked,” he said in a reproachful voice, passing the leech a plate and heading towards the door.
Blake rolled his eyes. “You are wicked, Phoe. It’s time to accept it.”
As they made their way into the living room, the redhead tried to remember the first time Blake had started using the nickname. It couldn’t have been too long ago but it felt like years and sounded as natural in Blake’s voice as it had in his family’s and friends’. It had been a good three years since anyone had felt the need to use it at all, Phoenix never having made a close enough friend to earn the privilege.
“Balcony?” Blake asked, pulling the double doors open without waiting for an answer. “Jesus, this lamp is disgusting. You really have to get around to cleaning it.”
By now, the small electric lamp attached on the wall next to the balcony was almost completely covered in clinging ivy, making the light it shed patchy and dim. Blake was attempting to clean it a little, batting at the offending plant as if worried it would give him some disease if he touched it for too long. Ignoring it for now, Phoenix leant against the iron balustrade and slid down until he was seated, long legs splayed out in front of him and feet pressing against the door. The balcony was small, not really big enough for two people to sit on comfortably but if they didn’t mention it they’d feel comfortable enough. Once he was seated beside the redhead, Blake began working his way through the mountain of chips.
“See, you can ingest something that isn’t Chinese takeout or bl-“
“My eating habits are none of your business, thanks,” Blake snapped, one chip poised in front of his lips.
“I’m probably healthier than you.”
“Oh?” Phoenix began, eating with considerably less haste than Blake. He supposed it was because this was late dinner for him whereas for the leech, it was breakfast. “How do you figure that?”
“I’m immune to disease.”
Phoenix almost choked on a chip but recovered within a few minutes when he realised Blake wasn’t going to apologise however melodramatic he made the choking.
“Why did you get the night off work, anyway?” he asked when it seemed a change of subject was in order. Blake set his now empty plate down beside him and tilted his head back, resting against the bars. He was silent for a time, only making a small noise of irritation as Phoenix reached out and began playing with his hair idly, making the colours dance under the electric light. He had long ago giving up trying to stop the idiot from doing so because it wasn’t worth the hassle.
“So?” Phoenix asked, growing bored of waiting. He let his hand drop back to his side. “What did you do to earn a day off?”
“Trashed the bar.”
“What?”
“Worse than last time.”
“Who pissed you off this time?”
“Some guy.”
“Oh?” Phoenix’s eyes narrowed and when he spoke next his voice was not entirely mocking. “Someone moving in on my territory?”
“Fuck off, it wasn’t like that. As if I’d let anyone else get one up on me like that. He was a...ugh, you know.”
“A flirt?”
“There’s more to life than sex, Phoe. He was a leech.”
Phoenix almost dropped his plate in surprise and set it down on the ground in front of him before replying.
“Really? In London?”
“No, in Scotland. What do you think?”
“But...it’s weird isn’t it?”
Blake shrugged. “Not really. There’s bound to be a ton of us in a city as large as this, we’re like a fucking plague. I’d managed to avoid them until now.”
Unable to feel as casual about the encounter as Blake sounded, Phoenix attempted to turn his surprised expression into one of curiosity.
“So what did he do? What did he want with you?”
“To recruit me or some shit like that. It doesn’t matter.”
“Why?”
“Because I rammed his head into the jukebox.”
“Oh.”
“Terry’s gonna have to buy a new one at last.”
Phoenix watched Blake for a few silent minutes, picturing the chaos that would be the pub he had left last night. The damages they had caused the night they met had only been enough to land him with a fine so last night’s incident must have been a lot more serious.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
Blake shrugged. “I am now.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Yeah it is. Even the bruises were gone by this afternoon.”
“But yesterday...”
“He fucked my shoulder up a bit, that’s all. Stop fussing.”
“You never talk about it.”
“Yeah, well, my shoulder isn’t very interesting.”
Blake winced as he was jabbed in the ribs.
“Not your shoulder, idiot. You know what I meant. You never talk about...” Phoenix made wavy motions in the air with his hands. “All that stuff.”
“Stuff?”
“Leech stuff. What happened in New York. Why you came here. That sort of stuff.”
Mumbling something under his breath, Blake leant towards the edge of the balcony, attempting to put some space between him and the redhead. The balcony was too small for this to work but the attempt didn’t go unnoticed. He turned his face away, looking down at the traffic rumbling past far below, the glaring lights finding no opportunity for reflection in his eyes.
“I don’t want to,” he said at length, voice barely above a whisper.
It was hard for Phoenix not to make some comforting gesture, Blake looking somehow smaller and more fragile than usual. He may have recently pushed someone’s head into a jukebox but there was something hopeless in his voice that struck a chord.
“You can trust me,” he promised.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
Blake lapsed into silence again, fingers curling into the faded denim on his jeans. For a few moments, the balcony faded away and all he could see were iron cages smeared with blood and wild, silver eyes behind fists and nails. The sound of the traffic was swallowed up by a continual low groaning and the emotionless call of a loudspeaker as a computer listed numbers and categories but not a single name.
“Do you know what it’s like to be terrified of yourself?” he asked suddenly. “And I don’t mean self-hate or anything like that. Everyone hates themselves at least once so there’s no point in telling you about that. I mean fear, Phoe. Have you got any idea what that’s like?”
Phoenix thought hard before answering. The leech wasn’t joking any more, was perhaps being more honest than he ever had in the past. A hasty answer would do nothing but make him angry, break the fragile thread that seemed to hang between them in the night air. There was something there, some brittle beginning of trust that would crumble with half a wrong move.
He’d been afraid, certainly. When he first came to London, he’d never been more afraid in his life. But even then, stretched out on bare mattresses, wrists grazed and skin tender, he had been frightened of the situation, of the consequences, of the reasons. Never of himself. There was shame in his heart, along with regret that he knew few would believe in. Not fear, though. He couldn’t even imagine it.
“No,” he said, opting for honesty. “I don’t know. What is it you’re afraid of?”
Still looking away, Blake gave a half-shrug.
“I’m afraid of losing myself. Which sounds so dramatic it makes me want to throw up but I can’t think of any other way to say it.”
“Losing yourself to what?”
“To me. The monster I was trying to leave behind. I can force myself to stop thinking about it and I can make sure I never hurt anyone more than a bite mark or two but it doesn’t change what I am. Every time, I have to hold myself back.”
“What would happen if you didn’t?”
“People would die.”
If Blake had sounded angry, Phoenix would have found it hard to believe him. As it was, the leech was speaking in a soft murmur that finally gave Phoenix a real understanding of the word despair. He supposed he should have seen it coming; all of that anger had to come from somewhere. He wished he had realised. He reached out with fingertips that shook a little, aiming to brush them against Blake’s cheek.
“Don’t.”
Cold fingers wrapped around his wrist and held him back with an iron grip. At last, Blake turned back to face him.
“Don’t just touch me as if I haven’t said a thing.”
“It doesn’t change anything.”
“I said people would die, Phoenix. You got a death wish now?”
Refusing to draw back his hand, Phoenix turned towards the living room, the lights from inside melting the crimson in his eyes to soft ochre.
“Maybe,” he murmured.
“What the hell do you mean by that?”
Phoenix’s wrist was turning numb, the skin under Blake’s finger growing pale. The redhead continued speaking as if he hadn’t heard.
“When I left home, I suppose I must have done. The things I did. The things I asked people to do to me. The things I didn’t ask them to do. You saw the scars, didn’t you? You’re right, Blake. I don’t know what it’s like to be scared of myself. I’m not sure if I even really know what it means to be scared at all. If I did, I would probably have gone mad by now.”
As he spoke, the grip on his wrist was slowly relaxed although he was not released completely. Their arms began lowering between them unnoticed.
“I should be dead by now. All because I was looking for new ways to get off and sort myself out. I didn’t want to lead people on and make them think I wanted them for who they were so I went to...all sorts of places. But it was too much and I ended up hurting people anyway. I should be scared of that but I’m not. I’m not even as ashamed as I should be.”
Blake twitched as his hand met the stone floor of the balcony. Turning back to fix Blake with a steady gaze, Phoenix slipped his wrist out of Blake’s loose grip and slid his fingers across to rest atop the leech’s. He ran one thumb slowly over the back of Blake’s hand.
“So stop telling me you’re a monster, babe,” he said. “Because you’re not any worse than I am.”
“Bullshit.” Blake wished his voice would rise higher than a whisper. “It’s not the same.”
“Of course it’s not. But not wanting to hurt people and having to do it anyway? I understand that.”
“Why don’t you just find a nice girl and settle down?” Blake asked, finding more confidence to speak. “It wouldn’t be too hard, would it?”
“I could never be faithful. Don’t give me that look, I’m being honest. I could maybe not sleep with anyone else but I can’t imagine not being able to flirt with or kiss anyone I liked. Could you imagine only having one person’s blood for the rest of your life?”
Blake blinked and didn’t reply.
“Thank you for trusting me.”
“What with?” Blake tried to laugh. “I haven’t told you anything.”
“Not with words.”
Phoenix’s fingers tightened over Blake’s. Neither of them looked down as Blake turned his hand over to squeeze back. On the street below, a group of women were complaining loudly about their lives, focussing on boredom, sex, appearance and men in general. Blake and Phoenix listened until the women had rounded the corner of the block and their nasal voices had been drowned out by the cars. It felt like forever since either of them blinked. Perhaps they had and just couldn’t remember.
“I’m sick of this, Phoe. Nothing’s changed by coming here. I don’t feel better at all.”
No reply. As Phoenix leant forwards, his weight pushed their hands further into the floor, Blake’s nails digging into the back of his hand. Blake’s half of the balcony suddenly seemed a lot smaller. With the hesitance of a man finally receiving a long awaited prize, Phoenix touched his fingers to Blake’s hair. It was a light touch, one that the leech might not have noticed if it had been any other time. Blake waited until he could feel breath on his cheek before speaking.
“Déjà vu.”
“Mm?”
“You’re going to kiss me, aren’t you?”
“Do you want me to?”
“I don’t know.”
Phoenix moved his fingers through Blake’s hair, watching as the leech unconsciously turned into the touch.
“You’ve closed your eyes.”
“Yeah.”
“So?”
“Should I open them?”
“You never answered my question.”
A feather touch on Phoenix’s hand as Blake flexed his fingers. He didn’t reply. Listening to his now shallow breathing, Phoenix didn’t need one.
“Do you want me to kiss you?”
“I don’t know...”
Breath against his lips and warm fingers touching the back of his neck.
“I’m deciding for you.”
For less than four seconds, the kiss was uncomplicated, a simple brush of lips that contained more affection and trust than either of them were comfortable putting into words. Then Blake parted his lips. The next four seconds were chaotic and jumbled as the leech was pressed further back against the bars of the balcony,
Phoenix’s body warm against his own. The kiss became so much more than just lips; it now involved hands pressing against clothes, fingers pulling at hair and noises deep in the back of throats. As Blake’s skull jarred against the metal bars, his eyes slammed open. The stars reflected in the amber orbs as he stared unseeingly upwards.
Phoenix kept his eyes closed as he dragged his lips down the line of Blake’s throat, tasting the pale skin with the tip of his tongue. With his hand pressed against the other’s chest, he had proof that leeches did have living, beating hearts. By undoing three shirt buttons with deft fingers and slipping his hand beneath the cotton, he found evidence that they were as warm as any other being and very alive. Dragging his hand downwards inside Blake’s shirt, Phoenix smiled as taut abdominal muscles fluttered under his palm.
As if he wasn’t arching against Phoenix’s chest reflexively while the redhead unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way, Blake spoke in a voice broken by his jagged breathing.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Making you feel better.”
Lips now gliding over Blake’s chest, Phoenix almost laughed as the leech wove a hand into his crimson hair in a feeble attempt to move him away. It was too late for that now.
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“I want to.”
“But-“ Blake stopped speaking for a moment as teeth grazed over sensitive skin and he had to bite his lip to keep quiet.
“For once,” Phoenix began, punctuating each few words with a kiss as he travelled the distance back to Blake’s lips. “For once, just stop making excuses. Please.”
“But-“
“I’m not using you anymore. You can feel that, can’t you?”
“No...”
Phoenix took the hand that was still trailing in his hair and pushed it up under the hem of his t-shirt, dragging the fingers across the raised lines on his stomach. They were cold from the night air. Phoenix shivered.
“Feel it now?”
Blake pulled his fingers out of Phoenix’s grasp and ran them over the skin of his own accord, back and forth over the scars slowly. Phoenix waited, poised, as the hand slid higher across his skin. Blake’s hesitance was almost palpable.
“I feel it,” the leech whispered. “So why are you-“
“I told you already. Are you going to stop talking now?”
Blake didn’t make any more excuses as Phoenix closed the difference and resumed the kiss that had started without a higher agenda. The cramped position that the balcony put them in meant that it was difficult to move any closer to one another, even with Blake pulling himself away from the bars entirely and wrapping one arm around Phoenix’s neck. The redhead used his free hand to push the hanging material of Blake’s shirt to the side, exposing his pale skin to the gentle spring moonlight. He only looked for a moment, savouring the sight, before deepening the kiss. Blake still tasted of salt and vinegar from the food. That would fade soon, Phoenix was certain. Sense obscured by a warm red haze, Phoenix almost cut his tongue on Blake’s upper teeth. The leech jolted against him, a slight whimper escaping his lips as they parted.
“Inside,” Phoenix whispered. He pulled himself to his feet, dragging Blake up beside him since the leech still hadn’t let go of his hand. He clung to it as Phoenix stumbled the distance to the bedroom, leaving the balcony doors open wide. He didn’t let go until he was lying back on the sheets, not entirely sure how he had got there, and even then only because Phoenix forced him to. The sheets were smooth and cold against his back as the redhead slipped him the rest of the way out of his shirt, pressing him back against the bed with confident hands once he had done so.
Looking down at Blake’s flushed cheeks and swollen lips with a slight smile, Phoenix ran a hand down the exposed skin.
“Why are you so nervous? It’s not like I haven’t seen you like this before.”
“It was different,” Blake managed between breaths. Phoenix nodded before putting it out of his mind. He could work out what was different later, when it would matter.
Blake was unable to close his eyes as Phoenix shrugged out of his clothes, the movement entirely natural to him, just as he was unable to open them as the redhead began kissing him again, making a trail down his neck and chest. Phoenix’s skin was burning and firm against his own, pressing him back into the mattress with intoxicating control. Words of false anger died on Blake’s helpless lips. It was easier to smother his pride and submit to the electric flashes of pleasure shooting up his spine.
“Feeling better yet?” Phoenix spoke against Blake’s skin, grinning as the leech turned his face away, eyes closed.
“Just shut up,” Blake whispered, pressing his hands against Phoenix’s ribs and ignoring the warm laugh that followed.
It was different. Before they had each moved with a desperate purpose, focussed on what they needed most. Not knowing what that was now meant that there was no desperation in their actions. They moved slowly, as if the whole universe had melted down into two bodies. They kissed tirelessly, hands running gently downwards, against the rough denim of jeans, soft cotton, heated skin. Blake’s mind went dark with desire as Phoenix’s eyes did the same with purpose, the redhead sliding down Blake’s body with lips and tongue and teeth, mind burning with the thrills of undeniable lust reaching him from the leech. Each whimper and moan made him want to postpone the moment indefinitely while each broken sentence urged him onwards. There was something enthralling about Blake like this, not only his voice but the sound of his breath against the sheets and the taste that lingered on Phoenix’s lips.
Feeling fingers grazing their way back up his chest, Blake turned his head in anticipation of kisses that would further steal his breath. He raked his hands through Phoenix’s dishevelled hair and kissed as if he’d never have the chance to again, sharp teeth catching the redhead’s skin and body arching up off of the bed to meet him.
Phoenix could play the tender lover as easily as any other but found himself unable to even think of taking any other role with Blake. He moved slowly, ignoring the increasingly aching tone of Blake’s demands, maintaining control for as long as possible until the sensations of skin on skin became too intense to ignore. He found Blake’s hand again as they moved in concert together, squeezing the leech’s fingers against the pillow as if it was the first time he had ever known someone in this way. Finding a moment of clarity, he realised it was the first time, in a way, the first time he had been accepted by someone who knew him for what he was. This passed Blake by as, dark hair tangled against the sheets and nails digging into the back of Phoenix’s hand, he was incapable of anything approaching thought. The reasoning passed for Phoenix as he let his eyes close tightly and he fell deeper into the moment, finally giving in to the suggestions now being shouted into the darkness.
The universe was no longer just two bodies, it was one, one gasping and trembling being spoke with two voices, now moaning incoherently against tender skin, now whispering alien words against an ear. One of Blake’s hands dragged the sheets towards him, groping for purchase and finding none on the silk.
He hadn’t even considered the inevitable next step until he felt teeth pressing against the hand that still held the leech’s down against the sheets, the pressure light enough to show that Blake was still hesitant about his actions. Without opening his eyes, Phoenix slowed his motions so he could move and breathe enough and pressed his other wrist against Blake’s lips. Encouragement wasn’t needed this time and Phoenix cried out as pain ripped through his nerves. It was worth it though, worth every last second as he watched Blake letting himself surrender to his nature without the fear of hurting or betraying someone. Once the leech let Phoenix’s arm go, the redhead caught the bloodstained lips in a kiss and gave up trying to think or reason.
The salt and vinegar taste was completely gone now, replaced by a mix of blood and what he now knew and would forever remember as Blake.
There was no hesitation in Phoenix as he yielded to the sensation and gave every part of himself to the leech in the only way he knew how. Trembling and breathless, Blake felt no fear in being himself despite being in such a pitiable state. It was easier to trust this way than through words and confessions.
Logically, it was wrong to think that this was enough to solve anything or make a difference at all. It was hard to believe that as they lay against one another, blood staining the sheets black and skin slick with sweat. They didn’t acknowledge that Phoenix was laying on Blake’s side of the bed or that they had both been murmuring unnecessary, dangerous words only moments before. They didn’t dare so much as to open their eyes. Not because either was afraid that it would all vanish as if it had been a dream or a half-considered thought but because neither had dreamt or even half-considered the night ending in any way that didn’t involve takeout and television. Words had started this and they’d need words to end it.
Blake let Phoenix reach out and draw him closer, one arm draping over his waist. He pressed his forehead against Phoenix’s chest, feeling a gradually slowing heartbeat that pulsed deep inside his brain, and waited for the sun to rise.
Words could wait until later.
The plan worked for three months which was two months and thirty days longer than either of them had been expecting. A new routine developed, one only slightly more skewed than the last.
If he timed it right, Phoenix could bring someone back to the apartment while Blake was working. If he put seduction-mode into overdrive, he could have the person out and the apartment tidy by the time the leech returned, which would be later than usual since Blake would have spent at least an hour convincing someone that biting really was the in-thing these days. He would pretend the apartment didn’t smell of sex and Phoenix wouldn’t mention the blood that occasionally spilt onto Blake’s collar. A new unspoken agreement arose, one that operated on a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy, something which extended to cover anything either had said during the kitchen incident.
Which didn’t mean neither of them thought about it. Blake was in a foul mood for days after he found an earring under the pillow he had taken to sleeping on and Phoenix was reprimanded by Diana for spacing out at work while trying to finish the sentence Blake had begun.
They stopped buying food out so often, which made little sense since both were back to receiving steady pay, and Blake grudgingly agreed to start helping with things like shopping and heating since it was still cheaper than living out of hostels. He didn’t like talking about it since it made him feel old.
By the time spring had taken control of the city with her green fingers, Phoenix was well-versed in the world of action films although not any more knowledgeable about the underground world Blake had started explaining on the first night. He didn’t mind too much, comforting himself with the assumption that if he asked, Blake would explain whether he really wanted to or not. It was becoming more obvious with every day that Blake was a lot kinder than he liked people to believe, especially when he was sleepy and unguarded. Phoenix found it hard to believe his life had reached the point where he could look at the leech, previously known to him as a being of violence and conflict, and genuinely think of him as a loveable idiot.
If that had been everything, it would have been simple.
Waking up on a bright March morning, Phoenix had to face up to the fact that it was a little more complicated.
Blake’s skin was soft beneath his hand. The leech wouldn’t feel it, of course, since once he was asleep it would take an earthquake to wake him up again. Regardless, Phoenix brushed his fingers down Blake’s side, feeling the soft waves of ribs and then the sharp incline of a hipbone. His hair was equally soft, when Phoenix moved on to pay attention to that, and ran between his fingers like silk. When he was asleep, it was easy to forget that Blake was as bad tempered as a mule. Phoenix allowed himself to press his lips against one pale shoulder before pulling himself out of bed with an unhappy groan.
He wasn’t sure when it had happened. Before, they had accepted that they liked each other’s company and been fantastic at ignoring the fact that Blake was lodging there without asking permission. Now they had accepted that Blake was as much a fixture of the apartment as the television, if not as popular, but hadn’t quite worked themselves up to admitting what happened when they climbed into bed every night.
It could have been worse, Phoenix reflected as he pulled on a suitably dramatic outfit for work. They could have been sleeping together and undermining the whole system. They could have been flirting and making things tense. But Phoenix had been on his best behaviour and Blake made sure to crush every half-hearted remark before it could be taken seriously. It was just that, once they were in bed and drifting off to sleep, Phoenix’s arm would find its way to Blake’s waist and, if it couldn’t quite reach, Blake would shift just slightly to help it out. That was it and nothing more, a silent half-embrace that went unmentioned. Well, that and the small gestures of affection Phoenix would allow himself upon waking, safe in the knowledge that Blake would never know.
He was sure friends did such things. The action itself wasn’t really the problem. If they had laughed it off, it would have been fine. It was the silence that made things complicated. Silence meant they could pretend it hadn’t happened which also meant that there was a reason they didn’t want to admit it.
Phoenix had become good at getting dressed in the dark and it only took a few minutes. He sighed as he brushed out his hair and went to leave the room, putting the thought from his mind so that he could get through the day without feeling guilty.
“Wait.”
The voice was sleepy and muffled by the pillow but was most definitely not just mumbled during dreaming. Phoenix froze, fully expecting a punch or a torrent of abuse.
“Forgot t’say somethin’last night,” Blake mumbled, apparently oblivious of the touches from a moment before.
“Yes?” Phoenix asked, wisely shutting his mouth before he could apologise for something he hadn’t been caught doing.
“I got th’night off t’night.”
“Oh, right. Want me to stay out?”
“Nah. Wanted t’know if you wanted to do somethin’. S’been a fuckin’ long time since we spent a whole night t’gether.”
Phoenix blinked owlishly before a warm smile graced his lips.
“Okay. I’ll see you later.”
“Kay. Bring food.”
By the time Phoenix let himself out of the front door, Blake had started snoring again.
“What do you mean ‘they ran out of Chinese’? They’re a Chinese takeaway.”
Phoenix shrugged and set the tightly wrapped packages from the chip shop down on the kitchen counter, feeling Blake’s eyes boring into him from the doorway.
“That’s what the guy said.”
“Oh, really? Did you even go there?”
“Of course. The guy’s pretty tall, right? Blonde. Good cheekbones.”
Blake took a step into the kitchen, understanding dawning.
“What did you say to him?”
“Nothing special. Just a few compliments.”
“That’d be it, then,” Blake said with a sigh. “The poor guy broke up with his fiancé last week. He would have been vulnerable.”
Phoenix finished unwrapping the food and began portioning it out between two plates, realising it had been a stupidly long time since he’d actually eaten off of one. “You make me sound wicked,” he said in a reproachful voice, passing the leech a plate and heading towards the door.
Blake rolled his eyes. “You are wicked, Phoe. It’s time to accept it.”
As they made their way into the living room, the redhead tried to remember the first time Blake had started using the nickname. It couldn’t have been too long ago but it felt like years and sounded as natural in Blake’s voice as it had in his family’s and friends’. It had been a good three years since anyone had felt the need to use it at all, Phoenix never having made a close enough friend to earn the privilege.
“Balcony?” Blake asked, pulling the double doors open without waiting for an answer. “Jesus, this lamp is disgusting. You really have to get around to cleaning it.”
By now, the small electric lamp attached on the wall next to the balcony was almost completely covered in clinging ivy, making the light it shed patchy and dim. Blake was attempting to clean it a little, batting at the offending plant as if worried it would give him some disease if he touched it for too long. Ignoring it for now, Phoenix leant against the iron balustrade and slid down until he was seated, long legs splayed out in front of him and feet pressing against the door. The balcony was small, not really big enough for two people to sit on comfortably but if they didn’t mention it they’d feel comfortable enough. Once he was seated beside the redhead, Blake began working his way through the mountain of chips.
“See, you can ingest something that isn’t Chinese takeout or bl-“
“My eating habits are none of your business, thanks,” Blake snapped, one chip poised in front of his lips.
“I’m probably healthier than you.”
“Oh?” Phoenix began, eating with considerably less haste than Blake. He supposed it was because this was late dinner for him whereas for the leech, it was breakfast. “How do you figure that?”
“I’m immune to disease.”
Phoenix almost choked on a chip but recovered within a few minutes when he realised Blake wasn’t going to apologise however melodramatic he made the choking.
“Why did you get the night off work, anyway?” he asked when it seemed a change of subject was in order. Blake set his now empty plate down beside him and tilted his head back, resting against the bars. He was silent for a time, only making a small noise of irritation as Phoenix reached out and began playing with his hair idly, making the colours dance under the electric light. He had long ago giving up trying to stop the idiot from doing so because it wasn’t worth the hassle.
“So?” Phoenix asked, growing bored of waiting. He let his hand drop back to his side. “What did you do to earn a day off?”
“Trashed the bar.”
“What?”
“Worse than last time.”
“Who pissed you off this time?”
“Some guy.”
“Oh?” Phoenix’s eyes narrowed and when he spoke next his voice was not entirely mocking. “Someone moving in on my territory?”
“Fuck off, it wasn’t like that. As if I’d let anyone else get one up on me like that. He was a...ugh, you know.”
“A flirt?”
“There’s more to life than sex, Phoe. He was a leech.”
Phoenix almost dropped his plate in surprise and set it down on the ground in front of him before replying.
“Really? In London?”
“No, in Scotland. What do you think?”
“But...it’s weird isn’t it?”
Blake shrugged. “Not really. There’s bound to be a ton of us in a city as large as this, we’re like a fucking plague. I’d managed to avoid them until now.”
Unable to feel as casual about the encounter as Blake sounded, Phoenix attempted to turn his surprised expression into one of curiosity.
“So what did he do? What did he want with you?”
“To recruit me or some shit like that. It doesn’t matter.”
“Why?”
“Because I rammed his head into the jukebox.”
“Oh.”
“Terry’s gonna have to buy a new one at last.”
Phoenix watched Blake for a few silent minutes, picturing the chaos that would be the pub he had left last night. The damages they had caused the night they met had only been enough to land him with a fine so last night’s incident must have been a lot more serious.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
Blake shrugged. “I am now.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Yeah it is. Even the bruises were gone by this afternoon.”
“But yesterday...”
“He fucked my shoulder up a bit, that’s all. Stop fussing.”
“You never talk about it.”
“Yeah, well, my shoulder isn’t very interesting.”
Blake winced as he was jabbed in the ribs.
“Not your shoulder, idiot. You know what I meant. You never talk about...” Phoenix made wavy motions in the air with his hands. “All that stuff.”
“Stuff?”
“Leech stuff. What happened in New York. Why you came here. That sort of stuff.”
Mumbling something under his breath, Blake leant towards the edge of the balcony, attempting to put some space between him and the redhead. The balcony was too small for this to work but the attempt didn’t go unnoticed. He turned his face away, looking down at the traffic rumbling past far below, the glaring lights finding no opportunity for reflection in his eyes.
“I don’t want to,” he said at length, voice barely above a whisper.
It was hard for Phoenix not to make some comforting gesture, Blake looking somehow smaller and more fragile than usual. He may have recently pushed someone’s head into a jukebox but there was something hopeless in his voice that struck a chord.
“You can trust me,” he promised.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
Blake lapsed into silence again, fingers curling into the faded denim on his jeans. For a few moments, the balcony faded away and all he could see were iron cages smeared with blood and wild, silver eyes behind fists and nails. The sound of the traffic was swallowed up by a continual low groaning and the emotionless call of a loudspeaker as a computer listed numbers and categories but not a single name.
“Do you know what it’s like to be terrified of yourself?” he asked suddenly. “And I don’t mean self-hate or anything like that. Everyone hates themselves at least once so there’s no point in telling you about that. I mean fear, Phoe. Have you got any idea what that’s like?”
Phoenix thought hard before answering. The leech wasn’t joking any more, was perhaps being more honest than he ever had in the past. A hasty answer would do nothing but make him angry, break the fragile thread that seemed to hang between them in the night air. There was something there, some brittle beginning of trust that would crumble with half a wrong move.
He’d been afraid, certainly. When he first came to London, he’d never been more afraid in his life. But even then, stretched out on bare mattresses, wrists grazed and skin tender, he had been frightened of the situation, of the consequences, of the reasons. Never of himself. There was shame in his heart, along with regret that he knew few would believe in. Not fear, though. He couldn’t even imagine it.
“No,” he said, opting for honesty. “I don’t know. What is it you’re afraid of?”
Still looking away, Blake gave a half-shrug.
“I’m afraid of losing myself. Which sounds so dramatic it makes me want to throw up but I can’t think of any other way to say it.”
“Losing yourself to what?”
“To me. The monster I was trying to leave behind. I can force myself to stop thinking about it and I can make sure I never hurt anyone more than a bite mark or two but it doesn’t change what I am. Every time, I have to hold myself back.”
“What would happen if you didn’t?”
“People would die.”
If Blake had sounded angry, Phoenix would have found it hard to believe him. As it was, the leech was speaking in a soft murmur that finally gave Phoenix a real understanding of the word despair. He supposed he should have seen it coming; all of that anger had to come from somewhere. He wished he had realised. He reached out with fingertips that shook a little, aiming to brush them against Blake’s cheek.
“Don’t.”
Cold fingers wrapped around his wrist and held him back with an iron grip. At last, Blake turned back to face him.
“Don’t just touch me as if I haven’t said a thing.”
“It doesn’t change anything.”
“I said people would die, Phoenix. You got a death wish now?”
Refusing to draw back his hand, Phoenix turned towards the living room, the lights from inside melting the crimson in his eyes to soft ochre.
“Maybe,” he murmured.
“What the hell do you mean by that?”
Phoenix’s wrist was turning numb, the skin under Blake’s finger growing pale. The redhead continued speaking as if he hadn’t heard.
“When I left home, I suppose I must have done. The things I did. The things I asked people to do to me. The things I didn’t ask them to do. You saw the scars, didn’t you? You’re right, Blake. I don’t know what it’s like to be scared of myself. I’m not sure if I even really know what it means to be scared at all. If I did, I would probably have gone mad by now.”
As he spoke, the grip on his wrist was slowly relaxed although he was not released completely. Their arms began lowering between them unnoticed.
“I should be dead by now. All because I was looking for new ways to get off and sort myself out. I didn’t want to lead people on and make them think I wanted them for who they were so I went to...all sorts of places. But it was too much and I ended up hurting people anyway. I should be scared of that but I’m not. I’m not even as ashamed as I should be.”
Blake twitched as his hand met the stone floor of the balcony. Turning back to fix Blake with a steady gaze, Phoenix slipped his wrist out of Blake’s loose grip and slid his fingers across to rest atop the leech’s. He ran one thumb slowly over the back of Blake’s hand.
“So stop telling me you’re a monster, babe,” he said. “Because you’re not any worse than I am.”
“Bullshit.” Blake wished his voice would rise higher than a whisper. “It’s not the same.”
“Of course it’s not. But not wanting to hurt people and having to do it anyway? I understand that.”
“Why don’t you just find a nice girl and settle down?” Blake asked, finding more confidence to speak. “It wouldn’t be too hard, would it?”
“I could never be faithful. Don’t give me that look, I’m being honest. I could maybe not sleep with anyone else but I can’t imagine not being able to flirt with or kiss anyone I liked. Could you imagine only having one person’s blood for the rest of your life?”
Blake blinked and didn’t reply.
“Thank you for trusting me.”
“What with?” Blake tried to laugh. “I haven’t told you anything.”
“Not with words.”
Phoenix’s fingers tightened over Blake’s. Neither of them looked down as Blake turned his hand over to squeeze back. On the street below, a group of women were complaining loudly about their lives, focussing on boredom, sex, appearance and men in general. Blake and Phoenix listened until the women had rounded the corner of the block and their nasal voices had been drowned out by the cars. It felt like forever since either of them blinked. Perhaps they had and just couldn’t remember.
“I’m sick of this, Phoe. Nothing’s changed by coming here. I don’t feel better at all.”
No reply. As Phoenix leant forwards, his weight pushed their hands further into the floor, Blake’s nails digging into the back of his hand. Blake’s half of the balcony suddenly seemed a lot smaller. With the hesitance of a man finally receiving a long awaited prize, Phoenix touched his fingers to Blake’s hair. It was a light touch, one that the leech might not have noticed if it had been any other time. Blake waited until he could feel breath on his cheek before speaking.
“Déjà vu.”
“Mm?”
“You’re going to kiss me, aren’t you?”
“Do you want me to?”
“I don’t know.”
Phoenix moved his fingers through Blake’s hair, watching as the leech unconsciously turned into the touch.
“You’ve closed your eyes.”
“Yeah.”
“So?”
“Should I open them?”
“You never answered my question.”
A feather touch on Phoenix’s hand as Blake flexed his fingers. He didn’t reply. Listening to his now shallow breathing, Phoenix didn’t need one.
“Do you want me to kiss you?”
“I don’t know...”
Breath against his lips and warm fingers touching the back of his neck.
“I’m deciding for you.”
For less than four seconds, the kiss was uncomplicated, a simple brush of lips that contained more affection and trust than either of them were comfortable putting into words. Then Blake parted his lips. The next four seconds were chaotic and jumbled as the leech was pressed further back against the bars of the balcony,
Phoenix’s body warm against his own. The kiss became so much more than just lips; it now involved hands pressing against clothes, fingers pulling at hair and noises deep in the back of throats. As Blake’s skull jarred against the metal bars, his eyes slammed open. The stars reflected in the amber orbs as he stared unseeingly upwards.
Phoenix kept his eyes closed as he dragged his lips down the line of Blake’s throat, tasting the pale skin with the tip of his tongue. With his hand pressed against the other’s chest, he had proof that leeches did have living, beating hearts. By undoing three shirt buttons with deft fingers and slipping his hand beneath the cotton, he found evidence that they were as warm as any other being and very alive. Dragging his hand downwards inside Blake’s shirt, Phoenix smiled as taut abdominal muscles fluttered under his palm.
As if he wasn’t arching against Phoenix’s chest reflexively while the redhead unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way, Blake spoke in a voice broken by his jagged breathing.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Making you feel better.”
Lips now gliding over Blake’s chest, Phoenix almost laughed as the leech wove a hand into his crimson hair in a feeble attempt to move him away. It was too late for that now.
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“I want to.”
“But-“ Blake stopped speaking for a moment as teeth grazed over sensitive skin and he had to bite his lip to keep quiet.
“For once,” Phoenix began, punctuating each few words with a kiss as he travelled the distance back to Blake’s lips. “For once, just stop making excuses. Please.”
“But-“
“I’m not using you anymore. You can feel that, can’t you?”
“No...”
Phoenix took the hand that was still trailing in his hair and pushed it up under the hem of his t-shirt, dragging the fingers across the raised lines on his stomach. They were cold from the night air. Phoenix shivered.
“Feel it now?”
Blake pulled his fingers out of Phoenix’s grasp and ran them over the skin of his own accord, back and forth over the scars slowly. Phoenix waited, poised, as the hand slid higher across his skin. Blake’s hesitance was almost palpable.
“I feel it,” the leech whispered. “So why are you-“
“I told you already. Are you going to stop talking now?”
Blake didn’t make any more excuses as Phoenix closed the difference and resumed the kiss that had started without a higher agenda. The cramped position that the balcony put them in meant that it was difficult to move any closer to one another, even with Blake pulling himself away from the bars entirely and wrapping one arm around Phoenix’s neck. The redhead used his free hand to push the hanging material of Blake’s shirt to the side, exposing his pale skin to the gentle spring moonlight. He only looked for a moment, savouring the sight, before deepening the kiss. Blake still tasted of salt and vinegar from the food. That would fade soon, Phoenix was certain. Sense obscured by a warm red haze, Phoenix almost cut his tongue on Blake’s upper teeth. The leech jolted against him, a slight whimper escaping his lips as they parted.
“Inside,” Phoenix whispered. He pulled himself to his feet, dragging Blake up beside him since the leech still hadn’t let go of his hand. He clung to it as Phoenix stumbled the distance to the bedroom, leaving the balcony doors open wide. He didn’t let go until he was lying back on the sheets, not entirely sure how he had got there, and even then only because Phoenix forced him to. The sheets were smooth and cold against his back as the redhead slipped him the rest of the way out of his shirt, pressing him back against the bed with confident hands once he had done so.
Looking down at Blake’s flushed cheeks and swollen lips with a slight smile, Phoenix ran a hand down the exposed skin.
“Why are you so nervous? It’s not like I haven’t seen you like this before.”
“It was different,” Blake managed between breaths. Phoenix nodded before putting it out of his mind. He could work out what was different later, when it would matter.
Blake was unable to close his eyes as Phoenix shrugged out of his clothes, the movement entirely natural to him, just as he was unable to open them as the redhead began kissing him again, making a trail down his neck and chest. Phoenix’s skin was burning and firm against his own, pressing him back into the mattress with intoxicating control. Words of false anger died on Blake’s helpless lips. It was easier to smother his pride and submit to the electric flashes of pleasure shooting up his spine.
“Feeling better yet?” Phoenix spoke against Blake’s skin, grinning as the leech turned his face away, eyes closed.
“Just shut up,” Blake whispered, pressing his hands against Phoenix’s ribs and ignoring the warm laugh that followed.
It was different. Before they had each moved with a desperate purpose, focussed on what they needed most. Not knowing what that was now meant that there was no desperation in their actions. They moved slowly, as if the whole universe had melted down into two bodies. They kissed tirelessly, hands running gently downwards, against the rough denim of jeans, soft cotton, heated skin. Blake’s mind went dark with desire as Phoenix’s eyes did the same with purpose, the redhead sliding down Blake’s body with lips and tongue and teeth, mind burning with the thrills of undeniable lust reaching him from the leech. Each whimper and moan made him want to postpone the moment indefinitely while each broken sentence urged him onwards. There was something enthralling about Blake like this, not only his voice but the sound of his breath against the sheets and the taste that lingered on Phoenix’s lips.
Feeling fingers grazing their way back up his chest, Blake turned his head in anticipation of kisses that would further steal his breath. He raked his hands through Phoenix’s dishevelled hair and kissed as if he’d never have the chance to again, sharp teeth catching the redhead’s skin and body arching up off of the bed to meet him.
Phoenix could play the tender lover as easily as any other but found himself unable to even think of taking any other role with Blake. He moved slowly, ignoring the increasingly aching tone of Blake’s demands, maintaining control for as long as possible until the sensations of skin on skin became too intense to ignore. He found Blake’s hand again as they moved in concert together, squeezing the leech’s fingers against the pillow as if it was the first time he had ever known someone in this way. Finding a moment of clarity, he realised it was the first time, in a way, the first time he had been accepted by someone who knew him for what he was. This passed Blake by as, dark hair tangled against the sheets and nails digging into the back of Phoenix’s hand, he was incapable of anything approaching thought. The reasoning passed for Phoenix as he let his eyes close tightly and he fell deeper into the moment, finally giving in to the suggestions now being shouted into the darkness.
The universe was no longer just two bodies, it was one, one gasping and trembling being spoke with two voices, now moaning incoherently against tender skin, now whispering alien words against an ear. One of Blake’s hands dragged the sheets towards him, groping for purchase and finding none on the silk.
He hadn’t even considered the inevitable next step until he felt teeth pressing against the hand that still held the leech’s down against the sheets, the pressure light enough to show that Blake was still hesitant about his actions. Without opening his eyes, Phoenix slowed his motions so he could move and breathe enough and pressed his other wrist against Blake’s lips. Encouragement wasn’t needed this time and Phoenix cried out as pain ripped through his nerves. It was worth it though, worth every last second as he watched Blake letting himself surrender to his nature without the fear of hurting or betraying someone. Once the leech let Phoenix’s arm go, the redhead caught the bloodstained lips in a kiss and gave up trying to think or reason.
The salt and vinegar taste was completely gone now, replaced by a mix of blood and what he now knew and would forever remember as Blake.
There was no hesitation in Phoenix as he yielded to the sensation and gave every part of himself to the leech in the only way he knew how. Trembling and breathless, Blake felt no fear in being himself despite being in such a pitiable state. It was easier to trust this way than through words and confessions.
Logically, it was wrong to think that this was enough to solve anything or make a difference at all. It was hard to believe that as they lay against one another, blood staining the sheets black and skin slick with sweat. They didn’t acknowledge that Phoenix was laying on Blake’s side of the bed or that they had both been murmuring unnecessary, dangerous words only moments before. They didn’t dare so much as to open their eyes. Not because either was afraid that it would all vanish as if it had been a dream or a half-considered thought but because neither had dreamt or even half-considered the night ending in any way that didn’t involve takeout and television. Words had started this and they’d need words to end it.
Blake let Phoenix reach out and draw him closer, one arm draping over his waist. He pressed his forehead against Phoenix’s chest, feeling a gradually slowing heartbeat that pulsed deep inside his brain, and waited for the sun to rise.
Words could wait until later.