"Every angel is terrifying." Rainer Maria Rilke Part Two Brian was livid. At himself, at the kid...Justin. Not really a kid, certainly old enough to know better than to traipse off, leaving the loft door unlocked and the alarm disabled. After everything that had happened in the last weeks, such carelessness, practically inviting burglars inside the expensively furnished space. They'd helped themselves to everything that could possibly be carried out and fit into the freight elevator. Brian discovered the catastrophe when he arrived home with a trick, famished, impatient to get the man behind closed doors and close enough to feed for the first time that day – had almost gone through with it in spite of the discovery, and would have if his fury hadn't overridden his hunger. He'd regretted letting Justin stay with him in the spacious loft on more than one occasion, but this was the last straw, and he'd finally kicked the kid out while Michael hovered alongside, worried it would come to blows, but it hadn't. Not that he hadn't been tempted. He'd gritted his teeth while the authorities surveyed the damage and asked their questions, the warm scent of their blood filling his nostrils and reminding him it was long past time and that he was famished. Ravenous. Now he headed out, the trick he'd brought to the loft already long gone, forcing him to start all over for the second time that day. Not that he ever had difficulty finding a willing subject, but he was already weakened and knew he wouldn't make it back to seclusion, he would have to feed there, on the spot, wherever he found the next best man. Brian felt a wave of hunger so strong it was almost nauseating, and it was all that kid's fault. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to order his thoughts and improvise a new plan. He hated to improvise, especially when he was this starved and impulses fought to gain the upper hand over rationale. These were situations where things could get sloppy and dangerous, and happen in places that put him at risk. Where would be the safest place to go, to do it? Think. Think, Brian... On instinct, he crossed the street and headed for Babylon, reliable hunting grounds every day of the week – if a new pretty face couldn't be found there this early in the evening, he'd find someone less desirable than he normally picked, and fast, a repeat if necessary, even if feeding from the same human more than once carried a slight risk, as he'd discovered when he began feeding this way. Keeping them alive. Too long ago to calculate off-hand, and almost too late to ward off impending trouble and complications, he'd realized that repeat feedings from one human, which had seemed so convenient, had instead put him in danger. He found himself growing increasingly attached to the man in question, even to the point of being tempted to convert him so as not to lose him to mortality, something he'd sworn never to do. Never to curse another human with immortality that seemed so desirable when it was unattainable, and once obtained turned out to be an eternal hell of insatiable cravings, restlessness, constant brutality and meaningless emptiness. He'd also discovered that, despite being commanded and influenced to forget, the man was able to remember more, and more often. Suspicions gave way to railing accusations, then certainty and veiled threats to expose Brian and find a way to reveal his activities and provide evidence that would support his claims. Brian had finally overpowered and drained the man, intent on saving himself. Then, when the finality of it all sank in and he'd let the familiar and strangely cold body slide out of his arms and hit the floor with a heavy thud, he'd wished he hadn't. And he'd sworn he'd never, ever, do it again. Brian lit a cigarette and exhaled noisily. So why was he doing it again? Justin. The same mistake and he was repeating it after all this time, worse – knowingly taking a risk. Being compelled to take it, not thinking, not even wanting to think when the kid showed up with his uncanny ability to track Brian down when he was at his weakest. Needy, empty and esurient. Choosing that moment to slither against him unafraid, to wrap his cold body in a warm embrace like a mantle of silky skin and heated flesh, offering himself, tilting his head back to whisper "Please..." in his ear. It seemed to be a string of slip-ups on his part, and Brian suspected that taking Justin to the loft the night he'd spotted him under the street light had already been the first mistake. Everything about that night had been so intriguingly different from everything he remembered that it fired off a whole series of mishaps. Now the kid was an almost permanent presence in the loft, a constantly avaliable temptation that he'd given in to repeatedly, more times than he wanted to count. It hadn't just been because the kid had turned out to be a virgin that first night. That discovery should have warned Brian, but he'd gone ahead anyway, made something more of it than the anonymous, frantic rush it'd always been with the other, more experienced and self-assured tricks. He'd actually talked with the kid and the things he'd heard him say, absurd things babbled in nervous agitation, trying so bravely to make an impression, had made Brian smile and had touched him in places he'd been sure were vaulted forever. He flicked his cigarette into the gutter, exhaling the last of the smoke. The kid. Justin. Of course he'd remembered his name, remembered the first time he'd heard it. He'd set his own craving for sustenance and impatience to get on with it aside and drawn it out, taken more time with Justin than he should have; but he'd luxuriated in the feeling of Justin's incredibly soft skin under his fingertips, exhilarated by the knowledge that he was the first one being allowed to touch him that way. He discovered he didn't want to rush ahead eventually, kissing and licking the velvety skin and leaving it unbroken, too engrossed in Justin's unjaded responsiveness and intense pleasure to stop. When he'd penetrated Justin and it had caused him pain, he held back, kissing him again and again, at first to distract him and then it had been Justin kissing him, grabbing at his hair and sucking at his lips, filling his mouth with sweet warm breath and ecstatic moans at the overwhelming sensations Brian was creating. Finally, Brian had let his lips go to Justin's throat, immediately finding the place where a river of blood rushed and pulsed just under the skin, and he'd penetrated him there too, flooding his mouth with the salty sweetness. And instead of struggling and voicing futile protests like others before him, Justin wrapped his arms around Brian's neck and pulled him even closer, throwing his head back and moaning yes, yes, coming almost instantly as Brian's teeth sank deeper. Brian groaned, the heavy rush of blood almost choking him as he came, making him gasp for air and bringing him back to his senses before he gave in to the impulse to pin the kid down and keep swallowing, drain him until there was nothing left, to take all of him. He'd drawn back, gasping. "Justin—" The kid's eyes were closed, face even paler than before, but his mouth quirked in a soft smile. "Mmm?" "You won't remember any of this, Justin." Brian settled back on the pillows, let his breathing slow and closed his eyes as he felt the warmth he always felt after feeding spread through him, making him feel heavy and almost drugged. He was almost asleep when he felt Justin curl against him, his arm over Brian's chest, face pressed against his neck. Brian drifted into warmth and sleep, into dreams. A freaky dream that felt like resurfacing into conciousness. Justin's voice whispering in his ear sounded almost real and un-dreamlike. "Brian...yes I will. You told me to always remember this...so that no matter who I'm with..." Brian slept, his attention fading away even as he heard the words. The next morning, Brian woke up irritated at finding Justin already awake, lying next to him, nestled close in the huge bed. Irritated that the kid had been watching him sleep. Irritated at his jabbering. Irritated that he was there at all. He'd brushed off Justin's advances and deflated him by letting him think Brian had forgotten even his name, and finally he'd given up and asked to use the shower. Brian followed him into the bathroom a few minutes later, this time irritated that Justin was taking so long, knowing they were running late as it was. He entered the bathroom and found him there, naked and glistening under the spray. Brian paused and his mood and intention to kick the kid out and claim the shower stall for himself evanesced like the vapor drifting over the glass enclosure. Instead he'd joined Justin inside. The sandalwood scent of the soap drifted into his nostrils as he smoothed the expensive lather over Justin's sleek skin, trying to keep his mind on the unaccustomed stream of babble and his own answers; some mindless chatter about lesbians, child-rearing, spankings. He was hard. When the fuck had that happened? Justin's mouth dropped open and he grinned. "You up for one more?" Brian heard himself ask. He'd almost shoved Justin against the glass wall, pressing close, fingers gliding over warm, slick skin, pushing inside. Justin curved back against him, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the wet, slippery surface he was flattened against, until Brian's hands closed around his chest and stomach, pulling him back to lean against him. Brian squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the heavy thud of Justin's pulse under his hands, his own blood rushing in his ears, tempting him, as he thrust into Justin again and again. He wouldn't, he told himself. Justin's head fell back on Brian's shoulder, chest heaving and moaning his name, and Brian realized the mark that was still visible from last night was only inches away from his mouth. Justin half twisted, turning his face back, bringing his lips closer to Brian's ear. "Yes," he'd whispered, "yes." He lifted his arm and flattened his hand against the back of Brian's head, pulling him forward. "Brian...do it." Brian kissed the mark he'd left on Justin's neck and the kid tilted his face upwards, whispering to him again. Brian bared his teeth. Bit down hard. It went on, and by now Brian suspected it was close to getting completely out of hand. Justin followed him, always there, always offering himself, constantly finding new ways to draw Brian in. Pulling off his shirt and dancing next to him at Babylon just when he was deciding which of the two tricks he would drag to the back room to feed on first, and which he might be able to save for later. And he needed a moment to recover from the surprise when both of the men deserted him and closed in on Justin, and another moment to recover from the sudden wave of angry jealousy that rose up from his stomach and blazed in his throat, only to realize the reaction wasn't about the tricks. It was about the kid, squeezed between the two men on the dancefloor, writhing against them both in lascivious abandon, naked flesh that Brian remembered so well glowing under the strobe lights. He pushed the tricks away from Justin and pulled him close, hands making contact on the silky skin of his back and stomach, gliding smoothly on a light film of perspiration that made him seem misted with dew. "I know what you're doing," Brian told him. Justin laughed, wrapping his arms around Brian's neck as he felt himself being lifted off the ground in a rough embrace. He brought his lips to Brian's ear. "I know what you're doing too," he whispered. And he had known. And Brian did it again later, back at the loft. Justin fled his mother and went to Debbie's several days later, and Brian was once again deterred and hindered from feeding by a phone call from Michael, asking him to come and help deal with the situation. And he went. And he knew he'd find Justin upstairs in Michael's room, waiting for him, waiting for him to do it yet again. He'd practically thrown himself at Brian, who pushed him back even while he knew he'd pull him close a second later, kissing and licking at his mouth and then at the faint shadow of a mark on Justin's neck, so faint you only saw it if you knew it was there and where to look for it. Justin dropped to his knees, quickly popping the buttons on Brian's jeans, decimating the remnants of Brian's resolve as easily and as quickly as the man's cock slid down his throat. He watched, transfixed, then pushed Justin back and hauled him on top of Michael's bed, leaning over him and kissing his face, his lips, letting his mouth brush over his ears and wander down to his throat. Justin's hands grasped Brian's shoulders, stopping him. "No. Wait. They'll see...not there" He gently pushed Brian off the mattress and the rumpled bedspread until Brian knelt at the side of the bed. Justin wriggled over and upwards on his back until his shoulders were at the edge of the mattress and his head was tilted back, hanging upside-down over its edge. He reached for Brian's cock again, swallowing him deeper than before, mouth and throat aligned, hands reaching back to curve around Brian's ass, pulling him forward even further and then drawing him back. He let go when he felt Brian start to move of his own accord, hesitantly at first and then faster and deeper. Justin pushed a sleeve of his sweatshirt to his elbow and raised his hand to Brian's face, cupping his cheek, letting the inside of his wrist graze Brian's lips and then press against them. Brian closed his eyes, feeling the pulse under the smooth skin against his mouth. "Justin..." Justin moaned, fingers caressing Brian's face. Brian brought up one hand to grasp Justin's arm, and then the other and, after a brief moment of hesitation, carefully bit down on the soft skin, puncturing the inside of Justin's wrist. He groaned as the slick warm liquid immediately beaded around his incisors and then trickled freely from Justin's veins and over his lips as he probed the tiny holes with his tongue, sucking greedily as he thrust harder into Justin's mouth and throat. He swallowed again and again, dizzy from the overwhelming sensations coursing through him, electrifying warmth, the taste of copper and salt flooding his mouth, the tight sliding and pulling wet heat wrapped around his cock. He was coming and he wrenched his lips from Justin's wrist with a groan, pulling back, afraid he would choke Justin with his come even as he felt it being swallowed down his throat. Panting, he collapsed forward, face pressed against the firm plane of Justin's stomach, grateful for the heavy pulse he sensed there. Brian moved back, sliding both hands under Justin's shoulders and easing him over so he lay flat on the mattress, pale, eyes closed, his breath stuttering. Brian watched him, fingers caressing his face. "Justin," he said, and repeated the name again when there was no response. This time Justin sighed and turned his face into Brian's hand, skin cold against his palm. "Just a minute," he mumbled. "I'll be okay." Brian rubbed his eyes, slowly exhaling a sigh of relief. "So what the fuck do you think you're doing? Why are you doing this?" "Cuz I can," Justin said. His eyes blinked open, clearing, watching Brian's face. "That's not an answer. You're fucking crazy if you ask me, and I want it to stop." "Brian Kinney gives a shit. I knew it." "Fuck you." Justin had laughed then, touching his fingertips to Brian's face, undaunted when the man jerked back. "I am so on to you, Brian, when are you ever going to believe me?" Now Brian stalked through the flashing, thumping main area of Babylon, eyes roaming as he headed straight for the back room. The place was still relatively empty and he knew it would take at least two more hours before the rooms would be crowded. It didn't make any difference, he thought as he swatted at the curtain of chains sectioning off the way to the back room, sending several of the heavy strands crashing into the wall. There was no more time to pick and choose or to make idle chit-chat. The back room was almost empty, but he sensed the warmth of a single presence from the back, heading toward the exit, and moved forward quickly to cut the man off, whoever it would turn out to be. He saw the lone figure in the shadows, and as the man moved forward, Brian could make out his features in the dull light from one of the muted bulbs sparsely lining the wall. Brian grinned and his outstretched arm caught the man around the waist, whirling him around and pulling him back into the shadows, a look of surprise on the familiar face. "Hey Todd," Brian growled. "How's it going?"