Disclaimer: Mine, mine, MINE!! No takey! This contains material that may offend some people. Please don't take it personally. Morgan and Jamie are my babies, so don't kidnap them. Yes ok, yaoi, bdsm, angst this'll be long. So yeah. Enjoy.

Also thanks to Prof D, who is awesome and cool and I don't deserve her.

zan

Chapter 20: Come on Closer

So here's the thing. Morgan is not what you'd call a normal teenage boy. Sure, he's normal on the outside. He has his petulant mood swings; he eats like he's starving every few hours; sometimes he even leaves his dirty socks on the floor when he's too tired to even move. He's normal in that sense, except that he doesn't think that behaviour normal, so perhaps Morgan is not such a normal teenage boy in that sense at all but that is neither here nor there.

What makes Morgan so blindingly abnormal is the fact that he's never had a wet dream.

Ever.

Oh, he's had dreams before certainly. He dreams about white flowers, black dogs, pandas that can glow in the dark and ducks with arms that shoot cows from the sky. He's had dreams about getting wet too, running and running and running, trying to find shelter in a vicious rainstorm that dropped big red cars onto the pavement. Not once has he woken up in the morning with the bed sheets sticking to him unpleasantly and the vague memory of something good that happened during the night.

Morgan thinks he's having one right now but since he's never had one before, he doesn't really have a basis for comparison. He's astride a sort of pommel horse, sitting upright, head tilted back to accommodate the large collar encircling his neck. Feelings course through his body, little pulses of electricity pricking him all over his body, inside, outside, he can't tell. Feather-light touches trace over his body, so light it makes him ache, back arching in a perfect curve that's half more and half stop. Morgan's breath hitches erratically as the light caresses become more substantial, circling around and around before coming to rest quite decisively on his cock. His throat seizes at the overwhelming emotion, hands braced in front of him, scrabbling for purchase on the smooth surface as he…

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…feels the ghost of whispers in his ear. Filthy hot words curl around him.

Sit back, relax, I'll take care of you. So pretty, going to make you mine. Make you feel me from the inside, mark your skin red. Paint my name in you, on you, all over you.

Music plays, the notes sliding over his skin, the bass thrumming through his body.

Open you up, fill you till you choke on it, watch it drip out of you again, wanna fuck you so hard you feel me in your fucking mouth.

Morgan arches up; words playing him like a touch. Deep and smooth, aggressive in their dominance, soothing in their tone. God, he just wants to…

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…shut his eyes and look away, but he can't. He feels the embarrassment creeping up his neck and flushing his face. Two bodies, one small and delicate, the other strong and solid, are tangled together on a bed of black satin. Morgan presses his hands against the glass to steady himself, harsh breath misting it over.

The smaller one nudges the other into rolling over, so that he's straddled on top, like a feather on the earth. There's a flash of teeth, a predatory smile, as he lifts his lover's hands up and handcuffs them to the bed. He leans down and gives him a heated kiss, before trailing his tongue down his body, tracing the muscles he encounters before he reaches the other's cock, hard and leaking, pulsing and red.

He flips his black hair over one shoulder, giving it one long lick, from root to crown, swirling his tongue over the tip before taking it all the way down his throat. He bobs his head once, twice, fingers reaching back to his entrance, stretching himself for his blonde lover. He pulls his mouth off with a wet pop, flickers his eyes back to the other, who runs his tongue over his teeth, eyes sparkling in amusement. The smaller one struggles up onto his knees, positioning himself, mouth opening in a gasp at the first burn of…

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…alcohol, swallowing it down like sin. It's bitter at the back of his throat, like regret, like vengeance, like love. Morgan draws in a deep breath, and feels lips against his own. A tongue probes gently, tasting him, drinking him in like wine. The Black Angel makes a small noise, soft like a kitten at the faint traces of honey, cloves and something he can't quite place.

He pushes closer, trying to get more of that elusive flavour. His tongue delving into the other's warm mouth, stroking gently, like he's trying to coax out an answer. The taste changes, becomes stronger, more spicy. Still there's the underlying something that Morgan knows, wants more of, can't get enough of. The other pulls off, and Morgan pushes up to catch a last taste, put hands are on his shoulders, pushing him down. He licks his lips instead, a slow trace of tongue on red, swollen lips, the faint traces tickling at his brain and suddenly he knows…

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…that it's too early for him to be awake. His room smells musky, like a secret. It makes him blush from the memory of the dream, all feelings and a confused jumble of emotions. He peels back the sheets, making a face at how sticky they are. He blushes harder when he looks down on his stomach, trails of pearly white glisten in the early dawn light. The side of his neck tingles and warms, and he rubs it absently as he shuffles into the bathroom. As Morgan steps into the shower and watches the evidence of the of his dream swirl down the drain he thinks that he should feel somewhat violated. It doesn't really surprise him that he does not.

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author's note: Yeah...so what, it's been like...5 months? Or something? I'd make up a lame excuse but you all know it's just a lie. Um...someone asked me a question about why the characters weigh so little. . Morgan has a different bone structure to humans cause he needs to fly so his bones aren't so dense, same with most of the other characters, since they're not human.

Some other people in this universe weigh nothing as they're just projections of themselves. Others, like Sin eaters or other things that consume souls, weigh like 100kg, even though they're stick thin due to the weight of the souls that they consume.

Er...I'm not sure if anyone else had a question, I can't check cause my brother's blocked fictionpress so if you do, ask again and I'll answer in the next chapter. I'll try my best not to take so long this time.

Oh, and review? Please? Makes me write faster, like giving speed to a slug.

Lots of love

zan