fifty ways to kiss someone.
roll: 12, …in grief.

There was blood everywhere.

On his hands.  On his knees.  His chin.  Inside his mouth.  Coating his teeth and tongue in a taste that went beyond sweet, beyond intoxicating and dug deep into his soul as his hunger was sated and the pain began to fade.  He’d fallen with his victim, crouched in the dark alley between the docks.  Around them the air was thick with seaweed, dead fish and damp.  The muck underneath his expensive trousers was seeping between the threads and he could feel press cold against his skin.  What he didn’t swallow still dribbled out of the holes he made with his teeth.  Blaine’s hand lifted up, his upturned palm pressed between his lips parted his jaw and made the sharp edges dig into his flesh.  Crimson lines ran down the neck he stared at mixed with the rainwater and muck that made the scenery all too perfect for his crime.  

Adam had wanted to make the experience pleasurable.  A lie that might disguise what he’d done seem beautiful and soft.  The pitiful human who easily gave themselves over to Adam’s old world charm.  Like he did for so very long.  Only he was ‘lucky’ enough not to die for his yielding.  His talent, companionship and beauty, as Adam put it, sparing him his life and from becoming another heap of bones forgotten at the bottom of the Hudson River.  So, he ran.  Trying to escape the hunger and the pain and smell of the drunken man Adam steered into the room he’d been balled up in the corner of.  He ran and ran until a hum, clink, hum, clink stopped him in his tracks.

The hammer swung up and crashed down.  Up and down.  Oil burned from lamps inside the blacksmith’s rickety bayside shop.  But the usually pungent smell was lost on the whiff of something far more alluring.  Copper and sweet cream.  Damnation and relief.  They screamed inside Blaine’s veins before clamping into them with nails and claws tearing him apart and tugging him inside.  A pair of dark eyes peering above puffy, dirty cheeks greeted him with a confused but welcoming smile. Everything faded.  A scream brought him back long enough that he registered they were running.  Then everything went upside down and pitch black as ecstasy ran into his mouth and he pulled and pulled and pulled.

The blacksmith was dead. Vacant eyes stared up at him, mouth contorted in a final howl that his ears refused to hear.  Blaine choked.  He felt sick.  “No, no, no, no,” frantic hands began to squeeze at the man’s neck trying to stop what was left.  A stupid and fruitless attempt to right his wrong.  A snap of bone and he wrenched his hand free, staring at it like something that strong couldn’t possibly belong to him.  “No, please,” and he lurched forward only to be snapped backwards, feet lifting off the ground with the speed of his backwards trajectory.  Terrified as he was turned around, the sight of Adam kicked a sob from his gut and he pointed down at the body, eyes screaming see what you made me do?

How they ended up kissing, Blaine was sure it was his doing. A soft touch to his cheek and his heart broke in two.  The only thing he wanted was the taste gone and Adam to swallow up his world, take that sight away, make him forget.  He was good still.  Not the monster on his knees trying to dig out a shred of life from the mud and somehow smash it back inside the man he murdered.  Their mouths moved with a familiar cadence, his opened for Adam to kiss him deeper like he had a many times before.  Like nothing bad ever happened, like Blaine needed him.  And he did..oh God..he did.