Archangel_of_Pain
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Everything posted by Archangel_of_Pain
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Cam had felt the ringing of the phone more than he had heard it. Lying on his bed, staring at his dirty ceiling, he had been listening to the beat of his heart against his ribs. In this silence on his hard mattress, Cam had been waiting. Waiting expectantly. He knew it was only a matter of time before the little plastic demon screamed a shrill cry, summoning him to the ends of the earth to please a man with ice cold eyes. Despite Cam’s resolve that anything Aziel did would be wort
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Cam's first round of exams was done. He had officially passed the grade 10 level of high school. While his marks weren't straight A's, he was a pretty good student. Cam had never felt the same degree of pride in something as the day he got back his exam marks. It was like, 'hey, I really can do this! Jared had invited him over for some celebratory festivities. It was nice to see some of his old co-workers again, but Cam felt a stabbing pain when they asked him how he managed to af
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Cam didn't hear from Aziel for several weeks. He made sure to go to his classes, keep up with his homework, and try to force himself to study. He found that it really wasn't all that difficult; granted he wasn't getting straight A's, but it was better than he thought. He wondered if a lot of people simply didn't get their GED because they thought it would be too hard. Cam enjoyed the teacher, and he was starting to enjoy the company of a couple of his classmates. Nothing serious,
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Cam had spent most of the day walking the city streets and checking the newspaper. Living with Jared was fine for the time being, but he wanted to find his own place. Jared was starting to ask questions about the cell phone. When Cam explained that it was part of his new job, Jared's curiosity only increased. It was awkward; Cam didn't like lying to him about what happened with Aziel, and Jared was pretty good at picking up when Cam wasn't telling the full extent of the truth. Not
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The place smelled of lacquered wood and dry erase markers. In the small hallway there were numerous colorful posters that were advertising 'friendly' goings on around the community. There was a large poster that was saying some bar somewhere was having some dance for some reason. Cam looked at all the posters without actually reading them. He held the small backpack over his shoulder so tightly that his fingers were white. Several other people were milling around in the hallway. A
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Aziel was thankful to be back in his penthouse. Mark sighed and loosened his tie, looking up at the beautiful, aristocratic man. Mark's brow creased as he thought about the coolness in the other's gaze over dinner, and the abrupt, aloof manner in which they had departed. Mark was well aware of the impression that Aziel left on others. Tenderly, Mark reached out and touched the hand of the man that he had been in love with for two years. "I'm sorry you didn't enjoy dinner, Aziel,"
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Cam took all of the papers back to Jared's place in the same envelope that Aziel had given him. Jared was out when he arrived, but Cam knew where he kept the spare key. Checking down the dismal little hallway, he pulled out the loose board that was close to the door and retrieved the golden key. He put the key in the lock and slipped into Jared's simple apartment. Once inside, Cam looked down at the envelope containing the papers full of promises of a high school education. He cou
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Cam was sitting at Jared's house, toying with the red cell phone. When he had arrived to pay his boss the next morning, his boss had almost thrown him out the door. There was no reason for it, or at least none that he had given. Had that been what Aziel meant when he said that his boss wouldn't be a problem? Geez, to be fired from being a whore... how low can you get...? Now, Cam was sitting at Jared's house and wondering exactly what he had gotten himself into the middle of. It
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Two weeks after Cam's encounter with Aziel, Cam was standing on the street corner gazing at the passing cars. In the low light of the evening, all the windows looked like cut obsidian, black and unrevealing. There was a fine rain in the air, soft humidity that made the evening almost unbearable. The streets were damp and the average passerby was secluded and unfriendly. Despite the muggy weather, Cam felt a chill. Cam had shed his green coat and was instead standing in only a tigh
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The next day, Cam was sitting at Jared's on his low, broken couch. It was a comfortable old thing; low-slung and grey. It had a few blankets draped over it, and Cam was pretty sure that Jared slept here some nights, falling asleep in front of the static on the TV. Cam had his hands in his pockets of his green coat and his legs spread in front of him. He was wearing his tight, low-slung jeans and a dark shirt. The same attire that Aziel had seen him in earlier that morning.
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Cam was standing on the street corner a week later like nothing had happened. He stared at the traffic, wondering if the lump in the back of his throat was ever going to go away. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that shivering, shuddering form, wasted and slender, with frothing spit at the corners of his mouth. Cam shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat, trying to look sexy and fairly certain he was failing miserably. He really didn't want anyone to pull over now. C
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Aziel was sitting in a small, dark room down the street from a church. The church was old stone, marked with flying buttresses and beautiful stained glass windows. There was a large stairway leading up to the heavy ironwood doors. There were a lot of people on the front stairs, and three limos waiting on the street. He glanced at his watch. He had approximately five minutes until the sermon was over. A good note to go out on, Aziel thought grimly. He looked down at the sleek, smoo
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Cameron finds himself the victim of a deadly sexual game. Can he survive the violent affections of a man who loves control, where ultimate control means death?
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The evening was quiet. The large, picture windows of the penthouse looked over the shining city. Inside, all the lights were off save for one lamp on an end table. Two figures were sprawled on the couch, one with his head on the other's chest. Fingers were knit into the fine fabric of the other's shirt. It was a picture of peace and comfort; even the TV's noise was subdued. Mark sighed happily and snuggled closer to his lover. He had no words, not anymore, to express how he felt a
