Something Like Desire

The heavy rain continued into the late morning, the fire having burned down to mere cinders in the stone pit, not that the two men had noticed it's diminished heat, their own flames keeping each other hot to the touch. The almost carnal passion that had continued to drive them throughout the night and into the hours of the morning was driven by a sheer need to fill the ache of a loss of connection to the rest of humanity that had occurred in both killer and priest. Both men had lost touch with the world they belonged to, their experiences having jaded them to the dream like world they passed through... Silent Hill was cut off half the time... once there, it was pointless to have delusions of leaving... It could drive some men to kill... others to deceive...

The rain pattered in a lilting manner against the glass, a cold mimic to the warm beads of sweat that made their course over the dips and curves of flexing muscles. Both Walter and Vincent were far past weary of their lust driven connection, a fear of loosing that bond that had separated them from all others for so long being the only thing left that kept their bodies moving in unison. Both could no longer keep themselves from giving into the wash of pleasure and the achy weakness that followed as they lay against each other, eyes closed and panting with painful harshness.

Walter held Vincent over his chest with limp arms wrapped around the priest's damp shoulders, his body raw from the exertion of his first all nighter and his weak embrace queuing the other to not move for a short time until his tense muscles had relaxed once more. Vincent complied without argument, his own body far too drained to consider movement at that time as it was. His breath came softer as he found himself matching the rise and fall of Walter's chest. His own heartbeat drummed in his ears and his whole body seemed to be pulsing for a few blissful post climatic moments. His emerald eyes opened just slightly under heavily hooded lids as he felt the blond's rough fingered hand shift to brush back his damp bangs that had plastered themselves to his forehead hours ago. It was a comforting caress he was unused to... The touch of affection... Vincent's brow furrowed a bit at that thought, uncertain of where they stood now.

Lust had driven him initially, had blinded him to his better judgment and forced him to ravish the blond he'd given the taste of sin to so long ago... But had it been only that? Or had more developed within the hours they had just spent entangled against each other? ... Passion perhaps? Compassion?

No... that would be admitting that he had feelings for Walter that went beyond a simple primal if not blasphemous yearning... And he didn't truly feel for the killer... right?

The priest cursed bitterly to himself, pulling away from Walter's embrace and pulling himself free, his eyes flickering to the blond as a pained hiss escaped his lips, the older mans face contorting into a momentary wince of discomfort. He was raw... and understandably so... Vincent murmured a faint apology before standing and moving to pull his plain, light gray boxers back on to cover his nudity, walking to his vest on the desk chair to fish out a cigarette and light it, inhaling it's additively bitter smoke.

Walter leaned up on his elbows, watching Vincent with inquisitive, haunted eyes. Vincent couldn't meet his gaze for more than a few moments, knowing the blond was not a fool, even though often foolish. Walter knew the tension when he felt it, and the slight hardening of his face and the disdainful grimace that pulled at his pale lips only affirmed in the priest that his standoffish behavior had once more driven the safe, if not very comfortable, wedge between them. Walter turned stiffly on the bed, reaching over for his clothes and standing with another wince to pull them on. All this was done without a word shared between them. Yet, as the killer's fingers grasped the handle on the door, the brunette's voice murmured to him from behind as Vincent gazed out the window.

“You said you'd stay until the storm had passed Walter...”

The other man felt his hand tremble just slightly and tightened his grip on the metal latch, murmuring back.

“I never promised you anything Father... Besides, it seems to me the storm has found it's way within these walls... I'm no more sheltered in this room from you, then I am from the rain out there...”

Vincent's eyes slipped closed with a bitter regret as he heard the latch lock click back into place as the door closed behind the only man he'd connected to in all his life... Only man that understood him... as unfortunate and unlikely as that was. He opened his eyes again weakly and leaned on the suddenly bitter cold stone of the window sill, his breath catching at the cold bite against his skin. He ruefully pulled another drag on his addiction that could never crave him back, weakly watching the form of the one that could walk down the steps of a church that faithfully held their secret within it's unspeaking walls.