Something Like Desire

By the time he'd finished his cigarette, Vincent's brain had nagged him with enough of a guilt trip to make anyone feel like an utter prick. He growled in irritation at his own rationality and sense of moral, however twisted it may have been. He turned and quickly got redressed, moving out to face the storm ahead of him... both the elemental one and the one of Walter's obvious anger. For the life of him, Vincent couldn't understand why he cared so god damn much whether or not the half angel was enraged with him or not. After all, that was the point, right? Keep Walter on a sexual leash, but far enough away so that he couldn't bite back when scorned... Seems this time he'd pushed too hard and it was now a matter of reeling the reclusive blond back into his grasp... if only for a time.

The rain had picked up the pace and now seemed to strike at him with every step he took, scorning him for coming out amidst it's wrath. He took the streets at a slight jog, wanting to find Walter and get back to the church as soon as he could. Vincent was no fool either and he knew what lurked in the fog drowned streets of Silent Hill.. an evil was there that didn't sleep... a person's worst nightmare approaching them out of the fog to torment them in a moment of weakness. The priest was hardly scared of such phantoms, but none the less he respected the mark that a spiteful hate and thirst for revenge had left upon the ghost town.

He slowed his pace to a searching walk as he neared the edge of the far block, looking up past his rain spattered glasses at the street sign and sighing low, his clothes now drenched and an eerie chill working it's way down his spine. The brunette stood at the mouth of a dark alley, looking out at the fog shifting across his line of view and hoping to see a familiar silhouette moving through the wet mist. A surprised gasp caught in his throat and remained contained by the rough fingered hand that had emerged from the darkness of the alley behind him and covered his mouth, pulling him back into it's shadows only to slam him hard against the rusty wet brick. The brunette grunted and slumped against the wall for a moment as his mind made a little swirl of color blind him for an instant. He shook it off and gazed up at the dripping blond, his deep green eyes seemingly glowing in the darkness with a fire that burned within him.

“Foolish is the priest who walks out to blindly feed himself to the demons...”

Vincent knit his brows as he leaned back up, smirking at Walter's words and how his body tensed under his trench coat as the priest once more stood tall.

“Foolish? Some would call it brave... Call it faith...”

“You have no 'faith' Father... You don't believe in the words of your god... nor do you truly believe in Her.”

The brunette continued to smile, leaning more comfortably against the grimy brick and readjusting his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“It's not that I don't have faith, I do believe... But not in them, and not in their delusional teachings... I know there's something powerful out there... this town is proof enough of Hell. However, I refuse to deny myself the pleasures of this world.”

“You give in too easily to temptation priest! You're hardly fit to lead the sect! You're as tainted as...”

“As you?”

There was a pause between them, their emerald eyes raging against each other in the eerie eye of their own storm. Walter was the first to break eye contact, looking down with his fists balled tightly as the younger man once more began to speak in a truthful, but condescending tone, stepping towards him to brush his cheek.

“How quick you are to judge others Sullivan... You who have the manifestation of an angel inside you... You think you're above me because I choose to enjoy myself while I'm here...How quick you are to forget though...”

He leaned in close at this, whispering seductively into the blond's ear and his hand moving back to grasp the back of Walter's neck and keep him close.

“...Last night, you gave into temptation and desire just as readily as I did...And you were enraptured by it too... You're no better than me...”

Vincent's eyes went wide as the blond suddenly let out an enraged roar and lunged at him, throwing his body back into the brick wall again and his calloused fingers wrapping securely around his throat, squeezing the very life from him. Initial instinct drove the brunette to fight back, his own hands lifting to grab at the vise that bound him, blunt nails digging into the flesh of Walter's hands and arms and his body bucking against the wall to push the older man away. The killer's thumbs pressed skillfully into the priest's trachea, cutting off his air flow and causing the struggling man to go lax and silent, his eyes weakly staring at Walter through water spattered glass frames as his body submitted, instinct once more telling the body to calm so that their was less air needed to survive. Vincent wheezed in trembling breath as he was held at the blond's mercy, his nails still embedded into Walter's flesh as small rivulets of blood seeped out from under the crescent moon shaped gashes. Walter smirked in triumph at his dominance over the snarky priest, knowing that at least at the moment, Vincent had been shown his place and forced to stay in it. He leaned close, murmuring into the priest's ear as his knee pressed forcefully between Vincent's legs, pulling a weak gasp from him at the pressured caress.

“I never claimed to be a saint Father... Holding this spirit inside me wasn't my choice... but now... If I can get my mother back, I will finish the work I started...and no one... will get in my way.”

His tongue flicked out to catch a water droplet that was trailing down Vincent's cheek, his hot tongue following it's trail back up before he finished his statement.

“I won't let anyone hold me back... not even you, lover.”

His knee pushed up hard so that the brunette was nearly forced to sit on it, a choked cry of pleasure pushing it's way out of the younger man. The blond arched his brow in amusement as he murmured low.

“You're enjoying this... aren't you Vincent?”

The priest panted weakly, his air supply still too limited to voice a reply so he simply rocked his groin against Walter's knee and thigh, another weak groan escaping him in response. Walter watched him in bemused awe, the actions of the other man despite being suffocated causing a stirring of carnal desire in his own loins. He leaned in swiftly, crushing his lips into Vincent's and kissing him passionately, his own groan of approval resonating in his throat as he felt the brunette respond in turn, pressing into the strangle hold just to deepen the kiss. He was getting off on it, the threat of death completely arousing him. The realization made Walter giddy with lust and he released one of his hands from Vincent's throat to give him a bit more air and blood flow, the freed hand moving down and pushing unabashedly into the priest's soaked slacks, grabbing greedily at the hard, burning flesh beneath.

A curse pushed past Vincent's lips as his head arched back, the combined grip the blond held over him making his mind reel in both alarm and exhilaration. Vincent had never thought of himself as a masochist before, but the threat of such a personal form of death combined with the teasing of Walter's knee had excited him more than he'd imagined possible. He knew Walter carried a gun, and anyone could shoot a man if they really wanted them dead... but to strangle a person, it was intimate... you physically took the life from them, watched the light fade from their eyes... In it's own morbid way... it was thrilling, and obviously, the blond was getting off on it just as much as he was.

Walter had his head bowed slightly, wet, unruly bangs curtaining around his face and his breath escaping in puffed plumes as the temperature of the air continued to drop around them. His hand worked over the Priest's weeping erection with a slowness that could only be described as torture to the writhing brunette, his hand still gripping the arm of the hand that limited his oxygen intake, the other moving down to grasp desperately at Walter's waist under his navy coat. Vincent panted for breath, his body aching for a deeper breath, but the lack of a full lungful of air kept his brain deprived as well and the limited blood flow kept him in a hazy state where every touch was exaggerated ten fold. It felt unimaginably amazing... and the scariest part was, he knew he was slowly being killed by the same man that was setting him into a state of utter ecstasy... and he didn't care if Walter did finish him off right there. It was worth it...

Another cry of pleasure pushed it's way free as Walter tightened his grip and stroked more forcefully, Vincent's body bucking into his hand and trembling as if he didn't know whether to fight the assault on his trembling body or to simply allow his knees to buckle under him and hang prone from the killers strong grasp on his now bruised throat. The latter one proved to be more overcompensating and the brunette shuddered with a strangled yell as his weakened body gave into both the wash of pleasure and the blackout that quickly followed his climax, knees giving out and his body collapsing limply, only held up by Walter's hands.

The older man blinked in slight surprise, carefully removing his hand from Vincent's slacks to wrap securely around his waist and hold him up, the other one releasing his swollen neck and moving to the back of Vincent's arched back head to pull his lips into an utterly tender kiss.

“...Let's get you back where you belong Father...”

Walter smiled softly, hoisting Vincent's limp form over one shoulder and carrying him back towards the sanctuary of the Gothic church. Once inside the warmth of the towering building, Walter made the familiar way back into the secluded room the priest kept for himself away from the rest of the convent. He gave the brunette the same treatment Vincent had bestowed upon him when he'd brought the killer into his room, quietly stripping him and laying his bedraggled wet clothes up over the foot board of the bed near the dying fire. Walter turned to leave but paused, finding himself glancing back at the unconscious brunette and unable to deny the rather affectionate smile that slid across his peach lips. There was no doubt that a relationship beyond basic lust was developing between them. It was what had brought Vincent out into the storm after him this morning, and what had stayed the blond's urge to kill him in that ally. Respect perhaps had something to do with it... They were opposites, and yet very much alike... both headstrong in their personal ideals and morals, and both willing to risk all they had in order to form this haunted world into what they believed was of greatest benefit to them. Walter had to chuckle at how what they seemed to share the most was their own selfishness... Both men knew exactly what they wanted, and would stop at nothing to attain it, even at the cost of others... yet neither could fully triumph over the other and so they were stuck in a limbo like dance, each trying to lead, and each being forced to follow the other in turn, their positions constantly shifting against each other.

Shaking his head, Walter continued to smile and walked to the door, locking it instead and turning back into the room that now seemed welcoming, even familiar to him. He threw a few twisted logs onto the fire and re-stoked it to full roaring warmth, stripping himself in turn and tossing his clothes casually beside Vincents as he shifted to the bed and climbed in over Vincent to be closer to the wall, covering them both with the soft down filled blanket. The holy man made a soft noise in his throat at feeling the heat of another body near him and turned his back to Walter, shifting back to press himself flesh into the half angel's body so that their forms fit spooned against each other. The blond continued to smile, wrapping an arm around the younger brunette and tipping his head down to be nestled against Vincent's shoulder, letting out a plume of warm breath against his damp skin in a moment of sheer contentment and ignoring the nagging knowledge that such a feeling wouldn't last long. So he reveled in it for as long as he could, holding his companion close as the sound of crackling wood filled in the silence between the sounds of two men breathing in perfect time to each other.