The Four Horsemen 4 - Death by T.A. Chase

eyes, and something caught hold of him. Pierre slid his hand into Death’s hair and dragged the man’s head down to bring their lips together.
He expected Death to jerk away from him and berate him for kissing him, but Death did nothing except pull him closer. Their lips rubbed together in soft, gentle kisses. They were different from the kisses Pierre was used to getting from Lars and other men. They demanded he open for them. They invaded his mouth like there wasn’t any doubt he’d let them in.
Death teased and licked along the seam of Pierre’s mouth, asking for entrance. He didn’t demand or force. There was nothing except acceptance. Pierre pushed up on his toes, trying to get as close as he possibly could to Death without slipping under the man’s skin.
He gasped when Death grasped his ass and squeezed. Chuckling, Death swept his tongue into Pierre’s mouth, and Pierre tasted the whisky Death had sipped sometime earlier. Death ran his tongue over Pierre’s teeth.
Pierre wound his leg around Death’s thigh, wishing they were naked and he could feel all of Death’s skin against him. His lungs were burning for air when Death broke their kiss. Pierre hid his smile as Death rested his forehead on Pierre’s, trying to catch his breath.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Death pointed out.
“Why not? It takes my mind off the drugs.” Pierre tugged Death’s hair free of its tie and ran his fingers through the silken strands.

Chapter Six
    “I don’t want to be a substitute for the heroin. I can’t become your new addiction, Pierre.” Death set Pierre aside and stalked off, not happy with how he’d allowed his lust to take over. He searched his pockets for another hair tie and pulled his hair back into a tail again.
    He shot Pierre a glance. The younger man had his fingers resting on his lips with a stunned expression on his face. Death didn’t know if the expression was because Death denied him or because the kiss was just that awesome.
“You don’t want me then?”
    Snorting, Death strolled back to Pierre and grabbed his hand. He pressed it against his erection straining the front of his pants.
“Does it feel like I don’t want you?”
Pierre grinned with wicked joy, but Death shook his head.
“Just because I want you doesn’t mean I’ll take you. You have issues, Pierre. The first of which is your lack of impulse control. Your need to dull the harder emotions for fleeting highs like heroin or sex.” Death brushed a lock of hair back from Pierre’s face. “Trust me when I say I’ve been where you are. I didn’t use heroin or opium to soften the edges of my pain. I used alcohol, and by drowning my sorrow, I let someone I love down when he needed me most.”
“Won’t happen to me because no one needs me. I’m expendable, tossed away at the slightest whim.” Pierre winked at him. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not fun while I’m being used.”
Rolling his eyes, Death turned away from Pierre. He headed towards the door but kept an ear out for Pierre. The mortal followed him as he made his way out to the living room. Death dropped onto the couch, resting his elbows on his knees. Pierre chose to curl up in one of the large chairs flanking the couch.
Pierre’s skin was pale now with a grey tinge to it, telling Death the need was starting to build inside. Pierre seemed to be going longer and longer without having to shoot up. Maybe Lam and Day’s idea of weaning Pierre off the heroin was working, though there was going to come a day when Death didn’t have any more heroin to give Pierre. That day would be the beginning of a new life for Pierre, hopefully a clean and sober one.
“How did your phone call go?” He needed to take the conversation back to what was really bothering Pierre.
Pierre shrugged. “It started out okay, but ended like most of them usually do.”
“How’s that?”
After hearing just the tail end of Pierre’s part, Death had a good idea what Pierre meant.
“Jameson