Heaven and Hell

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: Joss is the creator of Buffyland, and I only write never ending short, vague, Faith-ficlets about sex in an alley.

Distribution: The Mystic Muse /mysticmuse.net 

Forever Faith: /mysticmuse.net/faith/indexfaith.htm

Feedback: I'd love it, but I wont beg...much (please?)

Spoilers: None.

Pairing: Buffy/Faith

Author's Notes: See Faith. See Faith rock. Rock Faith, rock.

I know what hell is.

Hell is a trailer park in Boston. Hell is only having your slayer strength between you and the men who came through that trailer park, with one thing on their mind. And I didn't always have my strength.

Is that where I'll go when I die? When I go into the one fight I wont win?

I guess I'll find out soon enough. We always find out too soon, don't we?

Heaven and Hell have different disguises. What is this alleyway we found ourselves in? Is it an in between? It's not bad, but I know it can't be good.

When I feel your lips on my neck, I know I like it. And everything I like never turns out to be good.

My hands roam your body. Waist, stomach, breast, back, waist, leg. I'm pushing you against the grim and filth of the alley wall, lifting your leg so it wraps around my hip.

I'm in control. I always have to be in control. Too many bruises and drunk 'uncles' from Hell to be anything but in control. You seem to understand this, allowing this, kissing the few exposed scars I didn't get from vampires.

I don't deserve the kindness and caress you're giving me, so I crush your lips with my own. I force your mouth open, shoving my tongue inside. I taste every inch of you before I move to the zipper of your pants. I'm hard and rough when it comes to sex. That's how it was taught to me in Hell.

But this is an in between, so I don't know if it should hurt or feel good. When you touch my breast, I arch into your hand, hating that it feels so good.

I reach my hand into your expensive khaki as your leg rubs against my cheap pleather. I shudder when I feel the sudden warmth surrounding my fingers. Does heat represent Heaven or Hell?

You kiss me and God-dammit if I care anymore.

Your moans entice me to move faster. In and out of you. One finger, two, three. God. Damn. I can't breath. I'm looking at you and blonde sweat soaked strands stick to your face. I see a small trace of your tongue through parted lips. A small trace of lip gloss I though I had licked away. Your eyelids are half closed, and I see your eyes through long lashes.

You're moaning again, and I go deeper. My other hand is working on your breast, pulling and pinching what I can. Frantically yanking your shirt up to get skin contact.

You tense, grabbing me into you, as the orgasm hits. You shove your mouth into the crook of my neck as you scream. I smile when I hear a muffled version of my name.

Then it's over. It felt like hours but it could have been minutes. Seconds.

You look straight at me with the most beautiful look I'd ever seen. You're glowing, but then again, you always do.

Your look slowly turns to seductive, and you're thinking how you're going to repay me.

I'm thinking that if Hell is where I belong...How the hell did I end up in Heaven?

The End

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