John regularly tangled with Death in every sense of the phrase. That apparently included in the sheets. After a particularly spirited night of passion, he lay down beside his partner, a grim reaper. A creature unseen by most but known by many. His touch was cold, sending shivers down John's spine as they pulled each other close. John breathed heavily as he looked at the man beside him. An ethereal spectre. Death itself.

The chill in the air never bothered John, in fact it comforted him. He gently kissed his lover's cheek and sighed in content, smiling as he ran his fingers over the reaper's arms. He could feel the power coming off the man in waves, permeating his skin and piercing his very soul. It was enchanting and terrifying all at once.

This had become a regular thing. In all honesty, John could feel himself falling deeper and deeper every day for the man. Falling for death. How bloody ironic was that?

His smile became an impish grin as he spoke "that was downright brilliant, luv."