Albeit Macabre

This is a one-shot I could not get out of my head, quite literally speaking. I had a dream about a portion of it (the dance, candles, etc.) and I saw no better way to satisfy my… creative subconscious than to write this.

Gomez readied himself for the impromptu Christmas party that Enrique had decided to throw.

Enrique was Gomez's best friend, next to his breathtaking gothic enchantress. He was Gomez's age, thirty-seven. Castilian and handsome, Enrique' chest was made of muscle, and he stood at six feet tall. He had tan skin, and eyes almost as dark as Gomez's. His hair was jet-black, but not slicked back like that of his amigo's. He wore dark colours, however his style was a mix of wealthy upper-class fashion and sexy rock singer.

Gomez always did wonder why Enrique never settled down and married, he was a good-looking fellow.

He sighed and put on his black tie with ivory stripes, designed like they had come from the cover of The Great Gatsby. Gomez looked at himself in the mirror. His washboard-like chest and stomach were covered, but he was still full of muscle. His olive skin, black, slicked back hair and big, dark brown, half-lidded eyes made for quite the handsome man. Back in his cad days, he was happily used to be arm-candy.

Gomez wore a suit with an ivory undershirt. He wore a suit-jacket with a tuxedo cut that was mainly black but was 45% covered by lighter and darker versions of an ivory colour, large, gothic and Victorian designs from the left in, completely covering that 45% with ivory. His pants were black, as were his socks and dress shoes. He put on his cologne, strong and sexy of scent, making him all the more alluring, especially to his wife, which was his only concern.

Morticia, not only love of his life and death, but his universe. No, Gomez's world did not just revolve around his beautiful Tish, whom he had been married to more than twenty years. She bewitched him the moment his gaze fell upon her at his cousin, Balthazar's funeral.

She was five foot nine, and her legs were skyscrapers. She was pale. She had the complexion of an apparition, Gomez liked to say. Her skin was as white as the recently fallen snow. Morticia's eyes were dark brown, entrancing Gomez every time he looked into them. Her ruby lips rarely ever curved into a smile, but when they did, it was usually because of the husband she adored. Her midnight black hair cascaded down to her upper back beautifully, straight but slightly wavy. Morticia was lithe, yet curvy in all of the right places, with a flat stomach and the measurements of 37"-23"-37". Gomez smiled and was reminded of how his querida's stiletto nails would scratch across his chest. Morticia's toenails were perfectly painted black. Her cheekbones were prominent, and her eyelashes, naturally were longer than the Mississippi.

Tonight, she wore a long, silk and satin gown, extending down past her ankles. It was long-sleeved, and tight at the waist. It was also ivory, unusual for Morticia but nevertheless beautiful. After the waist, the dress flowed. The dress was black with a deep and wide V-neck cut. There were gothic, Victorian, elegant, ivory designs all over the dress, some large and some small, but all enchanting, however not as enchanting as she was. It tied like a corset in the back with ivory laces. Coming off of the long sleeves, was a small bit of ivory, satin material that had black versions of the designs on the black part of the dress. Her stiletto nails were painted black, for a change. Her lips were still blood red and she still had her smoky eyes and cat-eye eyeliner. Her silky hair was very loosely curled at the bottom. She wore her eleven million-dollar, pure silver wedding ring with her nickname, Cara Mia, engraved in black, fancy and elegant font on the inside of it. Her shoes were three and a half inches high, and black with ankle straps. She wore no tights nor pantyhose.

Gomez approached his darling one, undetected as she was near her vanity, putting in her dangling diamond earrings.

Once he knew she was finished, Gomez embraced his darling black angel from behind, holding her close.

Morticia leaned back, instantly melting in his strong arms, feeling safe and adored in his tight, loving embrace. She craned her neck and let out a moan when his mouth met just the right spot, sucking it. "Mmm… mon amour."

Gomez, happy he satisfied his reina, finished with her neck for now and rocked back and forth, slowly. "Cara mia…"

Morticia smiled, turning to face him and wrapping her arms around his neck, allowing her husband to wraps his around her slim waist and draw her closer.

Gomez never had seen her in that dress before, it was beautiful. "My darling, you're enchanting."

"Merci, mon diable." Morticia replied, seductively.

Gomez gave an impassioned growl and kissed her, letting his tongue tango with Morticia's, his hands making their way down her waist and slowly moving to her ass.

Morticia moaned in his mouth and sighed, in love, when Gomez -gently but ferally- practically threw her onto the bed.

"Mon cher-" Morticia was cut off at her husband finding that spot on her neck again and she closed her eyes, in ecstasy. "Ah, je t'aime, mon sauvage." She was able to breath out.

"Te amo, mi encantadora." Gomez groaned against her pale flesh, biting down.

Morticia gripped onto his back, moaning. "Oh, do it again." She all but begged.

He did.

"Mon esctase… you're killing me." Morticia looked into his eyes, her delicate hand meeting his cheek. "It's five o'clock, mon diable."

Gomez looked at the clock on the wall. "Damn that Enrique and his impromptu Christmas parties."

Morticia sat up and gripped his chin, meeting his eyes once again. She played with his tie, looking at him with those eyes, purposefully teasing him. "And I noticed that clock stopped moving five minutes ago, it could very well be later and we have to leave at six." She said.

Gomez rolled his eyes and bit his lip, willing to let seduction take over him, not that he had a choice. "But…" He drew out the word and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. "If we don't leave this room, its almost like time stops."

Morticia paused, and looked away, briefly. "I think I need more of an argument."

Gomez squeezed her ass. Sadist, he thought. "At least it does every time I look into those beautiful black eyes of yours, mi corazón." He flashed a charming grin.

Morticia's nails ran along the back of Gomez's neck. She shook her head, smiling. "Why must you be so charming?"

"It works." Gomez replied, smirking.

Morticia rolled her eyes, running her fingers through his hair. "Everything works. Look at me the way you always do and I'm gone."

Gomez chuckled, Morticia's knees weakening.

"Pulling out all of the stops, are we?" Morticia asked, in reference to that laugh of his that drove her mad with desire.

"Quite possibly, yes." Gomez replied.

"Prends-moi, amour."

Before Morticia could say more, Gomez captured her lips and tongue once more, lying her back down. He pinned her arms above her head and planted rough, red hot kisses all over her. He fisted her raven hair in his hand and his lips and hands never strayed from her body.

Within a couple of minutes, their clothes were discarded.

Morticia groaned and arched her back, her hands above her head. She breathed heavily as Gomez's fingers skillfully moved inside of her.

She felt moans and gasps escape her and closed her eyes, rolling her head back. "Gomez…" His name left her in a weak, sensual cry.

Gomez then buried his head inside of her, and Morticia felt her knees weaken. "Gomez, please." Her breathing became heavier.

"Mi amore…" Gomez spoke and continued, feeling that she was close to the edge.

That was it. "Gomez!" Morticia shrieked.

Gomez crawled back on top of her and kissed her, an intense, passionate fire burning in his eyes.

"Mon amour… you're a devil." Morticia's breasts heaved as she breathed.

Gomez could not help but stare, but he looked back up at her. "Not just any devil, I'm your devil." He said.

Morticia smiled. "Oh, and you don't know how grateful I am for that."

Gomez entered her after a couple of more minutes of touching her and letting his lips and tongue access any part of her they could get to.

After their love-making, Gomez held her in his arms, the heat of his body contrasting to and warming that of her's, naturally ice cold.

He rubbed her back, massaging and kissed her forehead.

Morticia closed her eyes, briefly and nuzzled against him, her head burying itself in his shoulder.

Gomez's nails ran over her back.

Morticia sighed. "I like that."

Gomez kissed her. "I know."

Morticia, content, languidly draped her leg over him. "We're going to be late for that party, darling."

Gomez smiled, having succeeded at making the woman he adored in his arms happy. "Time stopped, remember?"

Morticia still did not open her eyes, saving her energy for the party. "I love you."

Gomez's lips met her shoulder. "I love you, too, Tish."

They stayed like that, content and naked in each other's embrace, when their faithful butler, Lurch walked in.

"We're leaving in fifteen minutes, Mr. and Mrs. Add-" He looked up then and gulped.

Morticia's eyes enlarged and Gomez pulled up the blanket.

Scarred, Lurch groaned and shook his head. "Thirty, then." He said, before walking out and shutting the door behind him.

Gomez and Morticia simply laughed it off and re-readied themselves.

The couple, ten-year-old Wednesday, Mama, eight-year-old Pugsley and Lurch packed into the family car and began their late start to the party. All the way there, Gomez held is beautiful encantadora.

Finally, about a half an hour late, the Addams' arrived at Enrique's house.

They grabbed their lit candles, which were requested on the invitation. It was not going to be a terribly large party despite Enrique having a terribly large house.

Enrique lived on his own with his German Shepard, Killer. He only invited the Addams' and the friends from Gomez's bachelor party, which were not coming until about 7:40 pm.

Gomez and Morticia, heading the family, walked through the mansion, white with weapons lining the walls, a mix of Dracula and the Queen of England.

They got to the grand hall, a large ballroom at the end of the house with very high ceilings, a white, porcelain and marble floor, large windows and ivory walls. The room was shaped like the ballroom it was, circular. There was a large evergreen tree in the corner, with a silver, bloody star decoration on top but no ornaments.

Gomez heard a waltz playing but saw his friend, not. He instructed the family to look for his friend and seizing the moment, took his black goddess in his arms. "Tish?"

Morticia looked up, questioningly.

"How long has it been since we've waltzed?" Gomez asked, getting into position.

"Oh, Gomez," Morticia looked away, briefly. "Hours."

Gomez wrapped his arms around her and begin to dance around the room with her.

He saw only her as he dipped and twirled her, smiling and looking into her eyes.

Time truly did stop that night, and they noticed not when the family walked into the room with Enrique, and simply watched them, enraptured with each other.

Gomez would break position once in a while and kiss Morticia's delicate hand or her crimson lips, but mostly, they danced. They danced for a half an hour, just the two of them, in their own, beautiful world together, albeit macabre.