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Yearning to Burn

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The increase in tourism meant that no one paid much attention to two white men, even this far into South America; at least, not for the most part. What usually followed them instead was superstition and rumor. Admittedly, both were fully justified because they had a habit of leaving buildings and fields burning in their wake as an unfortunate by-product of the passion that flared between them.

However, Claude didn't care if some farmer's drug-crop burned; the ex-cop within him still reveled in the power of seeing the Colombian drug lords wiped out of business. Of course, Hector was ambivalent about the whole thing, having been imprisoned for his part in a major drugs operation where the drug in question had the unfortunate side effect of killing mutants. For Hector, it was all about the burning; he liked to watch things burn, and Claude liked to watch Hector.

The only thing both of them had agreed upon was avoiding any unnecessary human casualties, though neither of them considered the violent, murderous enforcers of some drug lord as human. If the drug lords left them alone then Claude was happy enough to move on with just the occasional coca field burning behind them. If not then he was not saddened at adding a body or two to the flames.

Both of them had an interest in following the fallout from Magneto's plan to stop the humans from distributing the serum that would strip a mutant of his or her powers. Although Magneto had lost the battle at Alcatraz, it did appear that he had won the war, with a promise from the US President that the serum would only be given with the consent of the mutant in question, rather than forced on all of them. He had even pardoned those who had aligned themselves with Magneto, though not for the crimes they might have committed outside of the human/mutant war, so if either them returned to US soil then they would be sent back to prison.

Claude had no intention of ever going back; not while he had Hector.

It still seemed strange to Claude that, only months ago, he would have been fighting for all mutants to have the serum, and would have gladly taken it himself. Now, the very thought of giving up the fiery passion he found with Hector left him feeling as cold as the Antarctic ice.

Clad only in boxers and a t-shirt, he stretched out on the bed of the cheap hotel they'd found in the outskirts of Leticia, the southernmost town in Colombia. Most of the drug cartels had been driven out of the area by the Colombian government many years ago but a few still remained, using the Amazon to transport their illicit goods west into Peru or east into Brazil. Mostly it was tropical fish for the aquarium trade now, and Claude liked the colorful little fish found on display around the town.

The journey here had taken several days by river as they couldn't afford the extortionate air fare from Bogota, or even the speedboat from Iquitos. Instead they had traveled here on a slower boat, intending to carry on east into Brazil once they had grown bored with the small town.

Claude smiled, recalling the journey along the Amazon with Hector by his side, spending the days looking out across the river at sights he'd never expected to see in his lifetime. His old life seemed like a distant memory now, filled with so much darkness and hatred. In comparison, his new life was liquid fire, burning so bright and alive with passion and desire that he was surprised he had any hair left unsinged. He couldn't resist carding his fingers through his shorter hair and smiling, recalling all the occasions when their lust had set them both on fire.

He stretched a little more, feeling the tingle in his cells that told him Hector was close by; close enough for Claude to drip flames from his fingertips. He'd become strangely dependent on that sensation, feeling lost and cold whenever Hector moved out of range. Fortunately, Hector hated being separated from him too so that didn't happen too often.

Sounds from the tiny bathroom caught his attention and he began to imagine Hector slowly stripping for a wash. Carefully, he pushed down his boxers far enough to free his already stiffening cock, stroking himself with a pleasurable sigh before wriggling out of the boxers altogether and kicking them aside. With his hand wrapped around his cock once more, the molecular heat in his fingers warmed the silken flesh, leaving him poised on the razor edge of pleasure and pain. He knew he wouldn't be damaged so long as Hector remained close enough to ensure his cells regenerated even as they burned, but the danger was still enough to excite him. One hand cradled his balls, squeezing them gently, then rolling them carefully while he jacked himself slowly. As the pleasure built, he reached for the opened lube and slowly fucked himself on two slicked fingers; fresh licks of desire raced through him as a fingernail scraped over his prostate, while his thumb caressed the sensitive tip and he couldn't resist making small moans of pleasure. Molten heat ignited his blood when Hector opened the bathroom door and stepped back into their small bedroom.

Through lust-heavy eyes, Claude stared at his naked lover, at the broad chest with its smattering of chest hair, at the nipples that had hardened to points and the heavy cock slowly rising towards his belly. The tightness in Claude's chest and the heat warming deep in his belly sent wave after wave of desire racing through him. He knew he was close, and watching Hector stroking his cock to full hardness was the final push towards the edge that he needed. He fell with a harsh gasp, semen splattering across his belly and coating his fingers.

Boneless in the aftermath of release, Claude felt like a rag doll as Hector fell upon him, shoving his legs back before thrusting into his pliant, well-lubed, and open body. He gasped as pain mingled with the pleasure, the searing heat of Hector's possession sending fresh waves of lust dancing through over-sensitized flesh, their bodies rocking together until Hector cried out in his release.

With his body trembling from the exertion, Hector pulled out carefully before falling onto the bed beside Claude.

"Fuck!" He laughed softly, and Claude grinned, stretching again, though this time to feel the pleasurable ache of the well and truly fucked.

Once he had the energy to move, Hector brought back a damp washcloth but they both knew that only a shower would sluice off the fine layer of incinerated flesh, revealing fresh, unblemished skin underneath.

He laughed just as softly when Hector pulled him up and into the tiny bathroom with its even tinier shower, knowing it would be a squeeze for two grown men but liking the idea anyway. As he crossed the threshold, Claude glanced back at the scorch marks on the sheets. At least this time they hadn't set the bed on fire, quite literally.