“Use me,” he murmurs into the other man’s ear as he clasps the lithe body down in a seeming effort to melt it into his own skin, “use me to forget him.” The other man’s rich cascade of black hair brushes upon his shoulders and chest, creating a delicate sensation that is at the same time soothingly soft and wildly titillating. His petal-like skin presses down onto his own, hot and tense and demanding, a dancing fire of desire. Mikhail has never experienced the man's sexual energy cranked up full gear and it is proving diviner than heaven and more damning than hell. The sound of their kissing and the constant moan the guy is making are sending his nerves to outer space. The man is Siren’s song in physical form and Mikhail is falling willingly over the precipice.
But something he said has sparked the man off. His hazy eyes clear all of a sudden, and he presses back, still sitting on top of Mikhail, his face now a combination of alert and sudden confusion. “No.” He shakes his head. “No, I shouldn’t be doing this.” And he makes to flee.
Of course Mikhail will not let him. He catches him firmly by the hips. “What did I say? What’s wrong?” He's still trying to catch his breath as he asks these questions, and the urgency and need in his voice makes him mentally cringe.
“I’m sorry. I… I can't.” The other guy's face is flushed, he’s panting fast and hard too, there’re fine beads of sweat trickling down his chest and his hair is a divine mess. No. No way Mikhail is letting such a heavenly bird fly away.
“Fei.” He sits up with him and reaches for the other man’s face. His fingers trace the now dried tears on the man’s cheeks. So strong, yet so delicate. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I can’t do this to you.” The bird lowers his head, and a single tear falls upon Mikhail’s lower abs.
Mikhail takes him in his arms. “Haven’t you got used to it yet?” He coos him in a gentle lulling voice, and then breaks the embrace a little to take the man’s exquisite face in his big hands, “to how much I need you. To how much devotion this heart is capable of giving you,” he starts to cover the man’s face in kisses, “to how much I love you, want you, obsess about you, fucking worship you…” and he looks unblinkingly into the bottomless depths that is the man’s amethyst eyes. “I could give my life to you in the blink of an eye. My pride is the least of your concerns."
“No one should be loved this much. Least of all me.” The man looks away but fails to escape Mikhail’s hands. He’s clenching his hands tight in a fist as he tries to hold back his tears.
“Everyone should be loved that much at least once in their life. And if you don’t deserve it, I don’t know who does.” He declares in simple honesty and undiluted admiration.
And they kiss.
In the back of his sex-fogged head, the Dragon wonders, “how did we get here?"