The dead Biot nearly drove Vincent mad.
It had been two months, and he still wasn't the same. Old Vincent wouldn't go out every night, coming back at odd hours in the morning, smelling of vodka and whatever perfume the latest one night stand had been wearing. Sometimes, Nijinsky could swear he smelled cologne lingering on his friend's body, a kind neither one owned.
Not completely mad, but quite close.
To be honest, Jin was a bit jealous. There was a time, before everything, when he though he saw something lurking behind Vincent's eyes, an emotion, hidden there just for him. But now, that had beenn replaced with emptiness so deep you could search for hours to no avail.
Jin's phone rang. It was a loud, no nonsense tone, unusual for his usual personality. He'd never really been one for fancy ringers. "Hello," Jin said into the speaker.
"Jiiiiiiiiiinnnnn. I'm outside. I forgot my key, let me in?" It was Vincent, and he was so obviously inebriated it almost pained Nijinsky to hear his voice. Pressing the end button, he walked to the door and tugged it open.
"It wasn't locked, Vincent." Jin watched as he walked to the couch, sitting while he stripped his coat off his shoulders, leaving him in a thin white dress shirt and loose tie.
All this time regularly going to bars, and he still wears a fucking suit, Jin thought, leaning against the doorjamb.
"Come here, Jin." Vincent was beckoning with one finger, while the other hand loosened his tie and expertly undid the top few buttons of his shirt. Slowly and cautiously, Jin made his way to Vincent.
The man wore a crooked smile, the one that only showed when he'd had more than way too much to drink. He grabbed a hold of Jin by his shirt, pulling him down. "Make me feel," he whispered into Jin's ear, lips brushing the sensitive flesh and making him shiver. He started to protest, but Vincent's lips moved to his neck and the words died right in his throat. His lips were just so deliciously warm against his skin, and he couldn't help but let out a rather wanton moan, sliding down to sit next to Vincent on the couch. His lips moved all over Jin, from his ear, alternating small nips at the flesh and the warmth of his pressing tongue, down to his prominent adam's apple, back up to his jaw. Vincent's lips hovered just millimeters away from Jin's, just for a moment before crashing them roughly down. He pushed open the other man's mouth with his tongue.
The kiss was sloppy, but Jin didn't notice. This was fantasies were becoming a reality. Clothes disappeared from both their bodies as the rolled on the couch, in a tangle together. Heat, sweat,and passion rolled off them in waves.
"make... me... Feel," Vincent panted. Jin didn't understand at first. he knew he couldn't feel pleasure, so what did he want? Vincent dug his fingernails into his own biceps, hard enough to draw blood. As the scarlet liquid bubbled to the surface, Vincent le out a moan that put porn stars to shame.
Of course. Pain was the closest thing to pleasure he could find. Jin wrapped his arms around Vincent, digging his nails in and dragging them down his back, eliciting another moan from the man. Biting, clawing and pinching, their highs came and went quickly. Vincent was asleep almost as soon as he was finished, and Jin smiled.
Vincent had felt.
Jin pulled a blanket over them, curling into the curve of VIncent's warm body. He drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the arms of a man he'd thought to be a rock. Emotionless, without feelings.
But he had felt something.