Heart Shaped Box

Hot, warm lips spread over his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake behind as they traveled over Altair's chest. Lower and lower they moved, until sharp teeth closed around his hipbone, biting down and leaving red marks. He gasped, his head coming off the mattress as his back arched, numb fingers curling into short hair right above Malik's neck, his grasp as strong as if he were a drowning man, holding on to dear life. His second hand crept slowly to his neglected member, his digits curling around, stroking, pumping, pulling as he felt close to climax.

He was moaning now, sounding probably like a whore in desperate need – fuck it if it was true. Altair couldn't care less, the spiral of his pleasure going higher and higher, sweat standing on his brow, rolling down in small droplets over his jaw and down his throat, meeting in the small depression of his chest.

“Malik”, he whispered through clenched teeth, his hand speeding up.

Malik's palm hit Altair's, causing it to fall back against his bed and he whined, whimpered at the sudden loss only to sigh when Malik started to jerk him off.

“Is this how you wanted it to be?”, he whispered into Altair's ear and with a long groan he threw his head back, seeing stars.

For a while he was quiet, his semen spilled over his stomach and Malik's hand. It took him a while before he calmed down, able to form words again. He slowly blinked his eyes open, staring at his lover.

“Just like I imagined.”