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“Oh fuck, goddamn you,” Patrick panted into Fal’ran’s ear and pumped his hips against Fal’ran’s ass. Fal’ran followed the movement, moaning shamelessly at the feel of Patrick’s cock working into his crack. His hips grinding against him and his voice broken, Patrick dropped his forehead to the nape of Fal’ran’s neck. “Damn you.”
The moment Patrick’s arm relaxed, Fal’ran ducked out from under it.
Patrick reacted instantly, springing away when Fal’ran reached for him. “No. Don’t you dare.”
“We’re not done.” Fal’ran advanced, skirting the bench and Patrick’s ruined uniform jacket.
“We’re done if I say we are.” Despite his breathlessness, Patrick put a superior officer’s steel in his voice. He strafed the perimeter, eyes on Fal’ran, not backing up, but not advancing either.
“But do you?” Fal’ran licked his lips and flicked his eyes meaningfully to the impressive, mouthing-watering bulge tenting Patrick’s pants.
It had been a cocky move, taking his eyes off Patrick’s, and Patrick made him pay for it.
He lunged and caught Fal’ran around the midsection, slamming him into the wall of lockers. A deafening clang cracked through the building as the metal lockers shook. But Patrick had misjudged their flexibility and Fal’ran bounced off them enough to spin them around.
He pushed Patrick’s back against the lockers again, but as much as he loved the fight, he was too desperate to keep playing. A pounding need had replaced his pounding headache, and his whole body ached with it.
“Do you say we’re done, Patrick?” He pressed his heaving chest to Patrick’s, feeling the human’s heart beating against his own, and drove all his weight forward to pin him. He nosed into Patrick’s pulse point and breathed him in, all his arousal and his energy and his desperation, but he smelled fear and pain, too.
It was only those hints of fear and pain that had Fal’ran locking his hands around Patrick’s hips, instead of working his cock like he wanted to. They tasted bitter on his tongue. He didn’t know where they came from, but he didn’t like them.
“You can call time,” Fal’ran forced himself to say, the words thick as mud in his mouth. He didn’t want Patrick to call time on them, not again. Patrick had stormed in, eyes blazing, smelling of fire and brimstone and fury, and he had yelled—screamed—at Fal’ran because Fal’ran had almost died. In that moment, Fal’ran’s heart had latched onto him. It would never let go.
No one before had ever cared if Fal’ran died.
And Fal’ran knew it was pathetic to cling to the first person to meet the lowest bar of caring that they didn’t want Fal’ran to die, but he didn’t care because Patrick was kind, and patient, and strong, and he smelled like rain, but he still panted into his neck and flew into a rage when Fal’ran made bad decisions.
So, he didn’t want Patrick to walk away. He didn’t want Patrick to walk away when he couldn’t.
Patrick wrapped his arms around Fal’ran’s back and pressed his palms against Fal’ran’s bare skin. A shudder wracked his body. Dread tightened Fal’ran’s throat. He ran his lips along Patrick’s collarbones, desperate for as many touches as possible before Patrick pulled the ripcord on them.
“Fuck, Patrick, just call time and I’ll stop,” Fal’ran tried to growl, but his voice came out as a whimper. As a plea, but fuck it, he’d tried everything else. He pushed up the hem of Patrick’s tank with his thumbs so he brushed his callouses over the soft bare skin stretched over Patrick’s hip bones. “I’ll stop—”
“Don’t.” Patrick dug his nails into Fal’ran’s back, the blunt half-moons stinging. “Don’t stop.”
“Patrick,” Fal’ran breathed out on a heavy sigh, his anxiety collapsing out of him, and he nosed up Patrick’s jaw.
Patrick ducked his head to find his lips, and Fal’ran met them eagerly. The older man shook in his hands and Fal’ran tilted his head to kiss more deeply. But gently this time, without the teeth and the tusks. He didn’t know what made Patrick shake, nerves or need or both, but whatever it was didn’t stop Patrick from straining up into him and swiping his tongue across Fal’ran’s lips.
Fal’ran opened for him and dropped his hand to cup Patrick through his pants. Patrick gasped into his mouth and Fal’ran smirked against his lips.
“Fuck, that’s right.” Fal’ran curled his fingers around Patrick’s balls and rubbed the heel of his palm over the ridge of his cock. God, Patrick was so hard for him it made Fal’ran’s own length strain against the front of his pants. Was he wet, too? Fal’ran had to know. “Kiss me, Patrick.”
Patrick groaned and sealed his mouth over Fal’ran’s again, kissing him sloppily as he rocked himself into Fal’ran’s palm. Fal’ran let him plunder his mouth as he undid Patrick’s pants and, oh fuck—
Patrick’s whole body tensed and trembled, and he whimpered into Fal’ran’s mouth as Fal’ran opened his pants enough to slide his hand into his underwear. God, it was like the man had never been touched before. He raked his nails down Fal’ran’s back as Fal’ran fondled his velvety cock.
Fal’ran grabbed the back of Patrick’s neck with one hand and held him in a deep kiss as he wrapped his other around Patrick’s burning hot length. He wanted to swallow every one of his sounds; he wanted to taste his gasps and his whimpers. Patrick gave them to him, shouting into Fal’ran's mouth as Fal’ran pumped him once.
And he was wet.
Fal’ran rubbed his thumb over Patrick’s head and smeared the hot liquid bubbling from his tip around his crown. He dripped and pulsed in Fal’ran’s hand. Fal’ran had never been with a human, and he hadn’t known what to expect, but this fucking worked for him. His hand could almost swallow Patrick’s length whole, and he squeezed it again to feel it kick against his palm.
His own arousal begged for attention, wanting to thrust against something, anything, but Fal’ran ignored it. He worked Patrick’s length, making him shake and moan. Even with Patrick’s precum slicking his way, his grip was dry, but he’d seen how Patrick responded to pain.
“Fal’ran.” Patrick pulled from Fal’ran’s mouth to growl his name when Fal’ran rubbed along the thick vein under his head.
“That’s right.” Fal’ran pressed their foreheads together and stared into Patrick’s lust-blown eyes. “God, I’ve wanted you.”
