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“About what?” Furi yelled. They were in each other’s faces, chest bumping each other.
“I don’t fucking know! About you. About me. About the damn Falcons' game last week. About the weather. About why there’s so many goddamn reality TV shows. About what-the-hell-ever! That’s what people do when they want to get to know someone!” Syn stepped back and gripped his hair blowing out a long frustrated breath. He felt so ridiculous, was so annoyed that he was seconds away from just walking away. “Fuck! I didn’t think dating was this damn hard.”
“That’s what you’re trying to do, Detective? Date me?” Furi’s tone and facial expression were full of skepticism. “Because I don’t want to date. Dating is stupid. What the hell is dating anyway? Some long drawn out process of elimination where you both present your best side while hiding the real you, and you can only keep that charade going for about three months because your bullshit and lies eventually leak out and then you have to spend the next three months getting to know each other for real.”
“Geez, man, you are insanely cynical. Do you always over-analyze everything? Why can’t we just–”
Furi cut him off, “Because. I’m only interested in gay men. Not men that might or might not be gay, or men that are looking for an experiment, or men that are fucked up in the head. I’ve been there. Done that, I’m never going there again. It almost cost me my li–”
Syn turned at Furi’s words. He walked back to him slowly. He could see pain in Furi’s eyes and Syn wanted to take it all away. Take all the hurt this man had experienced, and put it on himself, because he could handle it. All he wanted was to see Furi smile, see him uninhibited, full of passion. Full of him. Syn just barely held in his groan. He wanted this damn man. God help him, he did. He let out a slow calming breath and brought his hands up to cup Furi’s cheeks. He wanted to kiss him. Taste him. Feel Furi moan his name into his mouth and swallow it down. Fuck, he wanted that and so much more. Furi was looking hard at him, waiting. His eyes roamed Syn’s face before settling on his lips. Syn needed this; all he had to do was take it. Take it goddamnit.
Furi took it for him. Syn felt confident, sure hands on his own cheeks and soft, beautiful lips against his. Furi took Syn’s control. He knocked his hands down and grabbed the material of his jean jacket, pushing him up against the wall right there behind the pub, and then those lush lips were on him again. Taking him. Syn’s eyes were rolling behind his closed lids. Fuck, it felt so good. He could’ve never imagined how good. Syn wrapped his arms around Furi’s back and squeezed him close. He needed this contact more than he needed his next breath, needed Furi’s heat. Damn, he needed Furi's control. Syn heard moans and whimpers as he let his tongue dance with Furi’s. An erotic dance full of entrada and sacada flips. Fast then slow. Furi kissed like no one had ever kissed Syn. Strong, demanding; and he did it all with the softest fucking lips Syn had ever felt. Syn had dreamed of those plump, pink lips on him, on his mouth, on his neck, on his chest, on his cock. There the sounds were again, needy whimpers. Fuck, he was making those sounds. Syn wrenched his mouth away. He was embarrassed. He’d been moaning like a two-dollar hooker. He took in a hard breath, not meeting Furi’s eyes.
“Don’t turn away from me,” Furi snapped.
Oh God. Syn turned back. He’d obeyed. Fuck. Furi grasped the back of his head and took his mouth again. Syn felt his body go limp in Furi’s tight hold, letting himself just feel. He did what he’d wanted to do since laying eyes on Furi. Syn reached up and pulled the rubber band that held Furi’s long hair, releasing those beautiful tresses. He dug in with both hands and it was just as soft as he’d imagined.
“Say my name, please,” Syn moaned into Furi’s hot mouth. God, he wanted to hear Furi’s rough voice groan his name in the heat of passion.
The stubborn man just looked at him defiantly and claimed his mouth again. After Furi concluded the kiss of erotic Argentine Tango, he masterfully transitioned into a Viennese Waltz, his tongue gliding sensually over teeth and lips, making Syn swoon like a schoolboy with a crush. Furi eased off the kiss just letting the tip of his tongue skate along Syn’s parted mouth. Making Syn feel sexier than he ever had. Furi stopped torturously teasing him, waited for Syn to stop falling and open his eyes. Syn shamelessly chased Furi’s mouth, and ended up burying his nose in the man’s long hair. It didn’t smell sweet or citrusy like a woman's. It smelled clean and masculine, with hints of sandalwood and white musk. Syn didn’t want to come down from this feeling.
