Kill Me, Kiss Me

THIRTY THREE

THEO'S fingertips lighted upon the back of Keir's hand, skimming past the knuckles and fine bones. A soft intake of breath disturbed the air, and Keir's hands pressed harder against Theo's eyes, curving across the bridge of his nose. Each arc of the palm pressed deeper as if to imprint the shape of his sockets and brow into memory.

Another soft sigh creased the space, and Keir drew the pads of his thumbs over Theo's eyelids, once, twice, thrice, again, again, they slid gradual but heavy.

The breath caught in Theo's throat, and his chest hitched against the tender touch. His tongue pressed against the sharp edge of his own teeth, but his words found no route to break this heaviness. This scent of Keir's being, the touch, this shivering air between them, it crashed into his body and mind, until he was pinned down under its crushing weight.

Theo's fingers travelled sharply down from Keir's hands and snatched at his wrist, the ridges of bones and veins printing hotly into his skin, into his brain. Keir's face snapped into stark brilliance before him, and in the half breath where he was still clutching those hands, skimming that drunken expression, Keir's mouth captured his.

Red hot and demanding, Keir's tongue raged through Theo's mouth, deep, deep, it sought for more even as it curled through every surface. Keir's hands broke through Theo's grip, and they tangled into Theo's short hair, wrapping around the back of his head and locking him on the chaise. Burning pants of air blew over his cheek as Keir pushed his nose harder against his, tongue probing the roof of his mouth in circular dances.

    Clarity of thought blurred into indistinct shapes that pressed against his skull. All he could feel was the seizing coil in his abdomen, and the blazing movement in his mouth, the tingle in his hands, the pressure on the back of his head, the soft feathered shadow of Keir's eyelashes sweeping over that marble flesh as those eyes shuttered close.

    Crack.

    Something threading through him, holding him in? Holding him out? Something broke cleanly in two, and his fingers seized Keir's neck, thumbs pressing against the bump of his Adam's apple, the rest curving through his hair against the back of his hair. Hurt him! Punish him! Theo gripped harder and drove deeper against the man, twisting his tongue as ferociously, more, more. He pushed, thrusting against the hard smoothness of Keir's teeth, the soft moistness of the inside of his cheeks, the outline of the roof of his mouth. Half standing, he burrowed his fingers further into the silky strands of Keir's hair, tugging at the strands without mercy.

    Accidental? On purpose? He did not know. He did not care. He fought, burning under the heat trailing down the corner of his mouth, his chin, his neck. A burst of salty iron expanded within his mouth, but he could not stop. Was it his blood? Keir's blood? He could not tell, it was mingled between them and no longer separate. Merged. A guttural growl vibrated through his mouth, and he returned it with a snarl of his own.

    A hard grip clutched at the back of his neck, and a sharp knife of pain sliced through Theo's neck. He gasped and broke the free from Keir's mouth, panting for air as the dark spots receded from his vision slowly. Keir's laboured breath merged with his as Keir leaned back just as slowly, black eyes glittering hazily open. A smudge of crimson as dark as the colour flushing his cheeks beaded on his lower lip, a shining dew of blood.

    "I hate you." Theo murmured hoarsely, pulling back from Keir's arms, pulling back that cracked thing.

    Keir blinked dazedly as if not understanding what was said. His eyes flickered over Theo's face, tongue flickering out to catch the blood blooming on his lip.

Had it even registered? Had it passed through those ears past that electric hum? And if it had, had it settled upon his mind like the words they were meant to be? Keir did not look at him like it had. That gaze enveloped him like those words had meant something else.