Warning: (semi) mature content
Mew made a tentative approach towards Gulf and this time, the younger man did not retreat, but watched him come to him, chest rising and falling with each exaggerated breath. When they stood opposite one another, Mew raised his eyes to Gulf's, searching, questioning.
"Is this ok nong?"
In reply - he was truly a man of actions rather than words - Gulf raised a hand to the elder man's face, wet with rain, and traced his fingers silently along the handsome features. The bridge of the nose, the strong brow, the closed lids of his eyes, then the structured jawline and firm, wide lips.
Yes, if Gulf was all curves and arches and softness, Mew was a creation of straight lines and taut muscle. Except for his smiling eyes, which raised into twinkling crescents to light up his whole face.
But now those eyes were closed, the lips slightly parted, savouring Gulf's touch. His fingers brushed the light honey skin so gently that a trail of tingling was left in their wake. Mew's body begged them to come back, wondering if it had all been a sensory illusion.
Staring intently, ethereally feline in his gaze, Gulf tilted his long neck to one side and then the other, as if studying the face before him, committing it to memory. A sculptor with his most treasured creation.
Lifting his eyelids at the absence of Gulf's hand, Mew felt he was overcome with tenderness. Running a hand through the younger man's damp, wavy hair, he rubbed his nose gently against Gulf's in a soft Eskimo kiss, before moving his lips to scatter kisses across his cheekbones, his soft cheeks, dimple, and over the jawline onto the neck. He then shifted very deliberately to the centre and kissed, long and firm, at Gulf's pronounced Adam's apple.
Gulf tensed slightly. Had anyone ever touched him there before? It felt so...sensual. They were worshipping one another.
And finally their lips could meet in a kiss. Open mouthed, slow, soul-bearing. Full of feelings, feelings that had planted as seeds on the night they met, and now sprouted and grew taller, preparing to bloom and be known, be named, one day soon.
As their scent glands triggered over and again, pine forests and cherry blossom orchards blanketed the room in a dark green and powder pink haze. The kiss grew deeper, harder, more insistent, and hands began to roam and stroke and knead. Breathing quickened, heart beats drummed.
"Gulf", Mew breathed against his ear, "We need to go now, before we can't stop. Do you want to come back with me? We can take suppressants so that we can talk to each other with clear heads...".
Gulf steadied himself against Mew's shoulder and nodded.
"Yes Phi, let's go now"
His voice was softer, Mew thought, or had he imagined it? No, it was softer.