fire starter //
Nick pulled back to catch his breath and look at Allen lustfully and impatiently, counting the seconds before he got freed from the unnecessary fabric and was able to move his arms again. They immediately went down, his long fingers fiddling with Allen’s belt, slower than Allen might have liked it. Nick was glad that they were barely illuminated and too close for Allen to see every inch of his pale torso clearly. Apart from his new tattoos, there were fresh bruises splattered over it, his forearms covered with cigarette burns and marks the needles had left on them. He shivered due to the cold which embraced his bones, so he desperately moved closer to the other male. “Please”, Nick whined against Allen’s hot mouth, exhaling shaky breaths into it. “Please, daddy, fuck me so hard.” Rather feminine moans left Nick’s parted lips as one of his hands gave up on the belt and moved down, giving Allen a harsh rub. The blond couldn’t take the torture of having him so close and not kissing him, so he reconnected their mouths and allowed his pierced tongue to wander and tease the other. It was then that Nick had put together the ironic metaphor in his head. Of all the drugs, none damaged Nick as much as the younger chap did, but none gave him such powerful rush either — he was hooked on both physical feeling Allen gave him as well as the fire in his chest more than on any substance. Allen was his poison of choice and Nick was glad that he had chosen something so beautiful to kill him.
Allen thought about snapping at Nick, telling him to fucking hurry up where his hand seemed to be moving slower than a snail at his belt (it was his first instinct, after all) because he was fully hard and yearned for touch. He refrained, and the only reason why was because he distracted himself from it by ducking down beneath Nick's chin and attaching his mouth to his neck, teeth sinking in instantly, biting him hard enough that he knew there'd be a mark as soon as he drew back. He didn't, though, just sucked at the spot for a bit, up until the need for his lips to be pressed up against the blond's grew irresistible. To say that Nick's words simply 'affected' him would've been an outstanding understatement at that point. God -- Allen would've deemed them equivalent to pouring gasoline all over the floor and tossing a lit match into it. The boy was his biggest weakness. "You're so fucking hot," he whispered into their intimacy, his hips rocking up to chase the gesture he'd received from Nick's hand, grunting at it. As soon as he was kissing him again, everything even slightly out of place fell back in. It was in that moment that he gave up trying to deny that he'd have kissed Nick forever if it was possible. There wasn't anything he wouldn't have given to be able to do that; Allen swore.
His hands had been wandering the skin of his upper body, placed on his shoulders at that particular moment, moaning into his mouth softly as their tongues reacquainted themselves after far too long of a departure. The tip of his own played with the underside of Nick's piercing, finding it extremely attractive (what didn't Allen find attractive when it came to him, anyway?). He'd missed that thing. Distractedly, he pulled his hands away from the other boy and reached into his back pocket for his wallet, breaking the kiss by accident, but at least he'd gotten out one of the lube packets. Allen had it torn open within seconds, and almost just as quickly, he had Nick's jeans unbuttoned and had gotten his dick out from beneath his boxers. Once one of his hands was coated with the liquid, he'd wrapped it around his cock, stroking him earnestly from the start. It was then that he leaned in to bring their mouths together again, his free hand grasping Nick's throat and Allen wasn't too sure how it'd gotten there but he definitely wasn't complaining. "When's the last time you got fucked, huh, baby? Tell me."














