Really, he knows the answer. They've been playing for the last month, little touches, secret smiles, but never more. He's always wondered what it would take to make Raven go for it. Now, here in his hotel room, he wonders if it's the best idea he's ever had.

Raven crouches, his curly hair partially covering his face as he regards his prisoner. He'd planned this, luring him into a false sense of security, even as his body's been inflamed by the soft touches. He finally moves, smirking as he perches on the side of the bed.

Cyrus holds his stare, challenging, refusing to back down even as Raven trails a fingertip down his throat, to his chest.

Raven chuckles at that look, so very pissed off, so very helpless. One finger trails to the button of Cyrus tight jeans and plays with the button absently. "Want something?"

Cyrus tilts his head, one eyebrow quirking up as he asks dryly, "What do you think?" Raven's smirk grows wider as the buttons give. He looks at the newly uncovered skin and bends slowly, letting his tongue touch the warmth.

Cyrus hisses out a breath through his teeth as Raven's mouth drifts, whisper light, over his collarbone. Raven raises his head, amused. "Enjoying this, are we?"

"Fuck you, Levy," Cyrus manages. Raven nips his collarbone sharply, drawing a sudden gasp from the smaller man. Raven trails his hair up over Cyrus' chest, nipping his throat.

"I appreciate the offer," he murmurs, idly fingering the mark left by his teeth and making no move to soothe it. Reaching down, he yanks with sudden fierceness at the last few buttons still fastened. They tear apart, skittering across the floor. "But," Raven continues, his voice a dangerous purr, "in case you haven't noticed, you're the chained one. I'm making the decisions. Get it?"

Cyrus fights the urge to flinch, to show any of the alarm he's suddenly feeling. "You think?" he smirks. Very slowly, he lets his tongue trail over his lips, holding Raven's eyes. Raven's eyes flutter shut for a moment, trying to find his suddenly elusive self-control. "What?" Cyrus taunts. "You can't take the heat, Scotty?" His voice dries in his throat as Raven's eyes
snap open, blazing amber in the dim light.

He tenses instinctively, bracing himself for a rough slap or a punch across the face. When Scott only gives a slow, dark smile, Cyrus blinks, caught off guard for a moment. For some reason, he gets the feeling that he would have taken the punch better. Still smiling, Raven reaches up and touches Cyrus's cheek, tangling it in his dark hair when the other man tries to jerk away.

"Ah, Cyrus," he purrs, "are you sure I'm the one who won't be able to handle the heat?"

Cyrus stills at the light touch of Raven's full lips to his. The first slick touch of his tongue makes him jerk, clenching his teeth against the invasion. "Open for me," Raven growls. Cyrus shakes his head, wincing at the fingers still knotted in his silky hair. "Open," Raven says again, more forcefully, nipping at his tense lower lip. "Or I'll make you wish you never pushed it."

Glowering at him resentfully, Cyrus struggles to ignore the sudden interest his body had taken in the heat of Levy's hips pressed against his. With an impatient growl, Raven tugs on his hair again. Cyrus glares, then with a sudden snarl untenses and tilts his head back. Raven chuckles, undaunted by the fury in Cyrus's eyes, and lowers his head, covering his lips in a hungry kiss.

Cyrus lay still for a moment, fighting against the urge to melt into the slick touch of Raven's tongue. Just as Levy's tongue flicks over the roof of his mouth, he bites down on it hard enough to draw blood. Raven rears back, snarling down at the smaller man. "You're going to regret that."

Cyrus rolls his eyes. "Like I said, Mr. Polo," he stressed. "If you can't stand the heat... Get out of the kitchen." Raven's eyes darken, and he braces himself for pain. This time, Raven doesn't disappoint, backhanding him almost casually, before leaning close.

"Do you really want to see how much heat I can generate, Jackal?" So saying, he trails the tongue stud over one taut nipple before nipping hard. Cyrus sucks in a quick breath, unable to hide his wince. He can still taste Raven's blood in his mouth, metallic and heady, overwhelming him.

When Raven moves to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment, Cyrus clenches his jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. Pressing a hand into Cyrus's flat stomach, Raven stares down at him like a predator as he pinches one of his nipples hard. "Is this what you wanted, Jackal?" he taunts. "Is this what you were trying to make me do? Do you like it rough, 'baby'?"

Cyrus glares up at Raven trying to quiet his rushing thoughts. He focuses on his ragged breathing, forcing it into a semblance of normalcy. Raven's hand slides idly over his stomach, over the waistband of his jeans. He can't help the flinch when Raven squeezes the bulge in his jeans.

Raven smirks triumphantly down at him. "Well, we can't pretend that this isn't getting your...oven hot, can we?" he murmurs, squeezing just short of brutally.

Cyrus remains stubbornly silent, looking anywhere but the tall man bending over him.

"Playing it that way now?" He leans up, resting his forearm over Cyrus throat, and letting his lips roam over his jaw. "I can make you burn, Cyrus."

Fighting not to meet the amber eyes he could feel burning into him, Cyrus grits, "Go to hell." When Raven only chuckles low in his throat, his tongue flicking out to slide over Cyrus's jugular, he stiffens at the rush of warmth.

This isn't getting to him. It isn't, damn it. As if he hears the thought, Raven raises his eyes and tilts his head. The soft brush of his hair over the sensitive skin of his throat makes Cyrus close his eyes for a moment. "Odd," Raven notes casually, forcing Cyrus's chin around. "Methinks thou doth protest too much. What's the matter?" Grinding his palm against the bulge, he murmurs, "Afraid you'll like it? Afraid you'll beg? Afraid you'll come screaming my name?"

"Which one?" Cyrus shoots back, pretending not to notice the tremor in his voice. "Should I scream for Scotty Flamingo, Scotty the Body, Johnny Polo, or Raven?" He glares, ignoring the way his hips are arching to meet the near painful touch of Raven's hand.

Raven smiles savagely. "You've got a smart mouth," he comments, pinching his nipple roughly. "I think we're going to have to teach you a lesson, Jackal. A lesson about playing with fire." He bends low, biting his earlobe with a barely restrained savagery.

Despite himself, Cyrus can't help the little whimper that slips through. He stares as Scott stalks from the room, wondering what he's gotten himself into this time?

He can hear rustling from the bathroom, but no matter how he cranes his head whatever Scott is doing is out of his range of vision. Frustrated, he looks towards the other side of the room, trying not to look at the mirror beside the window. The curtains are drawn, the blinds down. There's no way for anyone outside to see what is going on inside the room. A few minutes ago, when he was expecting just a simple fuck and run, that privacy was welcome. But now that he's chained and helpless, completely at Levy's mercy, it means that there will be no Calvary. He's shit out of luck.

A light touch to the side of his throat makes his head snap around. Raven smirks at him, amused. "What were you looking at, Jackal? Your escape route? Are you expecting to be saved?"

Cyrus doesn't reply, his eyes warily tracking Raven's hand as the other man reaches into his jacket pocket and draws out a book of matches. Breaking one match off, Raven drags his fingernail across the head, lighting it. His gaze lights upon Cyrus's exposed stomach, and Cyrus stiffens in alarm. He squirms away from him, staring at the flame with horror. "Levy, you fucking maniac-"

Raven chuckles. Pressing one hand to Cyrus's chest and holding him still as the other man attempts to move out of reach, he murmurs with a smirk, "Easy." He lightly carresses the skin under his fingertips, feeling the tense muscles twitch, as he puts the flame to the wick of the candle on the bedstand. The candle flares into life. Blowing the match out, Raven flicks it into the garbage and picks up the candle. "I play rough," he adds, "but I wouldn't ruin a canvas like this." His fingertips rub small, tight and, for the moment, gentle circles around Cyrus's navel. "Smooth. Pale. Beautiful." Noticing the cynical look on Cyrus's face, Raven chuckles. "No one's ever told you that, I assume." He reaches out, pulling the ruined shirt further open, exposing Cyrus's torso. Sitting back, he studies Cyrus for a moment, his eyes unreadable.

Cyrus glares at him darkly. "It's not a normal topic of conversation, no." He gives a little yank on the cuffs, even though he's tested their strength several times. "Maybe in your sick little world, but not in mine."

Raven's smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, and Cyrus tenses. "You were all for my sick little world a few minutes ago." He shifts, coming to his knees next to Cyrus' prone form.

"What-" Cyrus stops, forcing his voice to remain calm and steady. "What are you doing now?"

Raven leans down, close enough for him to feel the soft breath on his throat. "I think once you get started, you'll enjoy my sick little world, actually."

"Not a chance. I'm not getting into this, Scott." Cyrus raised steady, firm eyes to his.

Raven shook his head, bending to nuzzle the soft skin of his throat. "Think not?"

"Nope," he returned, a little less surely, trying to fight his reaction.

"Let's see, shall we?"

Cyrus shakes his head wildly, no longer trusting his voice as Raven slides down his stomach, licking his way over the snug denim, letting him feel the humid heat of his mouth through them. "I don't want-"

Raven lifts his head, eyes blazing. "Before you finish that sentence, be sure of what you really want, Jackal. This is your only chance. If you don't want this, I'll walk now." He leaned close, pressing a long slow kiss to his lips, letting his tongue caress Cyrus lower lip. "Or, you can let me play, and take what comes, pleasure," he murmured, stroking his fingertips over the bulge in Cyrus jeans. "Or pain," he finished, pinching one nipple until he sucked in a hard breath.

He stood next to the bed. "So, what will it be, Cyrus? Stay or go?"

Cyrus watches him warily, struggling to suppress the conflicting desires warring in him. It feels like Raven's touch has been branded into him, seeping through his veins like a drug, making it hard to think. Tilting his head, he asks, "Are you saying it's this or nothing?"

"I don't do anything halfway." Raven touches the handcuffs, caressing them with the intimate touch of a lover. Cyrus can't look away from those long, talented fingers, any more than he can push away the sudden wish to feel their touch. Without warning, Raven looks at him, his amber eyes intense and hungry. "So yes, it's this or nothing. Do you want to leave?"

Glancing away from the stare, Cyrus looks at the ceiling without actually seeing it. His mind screams at him to answer yes, to get out of the handcuffs and away from here with his control and his sanity intact. He can't afford to show weakness to a manipulative sadist like Levy, not if he wants to stay in one piece. He'd be better off showing his throat to a starving wolf.

But...

Cyrus gives a cynical little smirk. There's always a downside, and at the moment it's the sudden mutiny of his body. Ever since the first turn he raised his eyes to see Raven watching him, an odd look in his eyes and a dark smile on his face, he had wanted Levy with an intensity that bordered on need. The danger, the insanity of this situation, can't drown it out. Nothing would except finding out what kinds of noises Scott made when he came. But is it worth this?

A touch to his face makes his head snap up. Smiling a little too mildly, Scott brushes the lock of dark hair out of his eyes with an incongruously gentle touch. "Do you want to leave?" he asks again, patient, unshakable.

With a long exhalation, Cyrus closes his eyes. He can feel the desire pounding through him like a second heartbeat, centering in his groin. Maybe... maybe he could hold it together, if he agreed. Hell, he didn't survive this long by having control that shattered like a tittering ringrat's in bed. All of it was mind games, a little pain, a few gropes that weren't anything he hadn't experianced before. He could stay cold. And it would be a lot better than going back to his room to jack off alone.

"Cyrus?" Raven's husky murmur comes from just beside his ear, so close he can feel the other man's breath against his skin.

Opening his eyes, Cyrus meets his stare calmly and without flinching, even if the heat in Raven's eyes makes his stomach tighten. "No," he replies casually, rubbing his cheek against Raven's hand. "I don't think I'm going anywhere."

The smile Raven bestows is surprisingly bright, happy. It throws him off balance; confuses him.

Then, the smile darkens, those amber eyes penetrating, as though Raven can see his thoughts, as though he knows exactly what Cyrus' is plotting.

"I know what you're thinking," Raven says suddenly.

Cyrus can't help the guilty little jump the sudden comment provokes. It angers him, making him lift his chin with an arrogant look snapping, "Don't bet on it, Johnny."

His insolent words, far from angering Raven, seem to amuse him. He chuckles, a predatory sound. "You think that if you just treat this as a quick fuck, you'll be able to stay uninvolved," he murmurs. "Distant. I can already feel the ice forming around you."

Strong fingers slide over his stomach, up over his chest, his nipples, to cup his chin. "Not happening," Raven hisses silbantly. "I'm going to make you burn."

It's all the warning Cyrus gets before Raven tilts the lit candle, drizzling a thin line of hot wax onto his vulnerable stomach.

What feels like liquid heat slides over his skin, the excess trickling down his sides. His eyes go wide as his body goes tense, as if to block out the pain. For a moment, it's too intense, making his entire stomach burn in sympathetic pain. Raven bends, taking a taut nipple between his lips and sucking hard. The combined sensations, pleasure and pain, wind dangerously together, pulling a harsh gasp from him before he could suppress it. Before he could even get in a breath to protest, to curse Levy, to beg him for more, the heat from the wax starts to fade as it hardens. After a moment, it's completely gone, leaving behind only the phantom, almost feverish warmth.

Letting his head fall back on the pillow and his eyes close, Cyrus fights to bring himself back under control. The warmth of Levy's mouth still on him and the unsettling, heady tension he can feel in the pit of his stomach don't help anything. When he shifts slightly, he can feel that his jeans are suddenly uncomfortably tight.

So much for his earlier plan.

Fingertips slide over his stomach, pulling the wax away with a delicate touch. Then Raven's tongue laps over the place where it had been, soothing the lingering traces of the burn. Cyrus bites the inside of his cheek, fighting not to squirm under the touch, ignoring the startlingly intense need to feel Scott's mouth on him.

"Well, well. A whole new kink, and it's not even my birthday." The smug amusement in Raven's voice makes him open his eyes and glare at him. Raven only smirks, looking down at the bulge in his jeans significantly. "I see you're still 'not getting into this'."

"Fuck you, Polo," he shoots back defensively. "You took me off guard."

Raven's eyes flare. Straightening, he slides up Cyrus's body until they're face to face, bodies pressed together full length. "Don't lie," he growls softly.

"Who's lying?" Cyrus retorts. When Raven knots a hand through his hair, tugging slightly, he winces.

"You are," Scott says simply. "You're lying to me and yourself, trying to keep this cheap and cold while you burn inside. I saw you squirming under me, gasping, real." Rubbing his hip against Cyrus's almost painfully hard erection, he touches his face, studying the play of expressions. "So many walls," he murmurs finally. His thigh slides between Cyrus's legs, rubbing slowly until the other man shudders involuntarily, his hands tightening on the cuffs. With a deceptively lazy smirk, he speeds the pace, fascinated by the feel of Cyrus's heat through two layers of denim. When Cyrus begins to move his hips in time with the strokes, forgetting himself and nearly purring, Scott reaches down and pins his hips to the bed. Cyrus's eyes go wide as he snaps back into awareness, the sleepy sensuality gone from his expression. Raven chuckles. "I don't think so, baby. You're not coming until the walls come crashing down."

Cyrus shakes his head without meaning to. The thought of his hard won peace being shattered is nearly more than he could take. "Raven, please..." he murmurs desperately.

"Hmmm? I like the way you say my name," he says. "Just let it come, Cyrus. Let me in." His hand goes to the button of the tight jeans, easily opening it. Raven bends, licking at the taut skin he's uncovering. "So very sensual," he whispers. "Like satin."

The low noise from Cyrus is between a moan and a whimper, and it sends a shock of pleasure through Scott's body. He leans down, pressing his lips to the other man's collarbone, nipping and sucking lightly.

The pleasure is surprising from such a little touch and Cyrus bucks against him, needing more.

Raven's head lifts, amber eyes inscrutable. "Do you want more?" he asks.

Cyrus bites his lip for a moment, considering his answer. What the hell, he's already damned. "Yes," he whispers softly.

Scott smiles, reaching for the lit candle.

Dark eyes never leave the flickering candle, wondering where it would drip next. "Raven, I really don't think-" his words end on a sharp hiss as a splash of wax hits his chest.

Just as the burn reaches it's height, Raven thrusts his hips lightly, rubbing against Cyrus aching length. The friction feels...incredible, a hot rasp over sensitized flesh.

Cyrus whimpers, his hips jerking hard against the other man. Raven sits the candle on the bedside table and lowers his head, letting his tongue flick over the wax, dislodging it. "Do you like that?" he growls softly. "Do you want more, Cyrus?"

Dark eyes meet amber with such raw hunger that it nearly drives Raven over the edge.

"Please," Cyrus replies huskily, the steadiness behind his voice and his words almost making up for the way he's shaking under Scott. Only experiance keeps the word from coming out as a whimper. Swallowing, he adds with as much confidence as he can fake, "Let's see if you can walk the walk, Levy."

Raven chuckles, holding his eyes for so long that Cyrus feels the first edge of uneasiness for a moment. "You're going to regret that," Scott tells him casually, slipping his fingertips under the waistband of Cyrus's jeans and tugging them down  with such care that Cyrus makes a small impatient noise in the back of his throat. Raising his eyes, Raven considers him for a moment, then reaches up and pinches his nipple severely. "What did I tell you?" he demands.

It takes Cyrus a moment to realize that Raven expects an answer. Wincing slightly as Raven's grip tightens, stopping just short of brutality, he grits, "I'm in the handcuffs."

Raven's smile is feral, a quick flash of teeth. "Exactly. Which means that you're going to learn to be patient." Loosening his grip as Cyrus slowly forces himself to untense, he slides up to soothe the nub with a gentle suck. His tongue ring rubbed over it, the touch of metal and warmth killing the sting, making Cyrus squirm. Raven leans back to stroke his cheek, rewarding him. "Good."

Sliding back down, he tugs the jeans the rest of the way off, watching with amusement the effect that the rasp of denim and the cold of the room has on the other man. Once the jeans are off, he sits back to study Cyrus for a long moment. Finally, he reaches out, tracing one sharp hipbone with his thumb. "Beautiful," he purrs. Tilting his head, he carries the stroke further down, along one tense thigh. "You hide this body too much."

"Great. I'll discuss that with Paul." Arching into the feather-light touch that drifted between his thighs for a moment before caressing the soft, somehow intimate skin behind his knee, Cyrus struggles not to whimper for more. "Maybe I can walk out dressed like Dawn Marie."

Raven ignores the unsettlingly appealing mental image, bending to kiss his navel. Turning his head, he bites gently at Cyrus's stomach. Cyrus shivers, his hips moving helplessly against Raven. The feel of leather against his shaft didn't help anything. Raising his head, Scott blinks at him, then reaches for the candle. "Close your eyes, Cyrus."

Eyes widening, Cyrus shoots back, "Like hell-"

"Close them." The words are a command. In a slightly warmer tone, Raven adds, "Trust me." His fingers trace circles around the base of Cyrus's length, so close that he whimpers in frustration. Cyrus's eyes flicker closed almost against his will. He feels the brush of long, soft hair along his stomach as Raven rubs his head against him  like a cat.

Then there is only the searing touch of hot wax against one hip.

Cyrus jerks away, his breath hissing out through clenched teeth. Raven's hands wrap around his hips, holding him in place as he squirms. After a moment, the pain fades, leaving his skin feeling raw and over sensitized.

Golden highlighted curls brush the satin skin of his thighs as Raven bends to touch him, and his breath sighs out again, this time with pleasure.

Raven's tongue brushes over his thigh, loosening the wax from his skin. "You've got such an incredible body, Cyrus," he half whispers. "I want to taste every inch of you."

Cyrus' hips jerk slightly in response to the soft words, breathed against his skin. His fingers clench on the handcuff chain, feeling more threatened by the tenderness than the pain.

Amber eyes watch the play of emotions over Cyrus face, wondering if he realizes how utterly transparent he really is. He's so beautiful, naked and bound, it makes Raven ache to possess the dark haired man completely. He's so close to touching the heat beneath the ice. Just a little more, and it'll crack like a spring thaw.

Cyrus shifts nervously as Raven lifts his head, regarding him through half lidded eyes. Fingers stroke absently over his thigh, sending shivers through his body. "Raven?" he finally asks, hating the plaintive note in his voice.

"Hmm?" Raven replies expectantly, crooking his eyebrow before bending to flick his tongue over the back of Cyrus's knee. Despite the rather interesting moan it provokes, he continues upward, brushing light kisses along his inner thighs, taking his time. He pauses to lick the place where thigh met hip, encouraged by Cyrus's taut shudder. "What do you want me to do to you, baby?"

"Scott," Cyrus's voice is halting, his words sounding like a gasp. "I need..." His voice trails off on the statement, his body slowly going tense as he realizes what he nearly said.

Watching the dark eyes widen, Raven takes mercy on him. "What do you need, Jackal?" he asks gently, feeling the other man shudder at the warmth in his voice. Leaning in, he flicks his tongue over one aching nipple. Cyrus squirms under him, untensing despite himself at the rush of pleasure. Raven slides his hand down, curling his fingers with almost no pressure around the base of Cyrus's length, pumping slowly. Cyrus's hips buck against his touch, his eyes rolling back. Tracing small circles around the head, Raven murmurs, "What do you want me to do with this? Suck you until you whimper and come in my mouth?" His other hand strokes the curve of Cyrus's hip, letting it drift back to caress his ass. His voice is husky as he asks, "Fuck you, slow and hard, until you forget your name, until you forget control?" Raising his hand, he licks the precum off his fingers, holding Cyrus's eyes. "Let me in, Cyrus. Let me make you forget for a while."

Cyrus' eyes flutter closed for a moment, feeling long buried emotions washing over him, burning him. "Forget?" he asks plaintively.

"Forget," Raven assures him. His hands haven't stopped moving yet, stroking over Cyrus chest, his hips, soothing him with a near-gentle touch.

When Cyrus' eyes open, the wall is firmly back in place, the cynical twist of the lips. "I don't think so, Johnny."

Raven smirks, recognizing the last shreds of resistance. He picks up the candle, running the end down Cyrus muscled chest, over the flat stomach, to the sharp hipbones.

Cyrus sucks in a hard breath as the cool wax of the candle touches his shaft, stroking over his erection. The combination of fear and pleasure is a potent aphrodisiac, sending little shockwaves through him. "Scott..." he gasps, wondering where the wax will fall next.

Raven chuckles, and lets the candle drift higher, letting a little drizzle trail on his chest before he sits the still lit candle on the nightstand.

He drifts a little closer, bending to lick a path around the head of Cyrus' shaft, letting his tongue ring play over the aching flesh. "Tell me," he demands softly.

His breath coming in short gasps at the alternating touches of hard metal and slick tongue, Cyrus raises his head to look at Raven. The image of the other man crouched between his thighs, still half clothed, licking him slowly, tasting him, his amber eyes smoldering with lust and a far more dangerous tenderness, sends an unexpected stab of pleasure through him. He lets his head fall back, focusing on the ceiling to push away the picture now burned into his mind. If he's not looking at Raven, he can at least pretend the warmth is only his imagination. He can pretend that there's no sudden, roiling heat where there once was only cold detachment. "Tell you what?"

"Anything." Pressing soft, delicate kisses down the underside of Cyrus's length, Raven rubs his thumbs along the sharp hipbones. He lets his hands slide down over the smooth skin to his thighs, nudging them apart. "Tell me what you need," he murmurs against his shaft, "and it's yours."

One of his fingers slides between the cleft of his ass, making Cyrus stiffen in alarm. He braces himself for more pain, a rough invasion.

Instead, Raven doesn't move other than to bend to kiss his thigh. "Shhh," he soothes, his voice low and hypnotic. Leaning in, he nuzzles against his shaft, letting his stubble rasp gently. When Cyrus untenses on a long shudder that seems to well from somewhere deep within him, Raven smiles. The ice is thinning out, and the warmth is so close... "Easy. So beautiful, Cyrus. I want you so badly that it burns. I've wanted you so long, wanted to touch you, taste you, kiss you. I've wanted to make you feel good."

Cyrus shakes his head, denying the words. He's so focused on the soft, undeniable voice that he isn't prepared for the gentle touch of something slick against his entrance. Raven's fingertip teases across, making his eyes go wide as the jolt of pleasure strikes him completely unprepared.

His soft, surprised whimper makes Raven raise his head to study him. "You like that, baby?" Nudging his fingertip inside, he bends, trailing his tongue-ring around the ridge. Cyrus shudders hard, a broken noise slipping past his lips. "Mmmm... I thought so. Let me take care of you tonight, Cyrus. Let me hold you together. Let me make you come apart."

Cyrus stares into the amber eyes, feeling the almost painful wrench in his stomach. The gaze is tender, caring...agony.

Raven stares quietly, nuzzling one sharp hipbone gently. He can almost hear the crackle of the ice, one more push and it will shatter into a thousand pieces. It scares him, how badly he wants that.

Pleasure streaks through Cyrus as Raven nudges his finger in a little further, shifting higher, resting his head on Cyrus chest. He never breaks eye contact, holding Cyrus fast with the gentle gaze.

Cyrus' hips shift, trying to force Raven's finger deeper, needing more.

"Ssssh," Raven soothes. "Tell me what you want, and it's yours, Cyrus." He rubs his cheek against one hard nipple before sucking it into his mouth, just barely flicking the tip of his tongue over it. "So beautiful, so responsive. Let me make love to you," he whispered.

Cyrus closed his eyes on a whimper, nearly drowning out the soft tinkle of shattered ice falling. "Please, Raven..."

Raven smiles triumphantly, trying to ignore the wrench of emotion in his stomach, trying to deny how dangerously thin his own walls have suddenly become. He shifts again, kissing the full lips, the handsome face almost desperately. "Mine," he whispers softly.

The single, quiet word yanks another whimper from Cyrus as it sends an odd combination of fear and pleasure jolting through him. He shakes his head in automatic denial, opening his eyes. Mistake. The sight of those amber eyes inches from his own, intense with tenderness and heat and need, makes his stomach tighten painfully. "Scott," he moans, tilting his face up into the urgent kisses. He can feel himself shaking as the ghosted kisses drift lower to the vulnerable skin of his throat. When Scott nips him, sucking on the mark to kill the sting, leaving his own mark behind, Cyrus arches into him with a hiss. "Yes..."

Reaching back, Raven tangles his fingers in Cyrus's hair, stroking the smooth strands as they slip between his fingers. "I need to hear it, baby," he says desperately, pressing light kisses to his closed eyelids, his tense temples, before leaning his forehead against the smaller man's. "Tell me you're mine. Give me that, at least. Please?"

After a moment that seems like an eternity, he can feel Cyrus slowly nod. They are pressed close enough that he feels Cyrus's suppressed trembling as the other man breathes, "Yours."

Scott shudders, the huskily spoken word nearly sending him over the edge. "Thank you," he murmurs, stroking the shaking body under his own. "I'll try to deserve you."

The bed shifts as he slides off of it, making Cyrus's eyes fly open in alarm. He looks questioningly at Scott, his eyes wide. Scott's answering smile as he unbuttons the nearly painted on leather pants is enough reason to untense a little, sinking back into the bed. Holding the dark eyes, Scott smirks shakily while he peels the pants off his legs. The hunger in the smaller man's eyes at the sight of his bare skin doesn't make it easy to hold on to his easy pace. Finally, he deliberately folds the jeans and drops them to the floor before climbing back on to the bed.

The overwhelming warmth of skin against skin draws a moan from both of them as Scott settles over Cyrus, pressing himself close. Grinding his hips against him slowly, Scott rubs his head against his shoulder. As he massages light circles around the taut nipples with his thumbs, he raises his eyes to meet Cyrus's and smiles a little shakily. Stilling one hand over the curve of Cyrus's chest where he can feel the other man's heartbeat, Scott leans in for another kiss. He presses himself against Cyrus completely, every curve of their bodies fitting together. Words pulse against the inside of his mind, dangerous words, words that could tie him to Cyrus indefinitely. His voice flows like honey, low and intimate, as he says instead softly, "Ready now?"

"No."

The word startles Scott. He looks up at Cyrus, a faintly wounded look in his eyes.

"No? What's wrong, my l-pet?" The last word is hastily substituted, and not at all what threatened to come out.

Cyrus jerks on the handcuffs. "Please, Scott...let me touch you, hold you," he murmurs softly, the dangerously tender look in his eyes further unsettling Raven.

Raven considers the request for a bare second, his better instincts at war with his desires. If he lets Cyrus loose, lets him wrap his arms around him, lets him touch...his wall won't hold. It will snap like a sapling in a storm. For a man who is stronger than the storm, it's terrifying.

Cyrus meets his eyes, seeing the battle, the fear. Those amber eyes are shadowed with so much pain, such a soul deep wariness. He wants to take it from him, to shelter the storm in his arms. "Please," he repeats softly.

Raven buries his face against his neck, inhaling the soft musk of Cyrus' body, the spicy smell of his aftershave. Finally, he lifts his head, offering him a slight nod.

He fumbles with something on the nightstand, bringing out a small key. He unlocks one, bringing Cyrus' wrist to his lips, kissing the red mark around his wrist, letting his tongue soothe it. He repeated the action on the other, sitting the key back and coming up with a foil packet.

Cyrus intercepted his hand. "No. Nothing between us tonight. No walls, not even this."

Raven looked at him, emotions running dangerously close to the surface. "But..."

Cyrus met his eyes. "I trust you, my love."

The gentle endearment is what finally breaks the storm.

Emotions, the very ones he had thought he'd buried years ago, ripped through his defenses like they were paper. If Cyrus hadn't chosen that moment to link his arms around Scott's neck, pulling him down with startlingly strong hands into a slow, hot kiss, Raven would have bolted. Instead, he whimpers into the other man's mouth. His hands tighten bruisingly on Cyrus's narrow hips, using them as an anchor. Cyrus doesn't comment, only moaning softly as Raven's tongue flicks over the roof of his mouth.

When they finally break away, neither of them are breathing steadily. Cyrus strokes Raven's cheek, reading the turmoil in his eyes, smiling ruefully at how similiar the bewilderment is to his own. "It's all right," he promises softly. "I've got you. I won't hurt you." Reaching back, he picks up the tube of lubricant and presses it gently into Raven's palm, holding his eyes. "Please?" he asks simply.

Raven studies him for a moment, looking almost painfully vulnerable, then lets out a shaky breath and nods. With a final, light kiss to his lips, he slides down Cyrus's body again. Cyrus's breath sighs out on a low moan as his finger slips inside again, continuing to stretch him out, adding another finger. He stretches down to stroke Scott's hair with his fingertips, fascinated by the contrast of the smooth curls and the rough texture of Scott's cheek. When Raven angles his next thrust to rub over the prostrate, Cyrus stiffens, his eyes flying wide. "Scott," he mewls, his hips bucking against the touch. "Ah, fuck!"

With a low, none too steady chuckle, Raven kisses his hipbone. Cyrus's fingers close around his shoulders, gripping, as his tongue flicks lightly over the other man's balls. "You taste good, love," he murmurs. "I could spend all night touching you, tasting you..."

Cyrus whimpers. "Can't wait that long. Fuck me-" Another delicate lick, this time with the tongue ring spirally slowly over the sensitive skin, makes his head toss on the pillow. "Scott, fuck me, please!"

Scott stills, his breathing anything but steady, as the combination of those words and the raw need in Cyrus's voice hit him at once. He moans softly, letting Cyrus haul him up. The sudden playful, wicked smirk on Cyrus's face is the only warning he gets before cool, slick fingers curl around his shaft. He whimpers, his head falling back and his breaths coming fast, as Cyrus pumps him slowly. The smaller man watches his expressions change through half-lidded eyes, too fascinated to be alarmed by the oddly tender emotions sweeping through him. "You're beautiful," he murmurs without thinking, listening to Scott's breath catch as his motions speed up slightly.

The amber eyes flicker open to meet his own, and Scott smiles a little unsteadily. His fingers close around Cyrus's wrist, tugging his hand away. "Don't," he warns, "or this'll be over before we even start." He loops his arms under the other man's knees, tugging them up over his shoulders.

Despite Scott's gentle touch, Cyrus tenses at the new vulnerability. He's not used to feeling so exposed, not used to trusting anyone like this. He raises his eyes helplessly, meeting Scott's gaze. If those amber eyes had been warm before, they were smoldering now with an unrestrained heat, making him shiver. Reaching up, his earlier confidence back for the moment, Raven strokes his stomach and commands, "Watch the mirror, Cyrus."

He obeys instinctively, turning his head to look at the mirror beside the window. It gives a perfect view of Scott settling between his thighs and leaning forward, of himself wanton and gasping, utterly vulnerable and somehow protected. The view makes it all seem disconnected, even as he feels the pressure of Scott pressing into him. He can feel himself calming, relaxing into the slow, sweet pleasure that seeps into him as Raven slides carefully inside. Pain flares for a moment and he lets it come, stiffening reflexively. Raven murmurs something soothing, kissing the skin within his reach. Before he can think to actually listen to the words rather than just the sound, the pain has faded. He watches himself relax, nearly melting into the bedspread, and is faintly surprised by the fact that his brain isn't screaming at him for surrendering anymore. He smiles, arching slowly into the delicious fullness, and purrs at the jolt of pleasure the motion brings. "Ah... yes..."

Scott chuckles, bending. Before he gets close enough to touch him, Cyrus turns his head to look at him. Tangling his hands in Scott's thick hair, he tugs him down for a possessive kiss. Leaning his forehead against the other man's, Cyrus opens his eyes and says intensely, "Mine."

Raven's head falls forward, a curtain of hair obscuring his face. Cyrus feels something hot on his stomach, threatening to scald him. He reaches down, half expecting to find more wax, startled when his fingertips come away wet.

"Scott?" he asks uncertainly, hating the unsteadiness of his voice.

"I thought I could do it. I thought I could treat this as a quick fuck. I thought if I just fucked you, it would burn you out of my system," Raven says raggedly. "It should have worked. I should be able to walk away."

Cyrus traces his fingers over Raven's collarbone, over his throat to his face. He gently sweeps the hair from Raven's face. He knew they'd be there, but he's still somehow shocked by the silver tracks of tears. "I can't walk away either, baby."

"You're not me. I'm supposed to be strong, I should be able to fight this." Raven shakes his head, trying to draw the shattered pieces of his control around him, trying to pretend that this is just a fuck.

Cyrus smiles gently. "Isn't that what you were teaching me? Sometimes, you're stronger when you surrender." He leans up a little, sealing his words with a kiss, sweet and hot.

A shudder runs through Raven's body as he buries his face against Cyrus throat, as though seeking shelter. The smaller man holds him, hands stroking over the tawny skin. After a long minute Raven lifts his head.

Cyrus breath catches at the achingly beautiful shaky smile Raven offers him. He strokes the stubbly cheek, feeling the scars under his fingertips. "Okay now?" he whispers.

Raven nods slightly. "Thank you, my love."

Cyrus is still stuck on the endearment when Raven begins to move within him again.

Scott's hips move gently, his hands running down Cyrus' chest, over his thighs with a nearly reverent touch. "So beautiful," he murmurs.

Cyrus can't seem to get in the air to reply, gasping against the jolt of pleasure he hadn't braced himself against. The best he can manage is a soft moan, his hips twitching against the slow, easy motions. His head falls back against the pillow, dark eyes slanting closed.

A soft touch on his cheek makes him reopen his eyes, looking up into Raven's eyes. The amber stare is locked on his mercilessly, holding him frozen. "Look at me," Raven commands huskily. "I want to see your eyes when I'm inside you."

Biting his lower lip lightly, the twinge of pain bringing the roaring pleasure back under control, Cyrus gives a nod and a shaky smile. The smile promptly fades as Raven’s hands settle on his chest, rubbing over his nipples with callused thumbs. The pleasure that flares through him at the slight touch is alarming. He arches up, moaning. “God… Scott, more, harder…”

“Later. Gentle now.” Raven bites his shoulder lightly. “Slow now. I’ve waited so long. I want to hear your little noises, feel you under me.” Bending, he kisses him, rocking his hips a little harder. “So sweet, baby.”

Cyrus makes a little broken noise in his throat, shuddering under him. “Raven-“ The plea is cut off mid-sentence as Scott angles his next thrust to brush against the prostate. His words are lost to incoherancy as he cries out, arching into him.

“That’s it,” Scott encourages easily. “Let it go, my love.”

 When slim arms slip around him without warning, he freezes, hesitating mid-thrust. Cyrus is suddenly looking at him, studying him, as his hands smooth down Scott’s spine to caress his ass. The light touch inflames him, making his next thrust a little rougher than the one before as he moves between the two stimuli. The touch moves inward, sliding almost delicately through the valley of his ass.

Raven blinks, startled, but Cyrus’s gaze never wavers.  It can almost be mistaken for challenging, if he ignores the odd tenderness just under the intensity. But he can’t, not anymore.

He doesn’t really want to anymore.

"Please, Scotty," Cyrus' voice is soft, breathy. His fingertip brushes Raven's entrance, and a shudder of pleasure drives the taller man into him.

Raven bends, brushing his lips over Cyrus', letting his tongue trace the full lower lip. "Tell me, my love." His head arches back as Cyrus' fingertip enters him. "Oh, christ, baby," he
groans, his hips moving a little faster.

Cyrus smirks, flush with pleasure. "That's it, Scott. Mmmm... Faster, please...feels so good, baby, so hard, so hot..." His finger withdraws, his head moving on the pillow as Raven's rhythm picks up slightly, stroking deeper into his body.

Raven studies the play of emotions over his lover's face, the flushed skin, the quick breaths, the heavy-lidded eyes. "You're beautiful, Cyrus," he whispers thickly.

Dark eyes meet his, startled by the emotion in the husky voice. To Cyrus, nothing is more beautiful than the man above him, the amber eyes practically glowing. The strain of going slow, of being gentle is written on Scott's face. Something has to give.

Scott jumps as Cyrus fingers knot in his hair, pulling him down for a hard, passionate kiss. "Please, Scott...I l-need you," he amended quickly, mentally kicking himself, hoping Scott hadn't noticed the near slip.

The amber eyes shut for a moment, the slight tremor running through the taut muscles proving that he'd heard the unsaid word clearly.

"Scott?" Cyrus' voice is shaky, uncertain. Unshed tears brighten his dark eyes.

The only response is that same trembling silence. Scott’s head drops slightly, his hair sliding over his face to veil his expression.

With a sudden curse, Cyrus sits up, turning his head away. “Okay,” he says shakily, his voice a desperate parody of calm. “I’m sorry. That was a mistake.” Reaching up, he tries to shove Scott away. “Let me up.”

Scott raises his head, his grip on Cyrus’s hips tightening to the verge of pain. “What?”

Cyrus doesn’t seem to notice the pain, occupied by his attempts to squirm away. “I’m going, all right? I stepped out of line, I-“

“Cyrus.” The single, soft word stops him. Reaching out, Scott lays a hand on his shoulder, forcing him back to the bed. His voice is quiet, achingly gentle as he asks, “What are you talking about?”

Cyrus stares at the ceiling for a long moment. Then he curses again, swiping angrily at his eyes with his palms. “Shit. Nothing, okay? Just nothing. Get off me.”

A strong hand closes around his chin, urging him to face Scott. “Look at me, Cyrus.” When he draws his lower lip between his teeth, shuddering at the smooth tenderness in that voice, Scott murmurs, “It’s okay, baby. I promise. Please?”

Fighting the urge to bolt, Cyrus raises his head and warily meets the other man’s eyes. To his surprise, there is no condemnation in Scott’s eyes as he touches him, gently stroking away the streak of tears with his thumb. “You love me,” he repeats in a strange voice, holding Cyrus’s gaze.

Cyrus flinches. “I’m sorry-“

“Stop saying that.” Scott slides his hand down, stroking Cyrus’s nipples to tight peaks again with delicate touches. “You don’t have to be.”

“But…”

“Shh.” Rocking his hips again at a slow, easy pace, Raven lowers himself to kiss the tears still drying on his face. “Relax, my love.”

When he raises his head, Cyrus’s eyes are wide with bewilderment. “You’re not pissed.”

Scott shakes his head, his smile trembling a little. His motions are smooth, controlled, even if his hands are shaking slightly as he carries the light touches down Cyrus’s stomach. “No.”

Struggling against the burgeoning heat as Scott’s hands slip ever lower, smoothing over his hipbones gently, Cyrus asks desperately, “Why?”

Raising his head, Scott offers him a warm, tender, unfamiliar smile. “Because,” he murmurs, letting his hand coil around Cyrus’s shaft, “it’s mutual.”

Cyrus fights back a moan as Scott begins to stroke him lightly. "You-you what?"

Scott leans forward, nipping at the taut skin of his throat. "I. Love. You."

To his surprise, Cyrus shakes his head. "Don't. Please, don't say what you can't mean."

Scott strokes his knuckles over his cheek with a shaky smile. "I never say what I don't mean. Christ, you're a hard case. Why can't I love you?"

Cyrus' hips jerk against him, sending a jolt of pleasure through both men. "You don't know me," he whimpers desperately.

"I know enough," Scott says firmly. "I know that you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, I know that you're strong, you're gentle, you make me smile," his voice trails off
hoarsely. "You make me feel like I'm something special."

The gentle amber eyes blur as Cyrus' eyes fill with tears. "Don't...You are something special, Scott."

"In your eyes, I am," Scott murmurs. "Don't cry, baby. I didn't mean to upset you."

Cyrus shakes his head, his arms locking around Scott tightly, burying his face against the taller man's chest. It's several minutes before he can speak, but finally, he lifts his head,
eyes bright.

"I have the weirdest life," he mutters, fighting a smile. "I start out with handcuffs and candle wax, now you say you love me."

Scott chuckles darkly. "That's about the size of it." He rocks his hips experimentally, feeling Cyrus body clench around him. "Christ you feel good, baby," he whispered desperately, before forcing himself to meet Cyrus eyes again. "Does it bother you?"

Cyrus tries to speak around the pleasure streaking through him, his voice a soft moan. "Please...Scott...talk later...shut up and fuck me."

Scott smirks, thrusting forward, beginning a slow, hard rhythm. "I can do that, baby."

Head falling back on a low whimper, Cyrus moans as the pleasure ripples through him, sweet and hot. “God,” he gasps unsteadily, “yes…”

His legs move reflexively, tangling with Scott’s, holding them closer together. Scott chuckles shakily, leaning forward to kiss him. The motion drives him deeper on the next thrust. The tight, velvet heat around him clenches, almost fluttering as a startled cry is torn from Cyrus’s lips. Scott pauses, wrapping his fingers around the other man’s aching erection once more, feeling him shudder under him. “You like that?” he growls, rocking his hips in the bare minimum of motion as he strokes lightly.

Cyrus shivers, his head tossing on the pillow. Concentrating on breathing steadily is struggle enough; answering questions is another matter entirely. Sliding his arms around the larger man, he strokes his back desperately, trying to urge him in. “Scott,” he whimpers, “please…”

He’s not quite sure what he’s asking for. His body trembles for release, straining against the pleasure streaking through him so intensely that it borders on pain, but he doesn’t want to let this go. The feeling of Scott in him, touching him so gently, so possessively… rising ever higher, staring into amber eyes that wavered further away from control with every second…

He could spend forever like this.

Smirking down at his lover, Scott drives in hard and deep again. Cyrus makes another soft, broken noise, his hands tightening on Scott’s shoulders. Scott chuckles shakily, leaning down to kiss him again. This time he stays, murmuring endearments into his ear as he thrusts forward again and again, breathing in the smell of the dark hair spread over his pillow. “That’s it, baby. So sweet, so hot and tight… love this, love you…”

Cyrus moaned, head falling back. “Scott,” he whimpers, feeling the flames licking at the edges of his mind as climax threatens. “Need you, my love…” A harsh gasp is torn from him as Scott thrusts roughly. His next words are nearly a sob, the voice barely recognizable as his own. “Please!”

 Scott's eyes practically glow as Cyrus' body begins to tense under him.  "That's it," he murmurs raggedly.  "Come for me, Cyrus."

 "Oh God," the smaller man's voice is a ragged whisper through the pleasure.  "Please, please, help me, Scotty."  Cyrus' body shakes with the force of his need, arching wantonly into the hard movements.  "Please..."

 "I've got you, Cyrus," Scott assures him, angling his next thrust.

 Cyrus goes rigid under Scott, his arms locking around the broad shoulders tightly.  A inarticulate noise escapes his lips as he shudders, the pleasure drawing into an agonizing coil within him.

 Scott strokes his cheek gently, eyes wondering.  "Beautiful," he whispers, thrusting forward again.

 It's enough.  The soft word, the light touch combine to drive Cyrus past the breaking point.  With a soft incoherent word that might have been Scott's name, his body shivers violently, his breath a bare ragged sob.

 Scott moans softly, entranced by the shifting emotions on his lovers face, the spasms of his lithe body.  It's erotic beyond compare, watching him climax, even as he feels the wetness against his stomach.  He feels his own orgasm threatening, but he fights it back, loathe to give up his voyeurism.

 Finally, Cyrus shivers back onto the bed, breathing hard as the little aftershocks rock him.  Scott begins to move again, slow and hard, centering his movements.

 Cyrus moves suddenly, and Scott finds himself on his back, with the smaller man perched on top of him.  The movement drives him incredibly deep, and he gasps, arching.

 Dark eyes regard him with a faintly predatory look as Cyrus slowly rocks his hips against Scott.  "My turn," he whispers.

Scott’s breath comes in short gasps as he stares up at his lover, hips twitching into the too-slow motions. His voice is nearly a whimper as he murmurs plaintively, “Cyrus…”

Cyrus smirks at him, watching him through half-lidded eyes. “Hmm?” he asks innocently, keeping up the same slow rhythm that is slowly driving Scott insane. He purrs as Scott’s hips buck against him. “God, that’s nice. You feel good in me, hot and hard.”

Shuddering as Cyrus begins to move a little harder on him, driving him deeper into his warmth, Scott lets his head toss on the pillows. “Baby, need more…” Cyrus’s hands slip over his chest, nails scraping lightly over his skin, and he mewls. “Please!”

Tilting his head to let the hair slid from behind his ear to dangle in his eyes, Cyrus smiles maddeningly. “Let’s see. You spent the last hour or so making me squirm. Am I going to give up my opportunity to return the favor?” His hands trail up, pinching Scott’s nipples lightly.

Scott’s breath hisses out in a rush, the sound ending on a low whimper.

Cyrus smiles darkly. “No. I don’t think so.” His pace edges up fractionally, but it’s nowhere near enough. When Scott growls in frustration, he purrs. “So gorgeous like this, my love. Your little shudders, your moans… you’re responsive enough to make me come without touching me once.” His lips quirk up in a gentler smile. “And beautiful enough to make me fall.”

When the deceptively strong hands resting on his chest, one just over his heart, move in to rub over his nipples in time with the slow, steady motion of Cyrus’s hips, Scott shudders hard, on the edge already. “Cyrus!”

Cyrus reaches up, sliding his hands through Scott’s thick hair, rocking his hips against Scott’s in one hard stroke that leaves the other man shivering. “My love, let me…” he moans desperately. “Please, let me…”

Rubbing his thumb along Scott’s lower lip, Cyrus seems to consider that. Then he smiles darkly and replies simply, “No.”

Cyrus leans down, pressing a light kiss to the full lips, pulling back when Scott tries to deepen it. "Naughty," he murmurs, reaching up to toy with the handcuffs still linked to the
headboard. "If you're not good, I'll tie you up here."

Scott whimpers, his body twitching under the weight. "I'll be...good, just please!"

Cyrus nods once again beginning to move on Scott, riding him with an unbearably slow pace. "That's it, Scott, close your eyes, baby."

Scott's eyes flutter shut, his fingers clutching in the sheets until the knuckles go white.

They snap back open as hot wax splashes on his chest.

Cyrus smirks, speeding up his pace, watching the myriad of emotions flicker over Scott's face. Pain, pleasure and every sensation in between.

"Like that, Scott?"

Scott nods tightly, soft whimpers slipping from between his lips.

"Do you want more?" Cyrus purrs.

"P-please," the larger man whimpers.

Cyrus raises up, then dribbles a thin line of wax over Scott's nipple, slamming down onto him a moment later.

"Cyrus!" Scott's voice is a bare thread.

"Yes, baby?"

"Again, more, please!" The voice is soft, pleading.

He obliges, repeating the action on the other nipple, watching it pebble up under the hot wax. "I could get used to this, Scotty. Having you naked and writhing under me," he sighs. "One of my favorite fantasies."

“God…” Scott moans huskily, head falling back. “Baby, harder… so close…”

“Are you, now?” Leaning down, Cyrus nips Scott’s appealingly offered throat lightly. The motion drives him in deeper, pulling a strangled gasp from Scott. Cyrus smirks. “Ooo, I like that sound.”

Scott’s hands trail up over his thighs, gripping desperately as he makes a last grab for control. Cyrus nips him again, harder this time, and props himself up. “You know how many nights I’ve dreamt about this, Scott?” he asks. “You know how long I’ve wondered what little sounds you’d make, how you’d feel in me, what you’d look like when you came? Now that I have it… have you…” Sliding his hand down, Cyrus pinches Scott’s nipple lightly, sliding the cooling wax away. Scott shivers convulsively at the touch, and at the dark look on Cyrus’s face. “Can you blame a guy for wanting to play?”

Scott exhales through his teeth, trying not to whimper. “I can blame a guy for killing me,” he replies shakily.

Ignoring that, Cyrus tilts the candle, spilling wax over Scott’s stomach as he grinds his hips down again. Scott shudders, on the edge, Cyrus’s name a soft moan on his lips.

Cyrus smiles gently, eyes going half-lidded at the sweet sound. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, moving a little faster on him. Pleasure stirs in him as the next thrust brushes the prostrate, clear in his voice as he notes, “Scott, you’re shaking.”

“Need to come… need you to let me come…”

All innocence, Cyrus inquires, “Am I stopping you?”

Rocking his hips up into the motions as best he can, Scott manages to mock-growl between gasps, “If you don’t stop teasing I’m going to roll you over and fuck you through the mattress.”

Cyrus opens his mouth to reply. A trickle of the wax on Scott’s stomach slips down, sliding up his thigh like the touch of fire, turning his words into a startled whimper.

Scott’s eyes flicker open at the sound. He blinks at Cyrus, momentarily concerned, then looks down and sees the wax cooling on his lover’s thigh. A dark smirk tilts his full lips up as he sees the hardening erection between Cyrus’s legs. Sliding his fingertips up the underside, he asks sweetly, “What was that you were saying about playing, lover?”

Cyrus' dark eyes close on a soft moan, his fingers tightening on the candle. "Oooh, fuck," he gasps.

The touches become lighter, fleeting little strokes that made his breath freeze in his throat. "Please...Scott!"

The amber eyes smile slightly at him. "I love the way you whimper my name, baby," he growls softly.

Something sparks in the answering gaze, a little challenge. Cyrus rocks his hips, slowly beginning to move on him again. It moves Scott's hand on his erection as well, making them
Both shiver.

Scott's touch becomes surer, harder, as Cyrus sits the candle on the table, focusing on the slow glide of Scott's length in him.

Scott can barely breath through the flames licking his body. It feels so good that it hurts, making him shiver with need. Cyrus' pace is slow and hard, not quite enough to pull through
into orgasm. "Please, baby. Harder," he moans.

"Harder?" the other man purrs, speeding up fractionally. "Like this?"

Scott stiffens, eyes wide as he suddenly jerks, his hips slamming down roughly. "Cyrus!"

It takes a moment for the other man to reply, trying to breathe around the agonizing shaft of pleasure the movement had caused him.

Finally, the dark eyes meet amber. "God, Scotty...you feel so good inside me, so hard...so big, need you baby..." his words end on an incoherent moan as he begins move.

Scott's grip tightens as Cyrus rides him roughly, driving them both towards their climaxes. A startled whimper slips from him as Cyrus reaches a hand back, fingertips brushing feather-light up his thigh and across his entrance. A finger rubs tantalizing across his entrance in time with each thrust, just delving inside him. He growls, pumping Cyrus harder in retaliation, giving a triumphant smirk as Cyrus shudders violently.

The triumph is momentary, as the finger slides into him. Cyrus bites his lower lip, struggling to concentrate beyond the pleasure rippling roughly through him, trying to keep the thrusts in time as he watches the emotion flicker across Scott’s face. Scott smirks unsteadily, moving one hand to finger a hard nipple. Cyrus shudders again, breath coming faster, movements coming faster, as climax nears. With a dark smile, Scott strokes him faster, rubbing his thumb along the ridge, letting his fingernail scrap gently across the head.

That proves to be the breaking point. Cyrus gasps, head falling back as he cries out Scott’s name and comes. His thrusts become faster, stumbling across the prostrate and pressing down on it hard as his inner muscles clenched around Scott’s length. Recognizing the tightening of his balls, Scott reaches up and grabs a handful of Cyrus’s hair, pulling him down into an almost violent kiss that muffles his cry of release against his lover’s lips.

They lie there in a tangle of sweaty, shivering bodies as the release slowly fades and their almost frantic breathing slows. Finally, Cyrus gives a last shudder and raises his head to blink at Scott with dazed dark eyes. He struggles for a moment for something to say, then gives a shaky smile, touches Scott’s hair and offers, “Hi.”

Reaching up to stroke his cheek, Scott smiles back. Some tension in Cyrus melts at the warmth in that smile, and he leans his head into the touch. Compliantly stroking his temple, Scott murmurs, “Hello, lover.”