He didn't mean to push the smaller redhead against the door and kiss him with everything he had. He didn't mean to break the friendship that was between them like glass. But it wasn't his fault: coming back from a case, worn out and giddy with exciment after finding the lost dragon they had been looking for, Hanna couldn't stop talking and hopping around and making that adorable little noise in the back of his throat that made the dead man's empty chest twist and turn with what could only be known as affection.
Bottom line: He had it coming. The tension between them was getting thicker everyday, and the older man felt like he was tugging against chains like a starving dog everytime Hanna came within two feet of him. He had to hold himself back from taking that perfect little body and holding it as close as possible. The urges and desires that swelled up inside him was something else: something he had never felt before in his unlife. Emotion was new to him, even the word sounded off when he first met the redhead he'd come to adore... but who was he to question Hanna's gift to melt and capture even a dead man's heart?
What made it worse was the fact the younger detective didn't even know he could do it. He wasn't planning on it, he didn't really mean to. But of course, it happened, and now his taller partner was stuck in a daze of new emotions and feelings that caused odd behavior on his part: such as changing the subject when the tension got to be too much, or looking away when Hanna spoke to him. And that was something he never did, ever, no matter what was happening. And he could tell his distant attitude was only hurting the redhead, who cast him sad little glances everytime he had to look away or stop the conversation.
It really couldn't go on like this any longer. Someone was going to snap: He was just surprised it was him this time around. Hanna was the one who always caught up to things first.
And now, with this lips pressed against his ginger partner's, and his hands roaming all over that pale, warm flesh he longed for the most... he just knew there was no turning back now.
It was more simple than he had pictured it.
"G-Galahad...?"
It was a simple question in the form of a name, no fear or disgust in that tone, just shock and wonder. The zombie pulled away, staring down the smaller man. He could just see the surprise in those pools of blue, and his pink mouth parted ever so slightly.
It was just so fucking beautiful...
He couldn't help but dip his head back down to capture it between his lips once more.
Hanna made a small noise, his body getting stiff, his little hands gripping at the back of the zombie's hair. He pressed himself against the wall, as if he wanted to dissapear in it: and this concernced the taller man, who pulled back to stare down once more. He blinked, a rare thing for him, and traced a single finger down the redhead's cheek, warm and as red as his wild hair. He couldn't keep his hands off him, now that he had him right where he had wanted him for so long: touching and stroking every area of his body he knew he was allowed to touch.
For now.
"Hanna? whats the matter?"
The redhead didn't answer, staring up at his partner with wide eyes, breathing heavy and shaking slightly. He moved his hand to push his glasses back on his nose when they started to slip off, never pulling his gaze away from the face above him.
The silence between them was painful, dragging on for what seemed like years. Hanna didn't move or say a word, one hand tight around the zombie's black tie. The undead man kept silent as well, biting his lip in his own fear of losing Hanna forever for the stupid move he just pulled: but what was he supposed to do? he wanted this boy so much, it burned like a wild fire in his chest. It was like a temptation so strong it made him feel like a puppet on strings, compeletly in Hanna's control.
He didn't want to do it, he really didn't. He just lost control of himself. Hanna always did, so what did it matter? it was just one time. He had to forgive him, he just had to... the man was willing to leave and never come back if thats what it took. He was willing to-
"Ben..."
The name escaped the ginger's lips, but this time it lacked shock or confusen: his voice full of tenderness and... love?
Kurt blinked once more, but he had little time to question before those soft lips were once aganst smashed against his. He let out a moan, wasting no time in cupping that face and kissing with all the will he had. He ran a hand up Hanna's leg, lifting it and wrapping it around his own skinny hips. His other hand brushed against Hanna's chin, stroking it and kissing a bit softer now.
There were no more words, just hands grabbing and kissing and rubbing. The zombie's lips going all over Hanna: chin, neck, the upper shoulder. There wasn't a place he wasn't touching or kissing. He wanted every area of that beautiful body he could get, and nothing was holding him back now.
If he still had tears, he would be crying from the pure relief of it all.
Next thing he knew, they were on the small matress: Hanna pushing him down and mumbling sweet nothings in his ear, stripping clothes and stroking hips. Soft moans and whimpers of affection was all that could be shared between them: in the mess of movement and tender kisses. It felt like a scene from a movie, their fingertips gripping as if they were the only thing keeping each other from falling off the edge of the world.
It was all a blur, the heat of the moment drowned out by groans.
It was everything the undead man knew it would be.
He wasn't able to feel as much as he wanted to, being dead, but watching his redhead lover moan and arch and scream random names under him was all he really needed. Watching that wet, pink mouth open and panting: those lovely eyes rolling back in his head, eyelids fluttering open and shut. His skin alive and burning, his chest rising and falling with each whine. His teeth coming out to dig at his own lip... and his fingers gripping the sheets until his knuckles were white while his taller partner rode him to his finish.
Everything about it was fucking perfect as could be.
The zombie thrust until Hanna was off the matress in a silent scream. Closecloseclose- there: Moaning and moving under him, grabbing at his stitched shoulders like he was about to explode. And when it all calmed down, the older man fell against Hanna, peppering his body in all the kisses he could give.
They were silent for a moment longer, the only sound being Hanna's heavy breathing and the movement of his partner kissing and nuzzling and tracing his delicate pale skin.
"Todd?"
"Yes, Hanna?"
The undead man glanced up, placing his lips against the redhead's forehead, stroking away some stray red hairs that hung in his face from the overload of activity. It had all happened so fast, and yet...
"Do you love me...?"
The question was blunt and fast, mumbled under Hanna's breath. Frank laughed softly and moved his upper body forward to rub his nose against the boy's.
"I love you, Hanna Falk Cross. I love your smile, your eyes. I love your laugh, and the way your nose is shaped. I love everything you hate about yourself, Hanna. I love your scar..."
He traced his cold fingers down the zig-zag scar that ran down Hanna's body.
"I love your crooked teeth."
He kissed him, tracing his tongue over the redhead's teeth smoothly.
"I love your freckles."
He moved his lips to kiss each faded freckle that dotted Hanna's cheeks and nose.
"And I love your hair. Your lips, your hands and your toes."
The zombie laughed once more and ran a hand up, rubbing his thumb under Hanna's eye in slow circles, kissing his hair.
"I love you, Hanna. Everything about you. I always have, and you can rest assured that I always will."
Hanna made another noise, high pitched and shy. He wrapped his arms around the zombie's neck, burying his face against his black hair, that smelled of woods and old books: just like always. Expect now Hanna was allowed to smell it up close, and hold the man he loved as close as fuckin' possible.
He felt like laughing from the happiness that he was already having a hard enough time handling: but the way his partner looked at him was only making it worse. His eyes so amazing, glowing and soft, full of affection. Before he knew it, Hanna was opening his mouth to answer.
"I... I love you, too. Richard. I love you, and I have for a long, long time. I just n-never... yanno..."
He looked away, but the zombie's cool hands caught his face, bringing it in close for yet another tender kiss.
They stayed that way, for the rest of the night. Both men not worrying about what tomorrow would bring: wrapped up in each other like the blanket Hanna couldn't afford.
It was messed up and wrong and just damn weird in every sense of the word...
But right now, it couldn't have been more perfect.