Hot. Blazing. Sweltering. Boiling. Feverish.
It was beauty in its most primal form. Lips crashing, bruising, leaving marks on the sultry skin of the neck, suckling the beads of water from the wonderful skin. Red, inflamed with passion and the heat of the moment.
The taller of the two pushed silken ebony locks away from the flesh, full lips pressing against a pulsing vein, sucking, and nipping at the succulent flesh. Desire fogged the mind and clouded the world around them.
All there was anymore was the heavy breathing of the shorter guitarist, the light moans of need and desire, the droplets of rain falling onto the two males, soaking them to the bone, and somehow, making this all the more pleasurable.
Hair clinging to his slim face, the taller male pressed himself closer to the other, the shorter male's back scraping painfully, yet somehow still wonderfully, against the brick wall of the alley.
What had gotten into them, neither one could say. The only thing that was for sure was the undeniable, uncontrolable, and wild lust for each other.
Their lips met once more, the shorter of the two battled to taken control. Hands tangled in the brunette's beautiful tresses, pulling and earning delightful moans from the other.
Hips rolled against each other, making desire flare and burn like a slow burning candle. The sheer marvel of this moment was not going unnoticed. Both men knew what this was. It couldn't be just lust. Anyone could fulfill lust. But not just anyone could fulfill the deepest desires of their hearts.
In the cold rain, the two guitarists panted, gasping for breath, attacking necks with tongues and hands running sinfully over the body. The cold rain hardly bothered them, for they both felt too hot to care. Hell, the dark haired male wanted to strip himself of his clothing because of the intensenheatwave they were both feeling right now.
Their lips came together once more, and right away, their tongues met. Rolling, caressing, and sucking. Battling to win the fight for dominance, both equally skilled; however, when the taller brunette rolled his hips forward again Aoi, the guitarist lost right then.
Having won the battle, Uruha smirked against the raven's peirced lips. The kiss didn't stop there. The dark haired boy wouldn't let it. It just couldn't stop there!
He needed more. More contact. More touching. More of the other's tongue over his skin. He needed more of the beautiful waves of desire that ran through his veins. He needed those strong arms to wrap around him. He needed this man to have him. To take him. To make him his.
Need. Greed. Fervor. Craving.
Hot lips broke away once more. The dark haired male felt full lips against his ear lobe, the tip of the other's tongue running along the outer shell. A deep, husky voice sounded, sensually in his ear: "You're mine."