Talon's hand gripped firmly at the stone. His upper half leaned over the safety of the roof. Something was bumping him over and over. No... someone. All his shirt was rolled up over his shoulders, chin buried in it. Blood swarmed his face, lighting the skin red. He was burning. His face was burning. Short breaths squeezed from his lips, breaths as hot as his skin. Below were a few people walking about alleyways, oblivious to the act occurring just out of their sight. It didn't stop hallucination of eyes glaring up at him, before blinking to see them looking anywhere but at him.

It was thrilling. And he loved it.

Muscles clenched around his body, holding onto the cold brickwork he was bent over. Wind rushed past his face with a chilling touch, lifting his hair the direction it rushed. But the heat of his face was no match for a mere cold breeze. For the saliva dripping from the corner of his curled lips, the devilish smile he wore, for the breaths that panted past his loose tongue.

Talon was in ecstasy.

Purple clothes piled up next to his feet. Pants laying around his ankles. Shoes still firmly gripped his feet, but that just meant the clothes were not his own.

"Talon~"

A raspy voice called out behind him. That voice he knew all too well. Of the madman lover that could never decide to come or go, stay or leave. Exist or vanish. But here he was. That vest laying on the ground, baggy pants next to it. The scarf was still on the man's shoulders, but the rest of him... It was deliciously free. Malzahar's shoulders began bruising with a few fresh bite marks. But he cared barely for them. His muscular and toned form flexed hurriedly as his grip around Talon's chest tightened like a vice. Nibbling teeth and loving lips left trails along the assassin's neck and back. Each muscle of his chest pressed longingly against the Noxian's back, moving around as the man's waist and legs poured in most of the work.

It was cold up where they were, even with clothing on. Yet, Talon's body was hot. Flooded with warmth. Two biceps on either side of his arms. Two lithe fingered hands caressing any and all parts of his chest. Trailing along scars, muscles, and his nipples. Occasionally they teased his stomach playfully, before grabbing him lustily after eliciting a yelp of glee.

Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap.

The rhythmic pace Malzahar kept up that pressed himself into Talon's rear... His body reacted to. Jumping forth excitedly with each slap of skin against skin. The sun touched skin on the man behind him, inside his rear. It contrasted brightly with the pale whiteness that was Talon's own skin. But it was a pleasure. Such a hot man with his manhood inside of him. Not a care for the place or time. The hand that slowly crawled down to his waist, then wrapping itself around Talon's throbbing length.

"T-Talon..."

The prophet's voice was rasp. Without a change in words, the inflection in his voice made it more than clear what was coming next. But also who was coming next. Intense joy sparked up and down Talon's spine, pure pleasure lighting up his entire body as the yearn for release made his blood rush. The man behind him used one arm to hold tighter than ever, pulling himself as close as possible to Talon. He was warm and a little sweaty. How much time had passed? It mattered not except for the bliss they shared.

The two moaned together in unison, panting heating the hairs on the Noxian's neck. His vision clouded and got smaller until he could hardly see. His manhood throbbed in the other's hand, pulsating joyously from the man's touches as the balls hanging at the base strained. Both bucked forward repeatedly. White ropes of warm spunk hit the inside of the roof wall. It was an intense release, blazing with pleasure. Each buck from Malzahar made him spurt more, feeling that the man was also climaxing inside of him. It was unbelievably warm. The filling finally unleashing in his rear as waves of that mad man's seed emptied into him.

But as the climax drew to a close, so did the power of Malzahar's thrusts. He'd finally finished, ensuring his hand drained every last drop from Talon's length before releasing. Instead of exiting, Malzahar remained inside Talon while putting his arms back around the Noxian's chest. His grip tightened once more, but this time instead of pleasure and lust, the embrace was loving and supporting. Talon's body had gone limp in his arms. He hadn't even noticed, but the panting Shuriman had.

Talon felt one arm release as the other arm had plenty of strength to hold him. Two fingers pressed his cheek, turning his head to the side. Malzahar stood with the sun behind his head, staring down at him with a delighted smile. Leaning in, his lips pressed against Talon's with a caring love. Their foreheads pressed together, noses also next to each other. They couldn't help but pant, and laugh. It was exciting beyond belief, and someone probably had heard them both at some stage.

"Talon..." Malzahar cooed softly as he pulled him off the ledge and into his lap on the ground. It was a melodic swooning call, odd for such a man.

They faced each other, smiling gently, exhausted of all energy.

Malzahar's face said all Talon needed to know about how he felt.