Two figures are alone. Somewhere far off in the hallway a heater is kicking into gear, rattling and quaking as it starts to blow hot air. As if any more hot air was necessary in this situation. Almost as though life was leaving its body, the lights sputter out of existence, leaving the two figures barely seen through the black overlay of darkness.
"Percy." The low drawl of his name sent shivers up his spine; he didn't dare lift his head to the predatory eyes of Luke. Yet, this voice is more terrifying than the one before, it's as though every letter rolled off Luke's tongue slowly; as if to savor the flavor. It turned Percy's blood to ice and spread a neat layer of bumps across his skin.
He wouldn't look. He wouldn't look. He wouldn't look. He couldn't look. He... Had ... To... Glance... Up... At...
The eyes bore into his, and he was trapped in their color. He knows these eyes. He knows this face. He knows that expression. But it doesn't seem right to have it directed at him. A predatory gaze that is clouded heavily in lust. No. This can't be to him. It just can't...
Luke drew his face unusually close to Percy's, breathing lightly on his lips, but never breaking eye contact. For whatever reason Percy couldn't convince himself to move, he just continued to stare at Luke. A moment passed before the gap was closed by his captor.
The unexpected contact sent Percy into a soft comatose state as his eyes widened and then slipped shut. Blackness did not help the feeling of a pair of rough lips brushing against his own though, rather it forced him to submit to the sensations more directly.
It was a hesitant moment of confusion and bliss as Luke savored the lips of the boy beneath him. The soft brushes of lips soon crushed together. Percy whimpered lightly at this but came to the conclusion he couldn't move. Or perhaps he didn't want to move. Compared to the pain from getting ruthlessly beaten this was almost heaven. Maybe that is why he didn't want to move, to break away. What was wrong with him?
The scarred man took ahold of the boy's neck, pulling it closer to himself. The crushing of lips became less frightening as Percy submitted to it. He couldn't help but enjoy the attention he was getting despite how baffling it was to him. It all was so familiar, not necessarily the beating before hand but this... this felt right, he knew how to respond to the ministrations Luke had begun at his neck. He just knew Luke would nip at his bottom lip, just as he knew that he automatically parted his own lips regardless of his own judgement.
His heart beat was racing, beating erratically against his chest and pounding against his eardrums. It was getting desperate. His fingers had clawed their way to Luke's shoulders and into the cotton shirt he wore. Don't let this end, he thought.
Neither had stopped moving their lips against each other. Yet, for whatever reason, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't stop for air. It frightened him to his very core but his judgment was frayed by a warm floating sensation. His mind was clearing, and the lips on his own no longer mattered to him. At least that's what ...he... came... to... thin...k...
Percy stopped moving, his chest falling forward as his lips broke from Luke's. His head tilted back, limp. An arm had been encircled around his waist preventing him from falling away from Luke's body. Percy was similar to that of a rag doll. Especially as he was set back against the wall.
Luke drew away, removing his hand from Percy's neck and more specifically, his pressure point.
"I win," he whispers to the now unconscious boy before planting a kiss to his lips.
He lingered there for a moment before dragging himself up into a standing position. His eyes, however, trailed Percy's body as he stopped on the various cuts and bruises he had inflicted.
His shoes echoed lightly as they tapped down the hall.
For a brief moment the taps silenced, and another glance was given. This time though with a knowing smirk.