Disclaimer:: I do not own League of Legends, Riot Games, or any of the champions, abilities, spells, or sexual activity mentioned in this chapter. There will be some SHTUFF [winkwink]] in this chapter, that shall continue into the next. Light smut warning:: Activated.
The sun slanting in through the small window was what awoke Malzahar the next morning. The first thing he noticed was that sometime during the night, he had wrapped his arms around Kassadin. The second thing he noticed was that his left hand had slipped below Kassadin's waist, and was resting gently against his crotch. The third thing that Malzahar noticed was that Kassadin, although sleeping, had a huge smile on his face. Malzahar, shocked at his own subconscious behavior, jerked his hand away, and sat up. His head spun for a second, and then he steadied himself and stood. He decided to make breakfast, although it was four-thirty in the morning and much too early. Malzahar grabbed his purple scarf, and wrapped it around his face, covering most of it, and then floated to the kitchen to make toast. He knew the loud noises he was going to make in the kitchen would wake Kassadin up. But then, he couldn't decide if he wanted Kassadin to leave or stay. After a moment of pacing, Malzahar slid back onto the bed, and wrapped his arms around Kassadin again, in the same position. He slowly pulled his knee up to his chest, so that it was resting against the back of Kassadin's upper thighs. Malzahar tucked his face into the crook of Kassadin's neck, and then let his breathing slow once more, until he was almost asleep once more. But Kassadin wasn't asleep. Although his eyes were closed, and he kept his breathing steady, Kassadin's heart was beating fast. When he thought Malzahar had fallen asleep once more, Kassadin slowly turned over so that he was facing the other day, his muscles tense as he tried not to wake Malzahar. He succeeded –or so he thought –and just stared at Malzahar's face. Malzahar's knee was resting against Kassadin's crotch, and, keeping his eyes closed, Malzahar moved his knee up and down the slightest bit. Kassadin's eyes widened and he pushed his hips closer to Malzahar's. Malzahar's tattooed eyes snapped open, and he suddenly rolled over, trapping Kassadin beneath him. Both of them were breathing irregularly, suspense constricting their lungs.
"Good morning, Kassadin," Malzahar whispered. Kassadin didn't say anything, just stared back into Malzahar's blue eyes and licked his lips nervously. Malzahar traced the outline of Kassadin's lips with his gloved hand, and they both knew what was about to happen. There was a moment of fear, of hesitation- and Kassadin reached up and pulled Malzahar's scarf down, tucking it under Malzahar's chin. Malzahar leaned down and pressed his lips gentle against Kassadin's. The kiss lasted for only a second, before he pulled away. Kassadin bit his lip, and looked everywhere except for Malzahar.
"Good morning, Kassadin," Malzahar repeated, acting as though nothing had just happened. But the look in his blue eyes was intense, and both of them knew they wouldn't forget it.
"I… I should get back to… To…" Kassadin stammered.
"To where?" Malzahar asked, the end of his lips curling up in amusement.
"To somewhere," Kassadin said, sounding panicked.
"You don't need to go anywhere except… right here," Malzahar murmured, guiding Kassadin's hands over his tanned chest. He felt the hardness pressing into him, so he pushed himself closer to Kassadin, grinding their hips together. Kassadin moaned quietly.
It felt so right, he knew it had to be wrong.