Wrong

The first few minutes, I was in shock. It wasn't that I hadn't somehow expected it, but even overlooking the fact that I'd never even thought about kissing another man before, there was that pesky little detail of me having known Kostya since he was just a boy. If this had happened just a few years ago, let's just say "paedophile" would've been one of the nicer things I would've been called. All that would've been more than enough for me to feel a bit ambiguous about the situation. But then there was also the business of me working for an organisation known to dematerialise his kind, the prospect of someone finding out…

And the jolt in my stomach when I realised I really enjoyed kissing him.

Returning his eager kisses, I found myself already making pathetic excuses for my behaviour. Svetlana was slipping away from me, as she had been for some time now. It wasn't anybody's fault, and I'd known from the beginning it was bound to happen. She was on a different level, a place I could never reach. But like I said, that was a lousy excuse. I didn't need constant approval – I've always been my own person. But then why did it feel so good being needed?

Because that's what I got from Kostya – I felt his hunger, and was overwhelmed to feel my own matching his. His hands slipping beneath my shirt, I gasped at the coldness of his skin; he ripped open my shirt, buttons scattering across the hallway floor – I wondered hazily what Svetlana would think when she saw the state my shirt was in – I felt uncomfortable for just a second, and then I was too busy to think about such trifling matters.

I felt like I should say something, but when I tried breaking away to make my statement, he forcefully pulled me back in and said, midst kisses, "Don't say anything."

"Right," I mumbled into his mouth. This was so wrong on so many levels… but for some reason it didn't feel the least bit wrong.

It did feel different, though, kissing Kostya: Svetlana was always gentle with me, even when she was the most passionate – I'd always thought of her as the epitome of all qualities commonly regarded as typically "female" – whereas Kostya was rough, demanding, and it triggered me more than I would've thought possible. It was like a struggle between the two of us, a sensation heightened by him biting down on my lower lip, not too intensely, but enough for me to gasp in surprise.

I sensed him grinning slightly at my response, which awoke something inside me. Whatever it was, it drove me to forcing him up against the wall – perhaps to regain a sense of control. I saw surprise in his dark eyes before I dove in to kiss him again, only slower this time. Just to make sure… and sure enough, there was that jolt again, as our lips and tongues met – why had I never experienced that with Svetlana? – my pulse a violent drumbeat in my ears.

I should've known Kostya wouldn't like being subjugated like that. I could only keep him in check for half a minute before he struggled free from my grip around his wrists and pushed me back, against the opposite wall. It took me completely by surprise. Certainly, Kostya doesn't look that strong, but then that's vampire strength for you…

I barely noticed my breathing getting heavier as he fumbled with the button and zipper of my jeans, acting like he couldn't get me out of them fast enough. When he finally did, and I felt his cold fingers tracing the outline of my briefs, I froze. All at once, it hit me: what we were doing, what we were about to do… the reality of the situation threatened to throw me into panic. What was I doing?

Kostya must've spotted the look on my face – he stopped tugging at my underwear, but didn't remove his hands. He just looked at me.

"What?" he asked impatiently.

Embarrassed, I felt my entire body screaming for his attention the second he stopped touching me, and realised, not without a quick sting of anxiety, that there was no backing out of this—never mind that I hardly even knew if I wanted to back out... I couldn't rationalize this, couldn't lie to myself: I'd never been more aroused in my entire life. And even if I'd tried to deny it… the state I was in gave me away stone cold. My body was a traitor like no other. Still somehow I felt obligated to try and excuse myself:

"Svetlana…" I began in a weak, doubtful voice, before Kostya cut me off.

"She'll never know," he said snappishly. Before I even got a chance to retort, he'd got down on his knees, planting sloppy kisses all the way down my chest, pulled down my last protective piece of clothing and enclosed me with his lips, and I felt the last threads of my long-suffering sanity vanish, absorbed by the wetness of his mouth.

At the mercy of Kostya's lips, tongue and – oh, by everything unholy – teeth, it was all I could do not to cry out loud. The absurdness of the situation – me with a man in a dark, anonymous hallway behind an unlocked door – was such an unspeakable high. Furthermore, Kostya knew what he was doing. In fact, it seemed like he knew just what to do to take me over completely, making it impossible for me to do anything else but just enjoy myself, an utter slave to my pleasure. I would never have known losing myself could be that wonderful.

My fingers running through his hair almost by their own accord, I felt a slight sting of jealousy at the thought of someone else receiving the same treatment by Kostya. But I immediately gave myself a mental kicking. Jealousy? That was the prerogative of people in love. And I wasn't in love with Kostya… I couldn't be, ever, because I couldn't trust him… there was an invisible wall built between us, but we hadn't built it ourselves. The Watches had done a good job building it all on their own – the Watches, the Treaty, the entire Other community, the rules and guidelines set up thousands of years ago. They were certainly indisputable.

But I didn't get to contemplate the wrongness of my actions much longer. It was impossible to focus. My eyes were closed, my head against the wall, still spinning to some extent, and by Light and Darkness, I didn't know anyone could use their mouth like that… my pulse was so heavy I felt like I'd have a coronary any second, and I thought that if Olga could see me now… before everything exploded like the apartment had been prepped with napalm, fire shooting out into my entire body, and I sunk down on the floor, my back still pressed against the wall, panting like I'd just run the marathon.