He felt that hot mouth probe his own as he sensed somewhere that they had smashed the painting next to them onto the floor. What does it matter when they could recreate history? The painting of them by Mendez was nothing short of beautiful. His legs open to let his lover in, shirt ripped open so that skin could push onto skin, mouths about to clash as hot air expelled from their lungs as the tension around them grew. Recreating history indeed. His lover pushed him onto the cold floor, thrusting his tongue into his mouth as hands pinched, grabbed, explored every part of him. The cock thrusting onto him swelled along with his own as they fucked each other onto the floor. Not enough. Need more. He feels himself spread his legs open further as his lover's lips parted from his for a moment so he could rip his pants off. He pushed himself onto his elbows watching his companion tear the clothing off of him before being slammed back down. Fuck. That mouth was on him again, the hot cave attempting to swallow him whole as hands grabbed his hair and pushed his head back further in attempts to access his blazing lips even more. He felt himself being eased onto his stomach, and immediately missed the scorching mouth, the tongue that had pushed through his lips, a promise of what was to come. New sensations began to take its place – the feel of hands pushing him down, a hard cock pressing against the curve of his arse. He moaned as lips tenderly bit and licked his neck at a sensitive spot that no one but he knew of. His body started to writhe underneath the larger, firmer frame that reverberated heat through his skin. A hand held firmly on his shoulder, as he felt the other one sliding down to cup his arse. Kisses trailed along his back before reaching his arse at which point he pushed back, hoping to feel the soft lips against him. And then his lover's mouth was right there. He cried out, caught between begging for it to stop and demanding more, yet knowing he had no choice either way as the licking turned to thrusting. As release almost befell him, the lips stopped as the other body reached back up to once again cover his body.

"You want this." It wasn't a question.

He nodded sharply.

"Yes."

The sound of a zipper opening broke through the air, penetrating the sounds of panting and skin slapping onto skin. He wasn't ready for it. The cock slammed into him without warning without preparation and, oh God, it felt so good. The scream tore through his lips as he was pounded into again and again relentlessly as though it would be their last. May be it will. Oh God. He hears sounds of begging – fuck me harder, yes, please, just like that – and it's driving him wild. The cock keeps pushing in, hitting his spot over and over as he himself pushes back, impaling himself back onto it.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful." The words whispered into his ears.

He knows what he must look like - a debauched slut; his thighs spread wide open, moaning out in pleasure as he was repeatedly impaled with another man's cock.

A hand reached down, curling around his erection, slowly jerking against the rigid skin. The thrusts inside him became faster, harder more urgent, and he felt his own need build. A groan in his ear, the tightening of the hand around his cock, and he was gone.
When he comes – oh God, yes, please, so close – another scream tears through him except this time with his lovers name on his lips. Black spots swarmed his eyes as he rides the orgasm out, still impaling himself, not letting go, before releasing his hold and falling into the black.

When he opens his eyes, he is alone.

But he won't be for long because he knows that neither can last nor live without the other.

Mohinder smiles.