Mikhail had opened his eyes, staring at him, breathing hard.
Otherworldly and stern, shimmering strands framing a countenance so perfect it disappeared, leaving space only for dreams…as in electromechanics, where it is a certain mixture of matter that makes the resistance to current almost vanish, not the matter as such, Fei too was made of flesh and blood…but…Mikhail was afraid to reach out, afraid this was a mirage, would ripple and dissolve once he moved. Every nerve was tingling with Fei's touch, his hand still in his hair…
Fei dipped down, pressing his mouth chastely against Mikhail's. All thoughts of transcendence evaporated instantly…the Russian completely lost it, sucking and pushing into that opening, that fleshly taste of heaven. A soft stifled moan added sounds of heaven. Fei's body melting against his, Mikhail cried out as he began pawing him wildly. He had to feel him, had to feel everything, everything he had seen! Hectically working his trembling hands all over him, Fei now writhing, their mouths locked again, he shoved under the borrowed belt, right into the humid heat. Fei was erect, the tip of his cock wet. Mikhail's shout would have woken the dead. He ripped loose the belt, ruining it, and tore down Alexej's trousers, once again exposing his love. Pausing for one nanosecond to inhale Fei's intoxicating scent from his hand he grabbed him, squeezing, shooting over the top almost at once. He knew he should restrain himself, follow a choreography, but he felt completely beside himself, soaring above earth in a delirious bubble. Vaguely, as through a long tunnel, he saw Fei's surreally beautiful face open up completely to him…and he came in a spray of stars, falling against him, panting in panic.
This should, in all rights, have been deeply, hopelessly shameful…except it wasn't. They lay in each other's arms, Fei's strong slender body pressing up against him as if it were the most natural thing in whole universe. Fei's hands were once again travelling over him…this time from his scalp, over his neck, into the neckline of his t-shirt…Mikhail stiffened slightly. But Fei never faltered, never seemed to question what he was feeling there. Mikhail wondered fleetingly whether he had seen him, too, in the public bath. He did not seem surprised, and Mikhail remembered that other sexual partners had shown every reaction from shock over horror, to, worst of all, feigned indifference, making everything from then on stiff and stilted. It was not like that at all, this time. He felt a rush as if dissolving, and now he was melting into Fei, making small, yelping noises…
He was already hard again. "Will you strip for me", escaped his mouth in Russian, before he could stop himself. Fei could understand Russian…he knew that…but the Chinese, although still smiling up at him, did not react…Mikhail was too excited to think, and began pushing up his own jumper. He paused when the clothing was over Fei's head, gasping at the sight of his smoothly muscled torso, the pectorals just slightly rounded. He was so strong. If he didn't want this, he could have easily fended the Russian off, not even needing his martial arts skills. A sound came from within the jumper, and Fei wiggled a bit. He was as if restrained right now, with the trousers around his knees and the jumper around his arms, covering his head. Mikhail felt the chaotic heat rise in him again. Leaving Fei as he was for the moment, he wanted to caress his beautiful torso with his nose and tongue, drowning in his smell, but again lost composure diving wildly into his crotch, sniffing and licking, grabbing his ass cheeks, one finger probing…and now Fei was resisting. Mikhail stopped cold.
What was he doing? He knew the Chinese wasn't completely awake, had known it all along…bottomless anxiety flooded him. Releasing Fei of the jumper he scanned his face for signs of anger or fear. But the Chinese only seemed rather out of it, as if something about that last act had thrown him out of himself and he was hovering slightly beside his body. Freeing him too of the trousers, Mikhail covered Fei's naked body with his own. "What did I do, my love, what have I done…", he cried, frantically searching the Chinese' features for an answer, but Fei was like in the pub before, only this time not speaking, just gone…
Mikhail desperately stroked his hair, again and again, finally whispering,
"where are you?" and exhaled a kiss on each slanted, darkly glittering eye, gazing wide. Tears falling freely on the lovely, vacant face, Mikhail pushed Fei's legs closed much like Asami before him had done, not angrily though, but tenderly and sad.
He said something, halting at first, that sounded like Chinese, seeming to repeat again and again the same phrase…following this up with some passionate and resonant Russian. Fei became very still…and barely a minute later both of them were breathing deeply.
The moonlight had wandered on, and it was dark and quiet in the room. Alexej had woken up early on during this mad encounter, watching with gleaming eyes, and the other three hadn't made a sound (not that either of the two had taken the slightest notice of anyone).
Now Takato stirred. "What did he say?" he whispered.
"The Chinese, Cantonese actually, I don't know. Wonder whether Fei could understand. Misha's been studying Cantonese for some time now. First time I came into our communal bathroom and he was standing in front of the mirror practicing, 'wingchingchangchong'", Pjotr mimicked what he thought sounded like Chinese, "I thought he'd gone mad. He said it had been really difficult to find Cantonese - Russian, it was all Mandarin - Russian, in the end he had to settle for Cantonese - English…", Pjotr was rambling a bit, still shaken by what they had witnessed.
"And what did Mikhail say in Russian?" Surprisingly, it was Akihito who asked.
Pjotr hesitated. Finally he translated in a low, halting voice.
"He said he wanted him for life, not just one night. He said he wanted to be sure he wanted it too, and was not just half gone, and…conditioned to it by…torture."
- to be continued -