The Boy [mxb]

36

Our mouths brush softly, tentatively.

Ciel's lips are exquisitely smooth, supple and warm. They taste so sweet, like chocolate cake. It's barely a kiss, but it sucks my awareness of the world away; everything recedes, converging to the simple pressure of our mouths slotted together.

For a long moment, our mouths remain fused together like that, locked and unmoving, and I don't know if Ciel is too stunned, too scared, or too unwilling to move. Heart pounding out a throbbing pulse, I plead wordlessly with him to reciprocate, to feel the same overwhelming desire that has me going crazy. Because I can't hold back anymore.

"You're beautiful," I mutter against Ciel's lips. Carefully, testing the waters, I brush my lips over his again. My mouth moves slowly, cautiously. I suck his lower lip between my own. Slant our mouths together, until they're sealed painfully tight, lips and fingers quivering with the thrum of suspense, throat swelling up with hot desire.

"What're you doing?" Ciel gasps, pulling away for a breath.

I thumb his plush, pillowy bottom lip, too tongue-tied to answer.

Something I should regret. Everything I knew I shouldn't do, but, fuck it.

Ciel's tongue pokes out, runs tentatively along the seam of my lips, and our tongues meet once again in a tentative, exploratory dance.

Then he makes a small, anguished sound in the back of his throat. He raises a hand to cup my nape, hauling me in. Frantic with need, I attack his lips in another scorching kiss. Our faces crush against each other, eyelashes glancing off skin, as I nose in deeper and pull him to me with an arm looped around his neck. My hands comb through his hair, carding through the luscious, damp locks with urgency and fisting at the nape of my cherub's neck, tilting his head up. Craving for those soft, pliable, pink lips overwhelms me. And he's as hungry as I am, his sweet, kiss-swollen, spit-slick lips moving feverishly against my own.

Feverishly, Ciel unclasps the top few buttons of my dress shirt and slides it down my shoulders, just enough to expose some burning skin. His hand fists in my wet hair, the other gliding along the expanse of my damp shoulders, gripping, squeezing, scratching, holding tight.

The clap and boom of fireworks has me grinning into the kiss. Behind my closed eyelids, I can sense the explosions of auroral colour lighting up the sky. I feel weightless, buoyed by the elation as much as the water.

My head reels, lungs stuttering as our mouths fuse and unfasten in a sensually charged rhythm, tongues engaged in a steamy duel. Our breathing is growing more and more laboured.

I have to pull away, before I do something like cup his ass or more. He would allow it, too. But I shouldn't. I've already crossed a line tonight.

My brain presents a reel of all the possible ways this could end badly, every outcome my fault. The glory I've been chasing is going to strip me of everything, isn't it? And Ciel will have to pay the price.

I switch my brain off and just feel.

Opening my eyes, I see twinkling stars dotting the sky, fairy lights strung through the silhouette of palm trees, and our breaths lingering in the air. We're both soaking wet, white dress shirts translucent and stuck to our skin. Ciel looks starry-eyed, hair plastered to his forehead, lips swollen and red.

He shivers, dazed and breathless with exhilaration.

"Are you cold," I husk in a passion-roughened voice I don't recognize.

"No, I'm...perfect." Bony arms wrap around my neck.

A smug smile lights up my face.

"Yes, you are..." I really feel like I've been kissed by an angel.