Virgin [sʜᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ]

XIV [!]

Blessed me with a second chance, never thought I'd see your face again.

Justin Bieber

Shawn's form quickly decomposed; like he had been given a good jab in the right place. He noticed how his breathing quickened and his eyes had troubles focusing—trying miserably to respect the boundaries that had been assumed so long ago.

The man began to take steps his way. He counted them, each time his breath escaping his throat; a terrible agony he decided. He had garnished a sense of consternation. Cameron had arrived so abruptly, so craftily, so well-timed and most assuredly thought out. He battled between being absolutely terrified, and yielding some kind of unworldly effervescence.

     He licked at his lips, but his saliva had began to brandish that thick consistency and provided him no relief whatsoever.

If Shawn had been in the position in the moment, he would have backed up. Reuniting with Cameron hadn't been what he expected. No, not at all. He had figured that he would run to Cameron's arms and greet him with the sweetest of kisses and hug him tighter than the feel of a straight jacket.

He didn't intend to be terrified of the man whom he loved. Shawn felt like a basket-case—unable to cope with his rapidly changing circumstances. And then almost instantaneously, there was his lover, before him once more, letting out easy breaths while his respiration cycle ran ragged and shallow.

"Hey," Cameron smiled uneasily. Maybe he had been just as nervous.

"H-hey," Shawn replied, and Cameron reached out, touching the pads of his fingers to the warmth of Shawn's flushed cheek.

Shawn had it in him to flinch, recoil, but he didn't. Just as he did not understand why this had to be so difficult, such a slow burning thing. He took a whiff of the air —unconsciously of course— and it smelled of that Acqua di Gio that he loved so much.

     Shawn leaned into the older lad's touch when he brushed the smooth tip of his thumb over the boy's plush lips before he reintroduced his own to the boy who sat upon the throne. And Shawn felt as if he were in vertigo; everything moving, but he and Cameron on standstill.

     Shawn leaned into the older man, his tongue accidentally brushing against Shawn's, and he'd be a liar if he said he didn't miss it. The sea had long since rejoined, and the party had returned to normal.

     Shawn clasped the suit jacket that hugged Cameron's body, feeling like his oxygen had been stolen. He could taste the night on the other boy, what it meant to him, what he had done before, how it had been exfoliated from their lives.

Cameron pulled back and looked to Shawn, eyes locked. "How's the men's?" He inquired, his thumb now on the top button of Shawn's dress shirt.

"Single...there's a uh..there's a lock," Shawn confirmed.

"Then what's the hold up?" Cameron questioned, already escorting Shawn to the nearest washroom.

They didn't quite barge in, but things hadn't been so gentle. It hadn't been so slow, not like the last time where they had practically finished before they started.

Shawn sent the expensive suit jacket to the floor in an instant, licking a gentle stripe across Cameron's jugular and letting out a sharp gasp when the older of the two flipped him over and pinned his arms up, breathing air onto his face, already exhausted in the best way.

     "Is this fine?" Cameron asked whilst looking Shawn in his glossy eyes.

     "Definitely fine," Shawn assured the older man.