It was nice getting to talk about his sister for a bit and super generous of Hasan to order a second slice of cake for her, but thoughts of his sister had definitely fled Pascha’s mind by the time the pair had reached the riverwalk. He couldn’t have explained it if he wanted to, but something about the colored lights overhead and reflected in the water made it hard to think about anyone but the person right next to him or anything but the atmosphere around them. The rush of the water was not too loud to talk over, but rather just loud enough to make conversation more private and intimate. The sound of a violin being played further set the mood. Even Pascha, who normally could only appreciate music as the feat of perfect timing and harmony it was, found himself just appreciating the sound of it for once.
Hasan was caught off guard by Pascha taking his hand. The inventor could only wonder if he had looked so surprised each time Hasan had taken his. Probably. He was surprised! But this time he was the one to do as he pleased. And he was very pleased, especially when Hasan made no effort to pull away or suggest that they should not walk hand in hand.
He did apologise again for the trick, but Pascha only shook his head gently with a smile lingering on his lips. He supposed he could understand why it was a bad thing to do in theory, but it had turned out very well. Why should Hasan have to apologise to him when he was having such a great time? ”You don’t have to be sorry. Really, I mean it.”
Another couple passed and Hasan stepped closer to him, which Pascha certainly did not mind. He glanced at the other couple only momentarily, but the strange impression that they were alone in the world did not entirely dissipate even then. They continued on their way as though no one else’s existence even mattered. At least it felt that way… Was that strange?
Hasan was speaking again, explaining that he would understand if Pascha was angry. But even if Pascha tried to think of it that way, he just wasn’t. ”Even if it wasn’t like this… Even if I wasn’t into it or we did not get along quite this well, it would still be true that I was spending time with a friend that I want to know better. Even if you played a little trick on me, even if I didn’t think it was funny, I like to think I would at least realize you weren’t trying to hurt me. You at least like me enough to spend an evening with me, even if it wasn’t a date. I think that matters a lot more than what might have gone wrong but didn’t.”
Hasan liked him more than he should, he had said. Was Pascha reading too much into that? Not everything had to happen fast; he had to remind himself of that. But he couldn’t help it; there wasn’t much he knew how to do slowly.
Pascha’s smile broadened when Hasan grinned down at him with mischief dancing brightly in his eyes. How could he be angry when the man was filled with such impish glee at the thought of teasing him? If it had been intended to hurt him then he would be angry, but he knew that wasn’t the case. But there was more and Hasan turned a little serious as he explained that Pascha should not feel pressured to do anything he did not want to. That Hasan was not expecting anything.
”But I do want to kiss you, Hasan.” Pascha admitted readily despite his cheeks turning pink as he spoke. He stopped walking for a moment and stepped in front of Hasan, placing his hands on the taller man’s chest.
”You should know I’ve thought about it ever since I first thought that even could be what you meant. And if I’m honest, at first I did not know if I wanted it or if I was just too curious not to think about it. But I know now; I want to kiss you. I don’t know how that will feel or even how I expect it to, but I want it. Honestly I might have tried it by now if I was not worried I would be pressuring you.” Pascha smiled sheepishly at the admission, but did not break his gaze away from Hasan’s.
”Not everything has to happen quickly. We’re just getting to know one another. There isn’t any rush to figure this out. I do want to kiss you. But now it is my turn to say I won’t expect anything. I don’t want to pressure you into anything you do not want, either.” Even if that meant maybe he wouldn’t taste the chocolate man tonight after all. But was he entirely wrong in thinking that it sounded like Hasan wanted to kiss him, too?
As desperate as Hasan was to avoid hurting Pascha, he still wanted – needed – some sort of consequence, some punishment, some outside force, to keep him from giving in. But there was none. Pascha was perfectly contented with the situation – understanding to a degree Hasan did not deserve, and entirely unburdened by any thoughts of doubt or worry. Hasan wished to join him in that, to let go of his concerns and just focus on the good things. But to do so would lift what meager restraint to which he still clung. And oh, how he clung to it.
“...I think that matters a lot more than what might have gone wrong but didn’t.”
Hasan shook his head with a wry smile. “I really can’t keep up with you,” he said softly. Pascha sorted through all the clutter so quickly and easily – a feat he himself could never achieve. “But if you say so, I’ll believe it.”
That was to say, he’d believe Pascha did not hold anything against him. As for believing that what he’d done hadn’t been wrong, well… It would take time and effort to try and shake off his guilt. And if Pascha continued to indulge his whims, he’d be leaving this date with more to be guilty about than just that. He just needed to say or do something, anything, that Hasan could latch onto, that he could create an obstacle of, that he could –
“But I do want to kiss you, Hasan.”
God damn it all.
Hasan silently sucked in an agonized breath, but his fingers curled and tensed around air as Pascha drew his hand away. Pale eyes locked onto the blonde’s unflinching gaze, and when Pascha laid his hands upon his chest, Hasan truly believed he was done for. His one saving grace was that Pascha was still talking, and that was something he could focus on – even if he rather wanted to put that mouth to better use. Without thinking, he reached for Pascha’s waist, his hand lingering there briefly before settling on the blonde’s hip. The movements were pure muscle memory at this point, his natural response to this specific stimuli.
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about pressuring me,” he responded, voice low. The irony of his own warning about taking things slow coming back to haunt him now, in the most frustrating of moments… His karma was truly a b***h. But it could serve as the ‘something’ that he needed. Even if his other hand was now ghosting Pascha’s jaw, and his face was drifting ever closer. “My problem is that I want everything much too badly. And I have very poor self-control.”
He ran a thumb along the bottom of Pascha’s lower lip, then dropped his hand to the junction of the blonde’s neck and shoulder.
“So I need you to give me a reason not to kiss you right now, or I might just eat you up,” Hasan continued, his expression hardening. With monumental effort, he tore his gaze away from Pascha’s face and glanced at the lights dancing on the water. His grip on Pascha's hip tightened – neither pushing him away nor pulling him closer, not yet. “Tell me it's too soon. Or that you'd rather your first kiss be with a cute girl. Anything at all.”
In his home kingdom of Mercury where everything and everyone seemingly moved at a lightning pace, Pascha was far from remarkable physically. He was moderate in terms of running speed. But even among his speedster peers the workings of his mind were incredible in their swiftness and accuracy. Simply put, it was not the first time someone had to admit that they just could not keep up with him. And Pascha would not expect anyone to; it was enough that Hasan would take his explanation at face value. Or, in lieu of that, would accept that Pascha was genuine in expressing that he was just not angry. He did not find it rational to be angry, no matter how often he was reminded that he was tricked. He was tricked into having a wonderful time; why would he not be happy?
It was sweet of Hasan to be so worried for his sake. Was it because he had admitted to never being on a date before? Well, the Mercurian was not entirely convinced it would have mattered if he had not made the admission himself; even he could tell that his knowledge of social cues was severely lacking. Hasan would have noticed that one way or another, how could he not? Clearly that triggered the protective side of him, but did Pascha really need to be protected? In truth, he did not understand what Hasan was so afraid might happen. What harm could come from a kiss?
The hand that lingered on Pascha’s waist and settled at his hip made his cheeks feel warmer and he didn’t understand that, either. Why should he be embarrassed that Hasan was touching him? He was touching Hasan, too. But it felt different somehow, even if he couldn’t put his finger on it. Maybe it was the intensity in Hasan’s eyes or the low pitch of his voice. There was something hungry there that fascinated Pascha and lay just his reach, held at bay for fear of… what? Hurting him? Frightening him? Or perhaps Hasan was just worried that Pascha would become angry after all? His mind was quick and it was sharp, but it did not operate in a vacuum; without any inkling of what Hasan was thinking, he could only speculate.
Hasan was so close to him now, fingers brushing his jaw and thumb caressing his lip. Pascha suppressed the strange and fleeting urge to lick that thumb while it was so close to his mouth. Hasan wanted everything much too badly? For the first time Pascha considered that everything Hasan wanted so badly might include more than just kissing him. He had been so obsessed with just that one thing, something so exciting and new to him, that he had not considered what could happen beyond that.
In truth, he barely even understood the concept of what could happen beyond that. Academically he understood the whole bit about how babies were made, not that either of them could carry a baby, but he was in territory not covered by books. A part of him was thrilled by that and the possibility of discovery. Another part of him was trying very hard to take Hasan’s concerns seriously and think about whether he should be worried and why.
But if Hasan was asking for a reason not to kiss him, Pascha wasn’t certain that he could really give one. It wasn’t too soon for him; he had already decided that was something he wanted. And while Pascha could think of several cute girls he had imagined kissing, it had never gone farther than that. Just thinking that they were pretty and nice and it would be nice to kiss them. It felt… well, downright immature compared to the heat of this moment between himself and Hasan. But of course it did… he had never thought of doing anything more passionate than kissing or holding hands before. But now he was, and was that really a terrible thing? He was definitely of age. He would probably be forced to marry before long and he would certainly have to do more than kiss then.
What was it that Hasan had said? It was easy to get caught up in the flow of things on a date like this. He was not wrong; Pascha felt swept up as though in the current of the nearby river. His thoughts were rushing, churning, and burbling much as those light dappled waters were. And Hasan was worried… Worried perhaps that Pascha was taking things entirely too quickly. He supposed he was… He would be furious if someone ever tried to bed Sonia on a first date, wouldn’t he? Why should it be different for him?
The better question was why would he be furious? It wasn’t just because Sonia was a girl or that she could get pregnant, it wasn’t even that she was younger than him because he would still be furious if she was of age. But he’d be afraid of someone hurting her. What kind of guy would even convince her they were close enough on a first date to be intimate? It was more than just physical, or at least it could be.
Was that what had Hasan worried? He liked Pascha well enough and they were friends, but that didn’t mean he had romantic feelings. But he did want everything much too badly, in his own words. Pascha admittedly wasn’t sure what he was feeling. He liked Hasan a lot; what if he did want more than friendship? That would surely be enough to cause the chocolate man an internal crisis. It made sense, more sense than anything else. But Pascha would remain true to what he had said; he wouldn’t expect anything from Hasan. The chocolate man didn’t have to profess undying love to him or anything; he just wanted to go with this flow and experience everything Hasan had to offer. He could compartmentalize his feelings for now and examine them later, hopefully with a better understanding.
It took only a moment for these thoughts to run their course. There was time to blink normally perhaps twice after Hasan had finished speaking… Or maybe once and a half. ”Hasan…” There was so much he could say, so much he could try to explain. But understanding for himself and explaining to others were two vastly different things. Sometimes other people couldn’t keep up. Sometimes there were still doubts. This time there was a way to communicate that he at least had no more doubts. When Hasan turned to him, Pascha lifted up on his toes and leaned against the taller man for support as he stole his first kiss. If that didn’t get the message across, then he wasn’t certain he even could!
The water held no answers for him, offered no insight. Not that Hasan expected to receive any sort of divine guidance from the reflections on the ripples and the waves. He kept his eyes on course only to give Pascha the space to decide -- and himself the space to step away, if he had to. Despite everything, despite understanding how quickly and deeply the blonde processed his thoughts, Hasan still wanted Pascha to take his time and think this through. Mega-genius or not, he was young and inexperienced, and he could be making a decision here that he'd regret in the morning, or in five minutes, even, and...
Pascha said his name.
Hasan looked.
And then it didn't matter anymore.
The clumsy kiss pressed to his mouth enacted a swift and decisive ceasefire in the war he’d been raging with himself. The fallout he would deal with later. As of this moment, Hasan Cyrus Eden only cared about one thing: making good on his word.
As usual, his body reacted much faster than his brain, for this was something with which he was very well acquainted. He stooped down just enough that Pascha would not have to stretch to reach him, angling his head to better fit their lips together. The hand at Pascha’s hip moved to his lower back – if only as a steadying gesture. Even if his companion held no romantic notions about what a first kiss ought to be, Hasan in all his imperious glory was making the executive decision to give Pascha a nice one. Something chaste and sweet and slow. He drew back when the time felt right, taking a beat to search Pascha’s face for any sign of displeasure or hesitation.
When he saw none, Hasan took another beat to look around, quickly locating a recessed alcove nearby where they might have a little more privacy. He tugged Pascha toward it, but the moment they stepped into the shadows, he abandoned all gentlemanly consideration for his partner. He grinned like a hunter who had caught his prey, grabbing Pascha by the waist and catching his mouth in a second, decidedly more searing kiss. This one was all hunger and passion, tempered in the beginning briefly to give Pascha’s quick mind a chance to adapt to the change in tempo and ferocity.
Hopefully the blonde would remember his words from before: about telling him to stop, if he ever got too much.
He moved a hand to Pascha’s neck, dragging his thumb along the other’s lower lip to urge him to open his mouth. Tasting had to be done with your tongue, after all – and Hasan was ravenous. He drank Pascha in like a man dying of thirst, grasping at that soft, golden hair, clutching him ever closer. And while he wanted nothing more than to just pick Pascha up and pin him against the concrete wall of the alcove and show him all the places you could kiss someone, they were, technically, still in a public place. However obscured they were from the few folks still lingering at the riverwalk.
Hasan parted from Pascha to take a breath, and was unable to hold back a decidedly lecherous grin. Realizing the hand on the blonde’s waist had drifted a touch too low in the midst of the kissing, he quickly readjusted, running his fingers up Pascha’s back. “Alright, what’s the verdict?” he asked, still eyeing the lips before him. But his gaze soon shifted to Pascha’s eyes, curious to see if there had been any shift in hue. “Kissing’s pretty good, right? ‘Course, if you need to test it out a little more, I’d be happy to oblige.”
Pascha quickly came to the realization that he was not very good at kissing. He was much too short, he held his head wrong, and wasn’t there supposed to be something with tongues? Wow, he had never realized there was so much to it! Fortunately, Hasan was very good at kissing. At least Pascha thought that he must be with how naturally he adjusted to accommodate a clumsy Pascha. And after that it just felt so natural and right! Even if Pascha had no idea what a kiss should be like, he knew that this was better than he would have been able to imagine. Well, unless a chocolate man actually could taste like chocolate, but that was just silly.
When Hasan drew back, Pascha had the dreamiest smile on his face that would have utterly embarrassed him if he could have seen it himself. Kissing was very nice. Hasan had a look around, but Pascha was in too much of a happy daze to even wonder what he was looking for. A moment later Hasan was leading him to an even more secluded little alcove before kissing him again, but this kiss was very different from the first!
Pascha almost felt like it was him who couldn’t keep up this time, which was a rare enough situation! But it wouldn’t be for lack of trying; he wrapped his arms around Hasan as he met the chocolate man’s hungry, searing mouth with his own. Not once did it occur to him to tell Hasan to stop; why would he ever want to stop? This was a new experience, wildly outside of his wheelhouse, but it was absolutely exhilarating!
His lips parted under the gentle pressure of Hasan’s thumb and he gasped softly as the other man’s tongue invaded his mouth ravenously. His mind was swimming, his fingers clenched in Hasan’s poor shirt even as Hasan grasped at his hair. His scalp tingled and a small part of his mind marveled at the sensation and how surprisingly enjoyable it was.
Breathing was an important function of human life and Pascha was not entirely certain how long it had been since he had taken his last breath. He filled his lungs when Hasan’s lips left his despite still being quite dazzled and out of sorts. And warm; his skin felt flushed all over. He wanted to kiss Hasan again. A delightful little shock chased Hasan’s fingertips as they traveled over his spine and a soft sound surprised Pascha when it escaped his lips.
Pascha clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide with surprise as he looked up at Hasan. That… was not intentional. How embarrassing. But his eager eyes shone a deeper blue when Hasan asked him for a verdict and suggested that he could test it out a bit more. Pascha dropped his hand from his mouth with a sheepish smile and reddened face. Then that hand found its way to Hasan’s hair, toying idly with the locks as he wondered if that light tugging felt nice to everyone or if he was an anomaly. ”If I admit that kissing is really good, can I still keep testing it out? Every good hypothesis needs plenty of testing to become a proper theory, you know.”
This was a decidedly more delicious dessert to Hasan than something like cake. The sight of Pascha flushed and dazed set his blood on fire – and the little noise that slipped out of him damn near sent Hasan into a frenzy. Desire flooded his brain, threatening to wash away all the reasons he needed to be careful here. Pascha certainly wasn’t helping matters, though Hasan supposed his hair was one of the least dangerous places for those curious hands to wander. His smirk did not falter as he studied his companion’s face and listened to his words.
“Of course you can,” Hasan responded, his hand coming to a stop at the back of Pascha’s neck. His fingers traced the curve of the blonde’s spine on their way back down, at which point Hasan hooked an arm under Pascha’s rear and hauled him upward. With ease, Hasan held him aloft and against him, giving Pascha all the access he needed without either of them needing to accommodate for the height difference. It also served to keep his own hands occupied, lest they begin to roam where they shouldn’t. Not that he needed both arms to hold Pascha up. “Matter of fact, you can test out anything you want. Consider me a training dummy.”
Whatever he was curious to try, Hasan was more than happy to indulge. God knew there was nothing he hadn’t done before. And maybe there was a not-so-small part of him that selfishly wanted to take all of Pascha’s firsts for himself. Increasingly, it was becoming harder for him to care about the fact that he shouldn’t, that he’d told himself he wouldn’t, that it would be all too easy for him to push Pascha too far in this heated moment. Already, Hasan was kissing him again, eager to not waste another second – but this time, he intended to let Pascha set the pace for a bit.
Just for a bit.
It was the lights going out at a nearby store off the riverwalk that reminded him they did not have all the time in the world. This damn school and its damn curfew… “How are we,” Hasan asked between kisses, “on time?” He pressed his lips to Pascha’s jaw, and then against the small bit of neck not covered by his collar. “We have to get back to the carriage, and then it’s…” Concrete hit Pascha’s back as Hasan walked the two of them over to the wall. Using that as leverage, he freed his arms and swiftly undid the first several buttons of Pascha’s shirt – enough to give him sufficient access to the rest of his neck. “Fifteen, twenty minutes back to the school, and… ten to get across campus to the dorms…” He kissed a line down Pascha’s throat, too drunk on this moment to think through what he was doing, and sucked his mark onto that pale skin.
To be fair, he had warned Pascha that he'd eat him up.
And oh, how he wanted more. Hasan couldn't even remember the last time he'd only gone so far as making out and then walked away. Not for the first time, he wished he wasn't quite so hot-blooded. He was only grateful his overwhelming desire had not yet manifested physically.
Hasan pressed an apologetic kiss to the ruddy blotch blossoming on Pascha’s neck, and then another to Pascha’s mouth, as he pushed his hands up the length of the blonde’s thighs around his waist. He briefly wondered how much more he could get away with, but immediately chided himself for the errant thought. “We should stop,” he murmured against Pascha’s lips, “before I start going too far.”
It was amazing how much effect a simple touch could have on another person. Pascha felt fairly certain that this was not the first time anyone had ever touched his back, but he had never reacted so drastically before. Every time Hasan’s fingers moved, his skin tingled where they had touched and some fascinated part of Pascha’s mind was stuck on analyzing just that.
Hasan hoisted him up so easily and Pascha marveled at his strength. Sure, Pascha was fairly small in build but he was still a full grown man! He felt so impossibly light in that moment; it was dizzying, but in a surprisingly pleasant way. What a strange thing to discover he enjoyed. But then, it was strange that he had enjoyed having his hair grabbed as well. And kissing a man. Maybe he should not be too concerned about whether any of it was strange or not as long as he was enjoying it.
A training dummy… for kissing. Pascha wondered if there was such a thing… maybe if he had employed the use of one, he would not have nearly missed on his first attempt! But that was a thought that floated mostly ignored at the back of his mind as he was entirely too focused on putting Hasan’s offer to good use. ”I’m going to hold you to that.” the young prince replied matter of factly, smiling as he clenched his hand in Hasan’s hair. Somewhere in his mind, he took note of its interesting texture. He lifted his dangling legs to encircle Hasan’s waist as they kissed again, this time with Pascha’s tongue as the aggressor.
That was short lived, but ever so enlightening. Kissing was a little like dancing, tongues moving in tandem and complementary to one another. Kissing was a lot more fun than dancing was, though! It was so engaging that Pascha only distantly noticed when a shop’s lamps were put out and he honestly did not care. At least not until Hasan made the connection that they needed to return before curfew. He did not want to… What sort of thought was that? He never broke the rules. Well, unless it was a rule about not sneaking food; that was a silly rule, anyway.
Pascha made the effort to check his watch when Hasan’s lips pressed to his jaw and neck. He was admittedly very distracted by the sensation that made his skin feel so warm and the fascinating way it affected his breathing and ability to think at maximum clarity, but he did manage to spare that much attention for the device strapped to his wrist. But before he could respond, he was surprised to find his back against the wall. ”Oh!”
Right, time. Calculate the time it had taken to walk from the restaurant to the riverwalk. Add twenty minutes to return to the school; better to err on the cautious side. A little extra padding for boarding, unboarding, making it to their rooms… Was… was that sound coming from him? Pascha bit down hard on his lip as Hasan diligently worked at giving him his first hickey, but it only muffled the moan that escaped him anyway.
”F-five minutes… No more than eight.” Pascha panted softly. He was not as fortunate as Hasan; his inexperienced body was quite literally rising to the challenge issued. The smallest voice in Pascha’s mind was humiliated, mortified… ignored, compartmentalized. He would unpack that later, when he was alone.
If he was alone? Did he have to be? How did he ask? He had a moment to consider as his lips were soon occupied once more. And then Hasan was saying they should stop. Maybe he was right… Pascha was flying rather close to the sun. And yet… he didn’t want to ever turn away from that brilliance. He didn’t want to miss even a single discovery out of fear that the wax would melt from his wings.
”Come back to my room?” Pascha offered, eyes half lidded and his lips still not even a breath away from Hasan’s. ”We could go as far as we want there. Couldn’t we? I mean… I want to. If you…?” He had never been low on confidence, no matter how hard he tried to pretend, but tonight marked a first. He wanted to charge in and experience it all, but it was all so new. And there was no telling how he would feel about everything tomorrow when he allowed himself to think. The little voice that told most people they should not try the unknown thing had finally escaped its imprisonment in the lower processes of his mind to stir up a ruckus. And Pascha was very much shoving it back into its cell, thank you very much. He wanted to touch the sun.
”I want to experience this. All of this. I want you to show me, Hasan. And… I haven’t forgotten. I won’t expect more than this is, so please. Let me have this tonight.”
Hasan grinned into the kiss, nerves alighting at the sensation of his hair being pulled. He was no stranger to the divine union of pleasure and pain, but more than that, he delighted in every bold move that Pascha took. There was something thrilling about watching him express his curiosity in real time – as well as being the subject of it. Every touch was a welcome surprise, however unexpected. Pascha certainly knew how to keep him guessing. And the more he expressed, the more Hasan hungered to explore.
Though hunger was maybe too soft a word to describe what he was feeling. Pascha’s moans were enough to drive Hasan mad. The sound alone was like music to his ears, but knowing Pascha was enjoying this enough to vocalize his pleasure was dizzying. What other noises could he make? What would he sound like when he –
Hasan pressed a little more into Pascha, his body seeking the pressure and touch it so desperately craved. Judging by what he subsequently felt against his abdomen, Pascha was enjoying himself very much indeed. It only made this situation all the more dangerous. Even if they weren’t running short on time, it was better to stop here, lest Hasan lose the razor-thin hold he held on his own pleasure. And lest they both be forced to make a very awkward walk back to the carriage. The most frustrating part of this was that Hasan could solve Pascha’s problem so easily...
But they were in public, and he’d sworn he wouldn’t go that far. He was trying his best, goddamnit. Even if everything in the world was working against him right now. Not the least of which was Pascha himself, so unexpectedly intoxicating, and –
Inviting Hasan back to his room.
Hasan could have died. Genuinely. Right then and there. All the willpower in the world couldn’t stand against Pascha begging him. It was pathetic, really, how easily the blonde disarmed him, how easily he folded. Maybe if he wasn’t already so insanely hot and bothered, so desperate to claim the gem before him, he could have stood a chance. If he’d just stayed strong at the beginning, instead of giving a selfish inch and letting Pascha take a mile. All his talk about taking things slow might have meant something if he was capable of setting a good example. But he wasn’t. And now Pandora’s box was open, leaving him with the fallout.
A blessing, and a curse.
“Pascha,” he began – a plea and a warning. Pascha’s hypnotizing gaze left his blood roaring. “I want you so bad I’m losing my ******** mind.” His hands stilled on Pascha’s hips, where he gripped him tight. “I’ve been trying my damnedest to hold back, but you keep just…”
How was he even supposed to explain himself? All the complicated and conflicting emotions? The hypocrisy of Hasan convincing Pascha there didn’t have to be strings attached, when he was already choking on his own, was not lost on him.
But he was tired – tired of this war he’d been waging against himself. And an ugly part of him was whispering that if Pascha wanted to do this to himself, he alone was responsible for the consequences. Hasan swallowed it down, reminding himself that the only reason Pascha wanted this at all was because he’d been seduced. He was probably dazed by lust, not thinking clearly. And that was wholly Hasan’s fault.
And knowing all that, knowing it was wrong, he’d still do it anyways.
He breathed in deep and slow, then set Pascha back down on his feet. Hasan took his face in his hands, and kissed him once. “For both our sakes, I need you to be absolutely sure. If I go to your room, I really won’t be able to control myself. Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Obviously, they couldn’t cross the final line tonight, but there were plenty of other ways Hasan could ruin him.
Whatever Pascha’s response, Hasan gave them both a few moments to collect themselves, while they were still shadowed in the seclusion of the alcove. Then he laced his fingers through Pascha’s, giving his knuckles a quick kiss, before beginning their walk back to the carriage.
Just the way Hasan said his name sent a delightful shiver down Pascha’s spine. It was nonsensical; Hasan had certainly spoken his name before! But his voice… The way it sounded like he was yearning for more just as much as Pascha was. Why did that excite him so much? There had to be some logic to it, but it was beyond Pascha’s understanding. The Mercurian prince squirmed when Hasan continued on, telling Pascha just how much he was wanted, how difficult it was to hold back. He did hope it was not just his already swollen ego that loved hearing those things! Heavens, he really hoped his ego wasn’t tied into… everything happening down there.
Hasan trailed off for a moment and Pascha took the opportunity to kiss him again. He was listening, he really was! How could he not? Everything Hasan said just made him feel like he was on fire… Well, if being on fire was a good thing, which he knew it wasn’t, but his skin felt so hot he was almost surprised he hadn’t spontaneously combusted!
After a moment, Hasan set him back down on his feet. Yes, he supposed that was a good idea since they needed to get back to the carriage, but he would have been lying had he said he was not even the least bit disappointed. He couldn’t get enough of this heated moment in their secluded little alcove. It was almost enough to make him forget that they were still very much in a public place. Maybe he should… button his shirt? But in the end he was distracted by another kiss from Hasan and one last effort to implore him to rethink his eagerness.
Pascha wanted to respond immediately, to tell Hasan that he had thought about it backward and forward and he was sure. But while that was true, Hasan was aware of the speed of his thoughts and had still asked him once again if he was sure. It would have been careless of him to just answer again right away. ”I will make you a deal, Hasan. I will think about it all the way back to the carriage and give you my answer then. That is… quite a long time to think about anything, for me. I can promise you that if I haven’t changed my mind in all of that time, I never will. So promise me that if I still want you to, you will come with me to my room and hold nothing back.”
Such bold words despite the moment of uncertainty he had felt before! Perhaps the loss of Hasan’s hot body pressed against him had emboldened him in his desire. He knew what he wanted, even if some small part of him acknowledged that he didn’t understand all of the consequences. He felt ready to find out, for better or for worse, as long as it meant Hasan would lay hands and lips on him again. But maybe that was the heat of the moment talking. He would give himself the walk back to the carriage to cool off and think rationally.
Yes, rationally… Only then Hasan took his hand and kissed his knuckles and Pascha’s little heart soared. His cheeks were pink and he started counting prime numbers backward from one hundred and three in an effort to calm himself down. How was it possible that a kiss to his knuckles could make him feel flustered even after all of the kissing, hair tugging, and nibbling that had him craving more of the chocolate man? But this feeling was different, he knew. He desperately wished he could pretend that he didn’t, but he knew. At some point, despite reminding himself repeatedly that he could not allow it to happen, he had started to feel more than just physically attracted to Hasan. Little affections like a kiss to his hand ran the risk of meaning too much.
Pascha focused on that thought as they walked back toward the carriage. He knew that was at least one concern that Hasan had; he was not prepared to reciprocate any feelings that Pascha might develop. And it would be unfair of him to foist his tender feelings on the man when he had been warned not to feel them in the first place. That said… he had an inkling that it was already too late to box that tender emotion back up and pretend he had never experienced it. Even if it hurt him later, it was already there, already a part of him. It was far too late to think that not going any further would spare him, and so he was truly beyond caution.
Well, that conclusion was certainly reached quickly and they still had so much farther to go before they reached the carriage. Ah well; he had promised to think about it until then and he would. He would consider every angle he could think of, he would weigh every pro and every con. And with the fog of lust clearing from his mind as they walked, he was able to focus so much more of his processing power on the problem.
But no matter how many times he added one to one, the answer was always two. He felt something for Hasan, even if it was something small and uncertain, and no amount of avoiding the man now was going to erase that feeling. He also felt a strong physical attraction, a lust to know every inch of the man and have every inch of himself explored in turn. There was a risk that giving into that lust would only grow his tender feelings; he knew that. He also knew those feelings would not be reciprocated. He even tried to convince himself that it wasn’t worth the risk, that it was better to leave things as they were so he wouldn’t be hurt. But the yearning he felt hadn’t faded completely and he suspected it wouldn’t until he at least crossed the finish line.
The alternative was, what? To find someone else who was willing to bed him with no feelings involved? The thought was sour in his gut like bad shellfish. He was not opposed to carnal experimentation devoid of romance, but the idea of taking someone he did not at least like to his bed was an unpleasant one. And who else among his friends would he even have the gall to ask? Charlene? Nayeni? Snack Buddy? No, no, and no… Lovely ladies all, each he had imagined kissing or holding her hand, but this was not something he could have requested from any of them. A romantic date, certainly, but not… this. Hasan was the only one that he knew wanted to explore this with him and that he could trust with a moment so intimate and vulnerable. It had to be him, even if there were risks.
One plus one was two, over and over again, no matter how long he drew out the calculations. They finally reached the carriage and he had once again reached the same conclusion. They entered the carriage and once it had begun moving, Pascha decided it was time to once again make his intentions clear with a bold move. He climbed into Hasan’s lap, straddling his legs and facing him, arms looped around the chocolate man’s shoulders. ”I am absolutely sure, Hasan. I am ready. And I hope you won’t control yourself even a little bit.”
Knowing the speed at which Pascha processed everything and being comfortable with fully accepting his decisions as completely thought out were two separate things. It was something Hasan was still struggling to wrap his mind around, try as he might. The root of the issue probably laid more so in the fact that Pascha made the whole situation sound so easy, while Hasan was barely keeping his head above water. He discreetly hoped that Pascha would think his way right back out of wanting him, to save himself from falling prey to Hasan’s terrible clutches. And his larger fear now was that he’d end up frightening his young companion during this rendezvous, who in his mind was rushing into this at a breakneck pace without fully understanding what it would entail. But Hasan supposed breakneck was just the speed at which Pascha did everything, wasn’t it? He would have to get used to it. If only for a night.
With that in mind, when Pascha offered to mull it over all the way back to the carriage, Hasan understood that was the absolute best he was going to get. Even just those few minutes would practically be an eternity for Pascha, more than enough time for him to ponder the situation from every angle. Though Hasan’s expression remained very serious, he flashed a small, grateful smile and squeezed the blonde’s hand. “Alright, you’ve got a deal,” he said. And then: “I promise.”
Just as Pascha would be spending the walk back to the carriage with his thoughts, so too would Hasan. The sobering night air offered some amount of clarity, and although not once did he let go of Pascha’s hand, he, for a bit, felt a thousand miles away. How strange it was that despite his greatest efforts, and the best of his intentions, this date would be ending like all his others. How strange it was that, for the first time in many, many years, he was the one who had to be convinced to bed his partner. And the strangest part of all was that he had not wanted it to turn out like this. He had not wanted to treat Pascha like the rest, to be used and abused and then left behind when Hasan got bored or things got too real. Pascha deserved much better, certainly. Hasan did not want to hurt him, certainly. But the core of the matter, rendering all else superfluous and moot, was a singular, unyielding truth.
A truth he refused to acknowledge in its entirety, however much it permeated his every thought and action.
Hasan stole a sidelong glance at his companion as they walked, watching the warm lights of the riverwalk cast rays of gold across his face. Judging by the concentration in his eyes, he was hard at work keeping his promise. And Hasan – well, he would not have to work so hard to keep his own. That part came quite naturally to him. With his somber self-reflection now complete, he could focus on what really mattered:
Planning for all the ways in which he’d be having Pascha tonight.
Unfiltered lust was easy, comfortable. And he no longer needed to stem his terrible thoughts to resist temptation or guilt. If Pascha wanted to be ravished, then that was what he would get. Hasan would devour every inch of him, until that brain of his short-circuited and he could think of nothing else. It was too bad he couldn’t ******** him proper; Pascha would look so pretty riding his –
Ah, the carriage.
Hasan thanked the driver, once more charging the ride to the order of one Professor Yezikhulumi of Utopia Academy, then allowed Pascha to clamber up into it before following suit. Two thumps on the carriage wall, and they were off, clattering over the cobblestone street toward the school. Hasan had barely settled into his seat before Pascha was on him, proclaiming he was ready.
Just like that, there was no going back.
“Oh, I have every intention of keeping my promise,” he murmured, grasping Pascha’s hips with a grin. His lips were a hair’s width from the other’s. “But you might regret pulling this move here in the carriage…”
The very cramped and enclosed carriage, where they would have only twenty-ish minutes before the agonizing walk back to Pascha’s dorm. Hasan would not be waiting until then, of course; it was only a question of how messed up the blonde would be when they arrived – and how embarrassed he might be when they were inevitably discovered by the carriage driver.
He closed the distance between them with another hungry kiss, as if making up for lost time during the few minutes they’d been parted. He was tugging at Pascha’s sweater vest in an instant, yanking it up the length of his slim torso and up and over his head and up-stretched arms. Pascha’s shirt was a slower process, as Hasan lacked the dexterity for a swift unbuttoning, but he persisted, completing what he had started earlier in the alcove. Only then did he pull back completely – rough, warm hands exploring the newly unveiled, untouched skin. He took a moment to appreciate the sight, not bothering to hide the desire in his gaze. Then his eyes settled on the mottled mark he’d left on Pascha’s neck, and Hasan decided he would look awful good with just a few more.
He grasped at Pascha’s soft hair, pulling his head back and to the side to give him full access to the length of his throat. Hasan ducked into the crook of his neck, grazing the skin with his teeth and tongue before setting to work on that second hickey.
And then a third.
[JUST IN CASE…]
The salty taste of Pascha’s skin was intoxicating, and any sound he made was a symphony. Hasan’s free arm tightened around the blonde’s waist, holding him as close as he could. With a slight roll of his hips, he ground against him, his body seeking that long-awaited heat and contact. He no longer had any reason to hold back the full force of his desire – and oh, how he wanted more. So much more, and more still than they could accomplish in their current location and its time constraints. He licked at his last mark, then returned to ravishing Pascha’s mouth as he bodily shifted them to the other side of the carriage. He moved Pascha onto the bench there, kissed him until they needed to part for air, and finally sank between the blonde’s thighs.
Inch by inch, he kissed a line down his throat, to his collarbone, to his heart. One broad, rough hand palmed the other half of his chest, down his side and back up again, where he swept the pad of his thumb over Pascha’s n****e. At the same time, he tongued the other, slowly and deliberately, before catching it in his mouth.
This, at least, would be enough to entertain him for the duration of the ride, exploring everything above the belt – and the rest would come later.
Hasan really was so very kind to him. He was being so careful and showing so much concern. It had taken Pascha an embarrassing amount of time to realize that this was probably not the norm for his mocha flavored companion; this was special, for him. And thinking that made him feel the things that he shouldn’t; the warm and tender things that had nothing to do with the hot and heavy energy between them. No matter what happened, Pascha wanted to make sure that they could continue to be friends; he would push those tender feelings down. He would rationalize the special treatment as further evidence that he was, indeed, Hasan’s friend and not someone Hasan would think to pursue romantically. But even so, Hasan did want him and he wanted Hasan in turn. They could do this, as long as he remembered all of those things.
Seeing the slight relief on Hasan’s features when he agreed to really think about it all a while longer, Pascha felt like he had made the right choice. He didn’t want to make his friend worried about him. He was so used to processing his decisions dozens of times and standing firm on the conclusion he reached in the time it took most people to reach a hypothesis; usually no one even bothered to try slowing him down. But then, letting him loose in a workshop was quite a far cry from letting him bed a man, or anyone, for the first time wasn’t it? It was kind of Hasan to make sure that he knew what he was getting himself into.
Pascha was as sure as he was ever going to be and that was plenty sure. Holding Hasan’s hand for the walk back had been nice, but the entire time he had missed the feeling of their bodies pressed together so much that it felt like a physical ache. When they were finally in the carriage once more, away from prying eyes, he just didn’t want to wait even long enough to get back to the school to have Have Hasan’s hands all over him once more. Pascha slowly grinned when Hasan said he might regret pulling this move in the carriage then he leaned close to Hasan’s ear to whisper, ”Oh, I won’t.” Perhaps he would, but the urge to playfully goad the chocolate man on was impossible to resist!
This time when Hasan kissed him Pascha was ready, the student eagerly participating in this oral exam. His sweater vest was removed and quickly forgotten as Pascha’s questing fingers began unbuttoning Hasan’s shirt in turn. The moment more skin was bared he explored it with his hands, drawn to the hard planes of Hasan’s chest and abdomen. He would never have expected he would be so attracted to such a decidedly masculine form, but he was. Was it always that way or was it just Hasan?
Pascha did not know the answer to that and he stopped even trying to think about it when Hasan grasped his hair and attacked his neck passionately with lips, teeth, and tongue. Pascha’s eyes closed in bliss and this time he did not even try to stifle the sound of pleasure that left him. It was a good thing he had done his thinking on the way to the carriage; it was so much harder to focus on actions and consequences when his skin felt this hot and his pants felt so tight.
Hasan ground against him and Pascha instinctively bucked into it, quickly returning to the same heated state he found himself in in the alcove. But this time he was not the only one and that admittedly made him feel even more excited. Excited and also… curious. He knew what it was, of course. And he had more or less ignored his own for eighteen years. But now? Now he had the urge to get his hands on Hasan’s.
Hasan’s lips returned to his and Pascha sought that adventurous tongue with his own. He gasped softly into Hasan’s mouth as the man shifted them in the moving carriage, moving him to the opposite bench and sinking down before him. Pascha’s eyes followed curiously for a moment before he leaned forward, planning to chase Hasan’s lips again. But he was thwarted in the most wonderful way.
There was a time when Pascha had pondered why men were even born with nipples. They didn’t produce milk, after all. What useless little things they seemed to be. He had not even considered that they could feel quite good with the right stimulation. He was certainly learning now under Hasan’s dedicated tutelage, his one hand clenched in the other man’s textured hair and the other on the back of his shirt. Somewhere in his mind he made the mental note to practice this new lesson on his training dummy later.
When the carriage came to a stop, for just a moment Pascha had the presence of mind to feel embarrassed. Should he try to button his shirt? Or at least put on his sweater vest? Would that even be enough? It was definitely not long enough to hide the effects of their contact… And that was not even including the hickies that Pascha would not discover until the next morning.
Hasan had his own ideas and Pascha gasped in surprise as he was pulled from the carriage and thrown over the man’s shoulder. Then he laughed in spite of his red faced embarrassment. He had said he did not want Hasan to hold back and he was certainly getting what he had asked for! And, well… he was having fun! Even though the carriage driver had surely seen and others might, he was having fun and he didn’t even want to feel ashamed of that.
They began the march back to his room, Pascha hiding his face a little against Hasan’s back. It was all well and good to say that he didn’t want to feel ashamed, but he did feel a little silly being carried like a sack of flour. He did have to marvel at how strong Hasan was, though… Pascha idly caressed the muscles of Hasan’s back while he hung there. ”Wow, you are really strong. It’s um… I really like it.” Would it be normal to tell him that his muscles kind of made Pascha want to undress him and touch even more? One way to find out.
”I want to touch you everywhere.” Well, that wasn’t quite what he had meant to say, but it was still true.
