Chapter 454 - 66 - Aching with want *

He could feel Chen trembling, feel the effort it took for him to hold himself back.

and something in Skyy's chest cracked open at the realization that Chen was fighting this—for him. Protecting him, even from himself.

Then Chen pulled back.

He rolled away with a harsh, shuddering breath, turning his back to Skyy and facing the grimy wall. His shoulders heaved with silent, ragged breaths, his hand coming up to press against the concrete as if he needed something solid to anchor himself.

Skyy lay there, staring up at the water-stained ceiling, his own chest heaving.

His body felt hot and confused, aching with a need he didn't fully understand.

The place where Chen had been hovering felt cold now, empty, and Skyy pressed his thighs together against the strange, insistent throb between them.

'Did... did I want that?'

The question circled in his mind, relentless and terrifying. 'Do I want to be with Chen?'

He thought back—thought of the moment they had met, Chen's gruff exterior hiding a gentleness that had surprised him.

Thought of every time Chen had appeared at his side, silent and steady.

Saving his life. Saving him again and again, in big ways and small, never asking for anything in return.

Chen had been there. Always there.

And he... he had done nothing. Had accepted every kindness, every protection, every heated glance that he had pretended not to see, and had offered nothing back.

Shame curled in his stomach, mixing with the lingering arousal until he felt sick with it.

Chen had given him everything, had held himself back even now when he could have taken, and Skyy had repaid him with cowardice and ignorance.

But he didn't have to.

Skyy turned his head, looking at Chen's rigid back, at the tense line of his shoulders, at the hand still pressed flat against the wall as if he could push away his own desire.

He thought of the way Chen had smelled—'want, need, love'—and of the terrifying, exhilarating possibility of carrying something of Chen's inside him.

He could do this. He 'wanted' to do this.

Not out of obligation. Not as repayment.

But because lying there in the dark, with Chen's warmth still clinging to his skin and his scent still lingering in the air, Skyy realized with startling clarity that he had never wanted anything more in his life than he wanted Chen's hands back on him.

Wanted Chen inside him.

Wanted to be his, completely and irrevocably.

He would stop pretending he didn't feel this heat, this pull, this terrifying, wonderful thing that had been building between them for months.

But for now...

Skyy shifted onto his side, hesitantly, and pressed his chest against Chen's rigid back.

He felt the other man stiffen, heard his breath catch, but Skyy didn't pull away.

Instead, he tentatively, carefully, draped his arm over Chen's waist and buried his face between his shoulder blades.

"I know you're awake," Skyy whispered, his voice trembling but steady. He raised his hand and gently caressed the back of his head.

Chen went completely still.

"And I know what you were doing," Skyy continued, his fingers curling into the front of Chen's shirt, holding on tight. "And I... I think I want you to finish."

His eyes tightly closed. He had asked for it… it was embarrassing as hell but… he really did want him.

Chen's hand came up, covering Skyy's where it rested against his chest. His grip was crushing, desperate, and when he spoke his voice was barely human.

"Skyy," he rasped. "You don't know what you're asking for."

"I do," he insisted, though his heart hammered with fear and nerves. "I know exactly what I'm asking for. I want... I want you, Chen. All of you. Even the parts you're afraid to show me."

Chen turned then, rolling to face him, and the naked emotion in his eyes stole his breath. He looked wrecked. Undone. His composure had completely shattered, leaving only raw, vulnerable need.

"You're sure?" Chen asked, the words barely audible. "Because if I start, Skyy... if I touch you like that... I don't know if I can stop. I don't know if I can be gentle."

Skyy reached up, cupping Chen's face in his hands, feeling the rough stubble against his palms. He pressed their foreheads together, breathing him in, and whispered the truest words he had ever spoken:

"Then don't be gentle."

The last of Chen's restraint shattered with a sound like a sob.

His mouth crashed down on his, hungry and desperate, and he opened for him with a cry that was swallowed by the kiss.

Chen's hands were already moving, trembling with restrained urgency as they found the hem of his loose t-shirt. He pulled it upward with a desperation that bordered on violence, but his touch when the fabric cleared his head was achingly gentle, as if he were handling something precious and fragile.

"Beautiful," Chen breathed, the word rough and reverent.

he lay bare before him, chest heaving with nervous, excited breaths.

The cool air of the storage room hit his heated skin, raising gooseflesh across his arms and chest.

He felt exposed, vulnerable, but the way Chen looked at him—

Like he was starving

Like he was the only thing that could satisfy him, made him feel powerful too.

Chen descended slowly, his mouth finding the hollow of his throat first, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of his neck, across his collarbones.

His head fell back with a soft whimper, his fingers tangling in Chen's hair, holding him close. Every press of Chen's lips sent sparks shooting through his nerves, lighting him up from the inside out.

Then Chen moved lower.

He kissed his way down his sternum, his tongue tracing the ridges of his ribs, the flat planes of his stomach.

When he reached his chest, he paused, looking up with dark, hungry eyes that asked for permission even as they demanded submission.

"Please," Skyy whispered, arching up into him.