Theoretically Speaking

One Kiss

NESS

***

It wasn't what he expected. Not that it had been on Ness's mind beforehand. It was just. . . different. Not in a bad way. Not even close. Mike's lips were chapped, his hands were freezing, and Ness was squirming from the stubble that tickled his face. The kiss wasn't perfect, but he was.

In contrast to the intense glint in his eyes, Mike's touch was incredibly gentle. He held Ness carefully, and so lightly that he could barely feel it, with the same caution you take to whisper a secret.

Mike's hands departed from Ness's arms. He placed one between the shoulder blades while the other pressed against the nape of Ness' neck. His hands were still cold to the touch, so much so that it doubled the intensity of the chills that went down Ness's spine in waves. As their lips moved in tandem, Mike was firm, but weirdly distant. Besides his face, he kept the rest of himself from making contact. He hovered closely, but never closer than a few inches.

Between them, there was only static. Ness wanted friction. He surprised himself with his own urgency, and that he was already so eager for more. Then again, that was to be expected after putting up with someone as painfully oblivious as Mike for as long as he did. When he couldn't wait any longer, he took it upon himself to close the gap, crashing their lips together at full force.

Mike resisted Ness's pushes by propping himself up by the elbow, lifting onto his knees. The mattress creaked under their weight as they rose together, until Ness dove back in. Mike's back thudded against the headboard. Almost immediately, he gave up the fight, chest caving as he sunk down deeper and deeper into the mattress.

Mike apparently knew what he wanted until he didn't. He went from taking the lead to taking the backseat. Ness could feel Mike coming undone under his hands. He stopped moving when he realized Mike was staying still. Ness removed his lips, then slid back to his knees. He kept a hand pressed against the headboard, staring over Mike

"Is this okay?"

"This-uh," Mike murmured with half-lidded eyes, "it's. . .yeah. It's great."

Ness backed away to leave room for Mike to sit up, but he stayed there, laying in a crumpled heap. "Are you sure?"

Mike's eyes closed again. He tilted his head and stretched out his neck in an awkward attempt to reach Ness's lips. His eyes fluttered open when a hand clamped over his mouth, forcing him back.

"Are you sure?" Ness repeated.

Mike's eyes flitted back and forth from Ness down to the hand covering his mouth. He shrugged.

Ness sighed, "just spit it out."

Mike's mouth moved under his palm. Oh yeah. Ness removed his hand, now resting it in the nook between Mike's shoulder and the base of his throat. Mike readjusted his jaw and swallowed. His pupils pulsated, as though he was struggling to take in what he was looking at.

"Maybe uh. . ." he trailed off, sucking on his lips to moisten them, "slow down."

Ness cupped a hand against Mike's jaw. "We can do that." With the affirmation, Mike's eyes relaxed before he went in for another kiss.

This time it was deeper, but slow enough for Ness to take in the curvature of Mike's mouth and lips. He took careful note of Mike's movements, trying to maintain a steady pace rather than giving in to the ever-increasing hunger. After managing to temporarily stow away his greed, he began to see why Mike preferred it this way.

Ness hadn't kissed many people in his lifetime, and most of those instances were during a few high school plays and his involvement at the community theater. With most of his "experience" being staged, Ness had developed the instinct to make it quick. Ripping off the band-aid made it easier in front of an audience, and was easily interpreted as a sudden act of passion. Other than the most obvious differences, the most notable was how naturally it came to him. Especially considering that he had never gotten nearly this physical before.