Unchosen Crown

WISHFUL THINKING

The click of the door closing behind them echoed through the hotel room, but Oliver barely registered the sound before pushing Ian against the wood. However, before Ian could protest, their lips collided with an urgency that Oliver had no intention of disguising.

It had been almost a month since he last had his hands on Ian, and Oliver wasn't going to waste time on pleasantries.

His hands roamed Ian's body eagerly, memorizing every curve, every tense muscle under the thin shirt. He pressed his hips against Ian's, an exasperated groan escaping his throat as a wave of desire coursed through his veins.

Ian's hands tried to calm him, squeezing his back, shoulders, waist, and each light touch was enough to set Oliver ablaze.

"Hell," Oliver panted, pulling back briefly to suck the soft skin of Ian's neck, eliciting a breathy laugh from him. "I hate being so far away from you."

With trembling fingers, he grabbed the hem of Ian's shirt, pulling it up hastily, buttons popping and clattering to the wooden floor. The sight of Ian's bare torso, his defined muscles gleaming in the golden sunset light streaming through the curtains, only made Oliver hungrier.

"Oliver, slow down," Ian chuckled softly against his lips, though his eyes were dark with desire as Oliver slid his hands inside Ian's pants. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Don't ask me to," Oliver shot back with a defiant look, watching Ian close his eyes in delight as his fingers found warm skin. "I've missed you so much it hurts."

Oliver wanted everything at once. He wanted to strip Ian of those pants and kneel before him. He wanted to throw himself on the bed, on his hands and knees, and beg for Ian to touch him in a way no one else could. He wanted to take him right there against the door, wild and relentless.

He was on the verge of madness, and Ian seemed to sense it.

Ian grabbed his shoulders, holding him gently at a distance. He pressed a soft kiss to the tip of Oliver's nose, his eyes conveying a calm that contrasted sharply with Oliver's desperation.

"What's wrong?"

"At this rate, you're going to break one of my ribs," Ian teased, and Oliver sighed, frustrated.

"Sorry, it's just..." He tried to justify the longing he felt for Ian, but knew he understood, even if he didn't finish the sentence.

"I know," Ian interrupted him with boundless kindness, and Oliver calmed slightly. "We don't have to rush, Oliver. No one is going to find us here."

Indeed, they were hidden away in a charming inn south of Madrid, far from prying eyes. Outside, a beautiful garden stretched out, tree branches swaying gently in the breeze. The windows were open, and the warm sunset light bathed Ian's tanned skin in a golden glow that took Oliver's breath away.

Ian approached again, holding Oliver's face between his hands as he pressed their lips together. Oliver let Ian kiss him calmly, but in a completely sensual way. He could feel the soft touch of Ian's tongue seeking his own, and he surrendered to him, melting against his body, pressing against his firm chest. Desire consumed them, but Ian kept the moment tender, attentive to each of Oliver's reactions.

"Better?" Ian asked, separating their lips by a millimeter. Oliver nodded in response, allowing his hands to slide gently over Ian's body, no longer consumed by the frantic urgency of before. A soft smile curved Ian's lips as his fingers traced a warm line along Oliver's jaw. "I want you to feel good," Ian added, his voice husky with desire as he stepped back, giving Oliver space to breathe in his intoxicating scent.

"There's a way to make this even better," Oliver offered, seeing Ian's eyes light up with understanding.

Without hesitation, Oliver sank to his knees before Ian.