3 parts Ongoing MatureHe knew the risk-knew that offering himself as prey was dangerous. But the sight of Felix's restrained hunger, his almost apathetic demeanor, fueled Han's determination.
"...Just-fuck... just feed on me, goddammit," Han spat out, his voice a mixture of anger and a pleading urgency. He seized Felix's hand with a fierce grip, yanking it toward his exposed neck, his pulse thrumming violently beneath his skin.
Felix's eyes widened in shock, the initial surprise quickly morphing into something softer, more conflicted. He looked at Han, a storm of emotions flickering behind his eyes. Slowly, almost reverently, Felix's fingers traced the contours of Han's neck. His touch was cold-icy, in stark contrast to Han's heated skin. It sent a shiver down Han's spine, an involuntary reaction that left him breathless.
Felix's voice was a tender murmur, a whisper that seemed to cut through the tension like a blade through mist. "You don't want this, Han. Trust me."
The gentleness of Felix's tone and the caress of his icy fingers were intoxicating, almost mesmerizing. Han felt ensnared by the soothing contrast between warmth and cold, the tender intimacy of Felix's touch.
But the moment passed as quickly as it came, and Han shook his head violently, trying to dispel the dizzying haze that threatened to overwhelm him. "Don't tell me what I do and do not want to do," he growled stubbornly, his resolve hardening. He pressed Felix's hand more firmly against his neck, the urgency of his gesture betraying his desperation.
"Han..." Felix's voice was a low, urgent warning, laced with an almost pleading note. "I promise you, you don't want this."
Felix's control wavered as he struggled to maintain his composure. His eyes, usually so composed and guarded, now betrayed a flicker of torment. His fingers twitched, and Han could sense the war raging within him. The hunger was a palpable force, battling against Felix's will, and it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to hold back.