Dear Internet- I get the feeling this fic won't be hugely long, maybe five more chapters, little ones like this. I own no one, sorry to disappoint, but I do like writing this, so I will return to this pairing in the future. And we've still got a while to go in this one, I think, we'll see. I make no promises, save for love to my reviewers, followers, etc.

But he could almost remember that headrush that was emotion, he could almost imitate it, and he'd do that, for this one. He'd hope that would be enough. He captured Sergei's lips with his own, tilted the slightly slimmer man back into the bed, claiming his mouth and wondering what it felt like past the way his sensors went mad with the threat of overheating. Sergei kissed back hungrily, almost violently, letting searching hands press under Bryan's shirt and try to find places to make him want it too. He already wanted it, he couldn't tell Sergei nothing was going to make him feel. The Russian slid Bryan's shirt off and threw it to the side, traced the long scar over his chest, kissed it, then his throat, then his lips.

Bryan didn't know what else he was supposed to do, so he made love to the other man. Couldn't decide if it was really making love, or fucking, but he liked the idea of making love better, so there it stayed. And he held Sergei after, face buried in the fall of black hair, kissing the back of his neck. Sergei turned around and looked at him quizzically.

"Oh yeah, said I didn't like cuddling, didn't I?"

A nod.

"Think I lied, this is kind of nice." So he gathered the other man into his arms, spent and sloppily happy, or at least content. Fucking hadn't been as violent as he had thought it was going to be, as soon as they were bared to each other he had an urge to protect, to care for his mate. It was primal, basic, less than human so he couldn't argue it, simply follow the motions and laugh a little when his sensors told him he was in danger. Danger of hyperventilating, overheating, the chemicals being released into his bloodstream could potentially harm him. He thought it was funny that merely partaking in orgasm could bring him so close to full system failure. He wanted to do it again.

"Good for another round?" Bryan smirked.

Sergei held up his hand to mean, he supposed, give him a few more minutes.

"Not gonna' give me an answer?"

I already did, spoke the crook of his brow.

"Just say something. Yes, or no, or fuck you. Or fuck me. I know you can."

He shook his head, began to sit up.

Bryan pushed him back into the bed. "No. You're not going anywhere until I've gotten some sound out of you. You want me, you got me. Temper and all." He sneered, pinned the Russian to the bed.

Sergei tried to maneuver his way out from under the other man, to no avail. He wasn't human, his strength mechanic, overwhelming. Giving in, he laid back and stared Bryan down defiantly.

"Good. Now say my name."

He was greeted by silence and finally understanding how someone young, slight and haunted could have so much control over those around him. Were it not for determination he would have backed down from those cold blue eyes.

Instead he did something he immediately regretted. He slapped him, hard, kept him pinned to the hotel bed. "Speak."

He got nothing for his violence. He felt Sergei's fists clench, the man bit his lip. Fuck, Bryan figured, gone and ruined it now, he doesn't want me anymore, not at all. There was none of that strange affection in his eyes anymore.

So he did the only thing he could think to do. He pressed his lips to Sergei's and begged between kisses, please, just once, please, let me hear your voice. Eventually he yielded, not to speaking, but kissed back. At least he wasn't completely lost, Bryan realized, at least he hadn't ruined this entirely. But he had created a rift, one that would only grow until someone caved. He knew neither of them would.