AN: Hi guys, sorry for the delay. I just write better when I'm high off of energy drinks listening to strange music at three in the morning. Can I just say that I want to hug the living shit out of all my reviewers? Yes? K thnx.

Warning: Extreme smut (no, srsly, it's long AF). The cheating-on-my-future-wife-with-another-man, kind of smut. Offended? Leave. c:

oOo

It was dusk by the time the girls had decided to call it a night.

They lied shoulder-to-shoulder on the ocean shore, staring up at the starlit sky.

Jill couldn't have possibly felt more relaxed. Like this, with her closest friends next to her, and with a very special someone lingering non-stop in her mind.

She smiled, a twinkle in her eyes. Her heart fluttered wildly at the thought of her wedding night, just two short weeks away. She couldn't wait. Couldn't stop thinking about her dress and bouquet, or the expensive diamond ring that scintillated brightly on her ring finger. After thirty-nine years, after so much of the painful wait process, she'd finally get her night.

Their night.

Their fairytale.

Nothing could go wrong.

"Let me guess," Claire giggled, "Thinkin' about Chris?"

Jill tried her best to hold back her huge grin, but couldn't. Rebecca chuckled to herself, sitting up to sip on her Piña Colada. Only Chris could make that woman look so happy, so complete. Nobody else had ever been able to. Not like that, anyway.

"Sooo, how'd it happen between you two, huh?" Sherry asked, turning towards Jill with a curious look on her face. "You never actually told us!"

"Well.." Jill sat up, looking out towards the purple horizon. Claire watched her endearingly. Jill had always been so pretty. Untouched by the years. "Last month, on the fifth of December." All three girls nodded, listening intently. "After we made love he just kind of looked at me and asked. He was out of breath, too. I said yes and he kissed me.. Rubbed my feet right after. It was unforgettable."

Claire stuck out her tongue. "Ew! What a creeper, he could've at least waited 'till morning, or something!"

"Well, I thought it was perfect timing," Jill smiled. "Everything was perfect. Wouldn't have it any other way."

Sherry sighed dreamily, her head falling to rest on Jill's shoulder. "I agree. Wish Jake were that romantic."

A short, comfortable silence befell all four women before Rebecca and Sherry stood to get more drinks. The ocean roared loudly, the threat of rain suddenly marking the night sky. Jill's brow began to furrow. She turned towards Claire, the look on her face a little different than before.

"Claire, do you think.." she paused. "Do you think maybe.. I pressured him, somehow?"

"Wha? No! No, of course no–"

"You're right," Jill cut. "Sorry, I'm just.. I don't know. Forget I said anything."

Claire nodded, saying nothing. Instead, she offered her shoulder and reassured her brother's betrothed as best she could.

Jill and Chris had the perfect relationship. They were in love. Chris loved Jill just as much as Jill loved him. Chris was dying to become a father, dying to start a family.

Of course nothing could go wrong.

oOo

A blanket of bulletproof silence settled itself into the room.

Chris stood dumbly by the door, watching as the waiter watched him right back.

Neither spoke.

Finally, the waiter looked down towards the floor and sighed before shamefully making his way towards the door, reaching for the knob.

"I'm sorry, sir, I should just–"

"No," Chris heard himself say a little too quickly, a little too loudly. He stopped the waiter by the shoulder, suddenly forced to face him, suddenly too close. The waiter eyed him carefully, looking a little guarded. Chris was a big man, after all. Over two hundred pounds of sheer muscle with a very masculine voice deep enough to scare away the occasional person. "I mean, no, I'm sorry. About.. all this."

"It's.." the waiter let out, meeting eyes with Chris. He swallowed, seemingly reddening. "It's fine, sir."

"It's Chris."

Then, Chris' hand had fallen from the waiter's shoulder, and nothing else was there to hold him back from leaving.

Nothing.

But the waiter didn't move, just stood there, staring at Chris as Chris stared right back.

This close, Chris could smell him. He smelled like the forest after it rained. He smelled like a fresh pot of coffee. He smelled like the night air. Like the wind and something free. Something young and sweet. Everything that Chris wasn't and would never be.

His eyes, vernal and hazel and filled with youthful curiosity. His jaw, smooth yet prominent. His short brown hair lied tussled in a manner that called out to Chris, made him think of the young male models that plagued the covers of Claire's magazines. His skin was flawless, his lashes long, and then his lips.. God, his lips.

Soft, pink, and deliciously full.

God, he was perfect.

But, 'he' was also a man.

He is everything that Chris had never thought to want.

This man had to be an angel. This man had to be a hallucination of some kind, a figment of Chris' drunken imagination, because people just weren't made to look like that.

Either way, the waiter didn't leave.

Instead, he backed up a little and sat down in the nearest chair, looking away from Chris.

Chris realized he hadn't been breathing the whole time. His heart was racing, pounding hard against his ribcage. He walked quietly towards the bed, careful not to seem too intimidating before sitting.

"Piers, right?"

Piers nodded, awkwardly toying with his fingers as he sat.

oOo

"You did what?"

Jake sighed for the umpteenth time, taking a gulp of his beer.

The dancers had long left, leaving behind a wake of fruity perfumes and unattended boners. On Jake's behalf, anyway.

"I smooth-talked the dang waiter into letting me sneak him into Chris' room, alright? Guy was gullible as hell. Figured Chris'd come right back in here with us to laugh it all off. Jesus, man. The years getting to your ears, or something?"

Leon's eyes widened in shock at Jake's stupidity. Again. "What the hell, Jake? Why?"

"It was a joke! Why the hell else? Why does anyone ever do anything, huh? To have fun! Lighten up, man. You're acting like Redfield had a big, secret, gay crush on the guy that I didn't know about, or something."

Leon didn't say anything. Didn't know what to say. He looked away, coughing against the back of his hand.

Big mistake.

Jake immediately sat up, froze, and grinned. Then he began to laugh. A small laugh that grew into a big laugh. An unbelieving sort of laugh. Either way, Jake was laughing and that was trouble.

Because when Jake laughed, Jake knew something.

"What? Wait, wait wait," he chortled, smacking his thigh. "Are you telling me that.. Chris did have a big, secret, gay crush on the guy that I didn't know about?"

Leon's immediate instinct at that point was to stand up for his friend as best he could, so he did. He knew very well that Chris wasn't very open with the subject of his sexuality, much less with Jake. Hell, even Leon knew very little about the whole thing. Aside from the long-ago incident with Jake's father, Leon knew close to nothing just like everyone else.

"No, okay? Can it. I'll just feel sorry for you once Chris gets his hands on you tomorrow."

And with that, Leon reached to shut off his lamp. He disappeared into the covers, intent on ignoring anything else that came out of Jake's mouth that night.

Jake shrugged and fell back into his bed, lighting a cigarette between his lips.

"Whatever, Covergirl. Redfield's probably still laughing his ass off as we speak while you're over there brooding." He paused, turning towards Leon. "Speaking of which, you wanna do something about this here boner?"

The last thing Jake felt was a pillow being violently thrown at his head.

oOo

Chris wasn't big on the talking.

Actually, he tried his best to keep his social life at a minimal level.

He wasn't a people person, nor talented in the realm of conversation. When he did talk, he found himself being offhandedly rude, seemingly hostile, or just plain boring.

And the last thing Chris wanted at that moment was to bore Piers.

God, anything but that.

He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the ground, scouring for something proper enough to say. To no avail, however.

Piers broke the silence, coughing softly to himself.

"So, when's the big day scheduled?"

Chris looked up, eyes dilated. The booze was still fogging up his mind, or maybe it was just the sudden question that threw him way off track.

That's right. Jill. He was to marry soon. Wedding dress, vows, kids, and all that. Chris felt himself succumbing to a headache to the thought of it all. But he would never admit that to himself, ever.

"Uh," he began, clearing his throat. "In a few weeks from now."

Piers smiled. Chris almost died.

"That's nice," he said, softly. "I bet you're excited."

Chris didn't know what to say. With that man in front of him, and with the thought of Jill suddenly so far away, he didn't know what to think aside from the relentless fact that his pants were beginning to feel way too tight on him. He swallowed, not being able to stop himself from staring like some lovesick ten year-old. Piers had the most perfect, innocent, charming smile a person could ever dare to have.

It simply wasn't human.

"My dad always said marriage was a pain in the ass," Piers tried again, afraid he'd said something that was out of place. "Took it back, though, after my mom left him."

Chris nodded, hand tightening a little on his thigh. He felt like he'd tackle the waiter at any given moment, take him, deflower him in every way possible, and then do it all over again all night long. No one would know, he'd show him a great time. Chris took a deep breath, trying his best to control his erratic, rather disturbing urges.

This was fucking insane.

He'd certainly kill Jake thirty times over the next time he'd see the kid again.

"Do you like it here?"

There was nothing else Chris could think of. But at least it wasn't something creepy or overly sexual. He could only take a wild, dangerous guess on how many years truly separated him and the waiter. Could only take a guess on how many more seconds he'd be able to control himself, tell himself how much he loved Jill and everything about her, how beautiful she was, how badly he wanted to marry her and start a family, how not turned-on he suddenly was because of that deep, yet boyish voice–

"It's.. not the best. But I'm just a temp, trying to save up some money for military school. It's always been a dream of mine, to be a Green Beret," he laughed, looking at his lap. "But, it's silly, I guess. My dad laughs at me all the time about it. Says I wouldn't be able to make it through the first day of training."

Chris blinked. The army was something he knew everything about, through and between. He could help– No, too weird.

"You good with a gun?"

"I can hold my mark, that's for damn sure. Give me a rifle, and I'll shoot anything in its vitals from meters away." Piers grinned, proud of himself. "But enough about me. What do you do?"

Chris avoided his previous occupations like the plague. War and guns were the last things he was dying to talk about with anyone. He'd lost too many good friends, seen too many get blown up into a million, tiny pieces by landmines and other things. Had too many of their brain particles fall on his face, too much blood on his hands. He looked away, shaking his head.

"Nothing too impressive," he said a little grimly.

Piers took it as a sign to shut-up about the whole thing, so he did.

Silence.

"Can I?"

Chris looked up and saw the waiter pointing at the sole bottle of whiskey resting on the nightstand. He nodded apprehensively at first, cautious of the many consequences that may come of it especially in his current.. libidinous, state, but the guy was already standing up and going for it, anyway.

Which wasn't so bad, because Chris had never seen such an ass in his life.

oOo

As the age-long story goes: One thing led to another.

The bottle of whiskey was emptied by the time the hour ended, and both Chris and Piers sat intoxicated, nearly out of their minds.

When the laughter died down, and the last two shots were downed, they stared at each other, a perpetual silence filled with nothing but need, want, tension, and filthy, filthy, unspoken desires.

Neither man moved or said anything for a long while, not until Piers cleared his throat and looked away, presenting the notion of his immediate leave.

He stood, straightening his clothes. "I should probably–"

But Chris couldn't possibly let that sinfully delectable creature escape. Not like this, not in this manner, not now, not ever.

He fetched the waiter by the wrist, spinning him around on his heel.

"You have no idea," Chris said, leaning dangerously close, "how badly I want to fuck your brains out right now."

Piers froze.

And then he lit right up, reddened to the very tip of his ears. Chris was suddenly at his lips, kissing him softly. He shuddered, feeling as two powerful arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him in against a solid, warm wall of sheer muscle. Chris smelled so good. Chris was tall and strong and reeking of masculinity.

Chris was so hellishly handsome.

Time felt to have slowed down, senses maximized. Chris felt his cock begin to painfully solidify, the taste at his lips driving him to the brink of impatience. Piers was sweet, Piers was wet and youthful. Piers was soft, too soft, and Chris wished he could just cut right down to the chase and turn the waiter around, tear his clothes off, and give it to him hard.

But, Chris, even when not in his right mind, was considerate at heart, and would never really allow himself the vicious deed.

He'd felt smitten, enamored, ever since the first time he'd laid eyes on the waiter. Like the people in the movies would. Chris would call bullshit on any other occasion, but this one was different. His heart rammed and fluttered, his mind reeled at the mere touch of the other. If there was one person who could bring Chris Redfield right down to his knees, it would be this guy right here.

Chris deepened the kiss, begging for an entrance. On the very first sign of reluctance, he thought to himself, he'd stop everything cold in its tracks. He was no rapist, and he certainly wasn't entirely demented.

Instead, he chose to be patient, licking Piers' lips, tracing the seams with the tip of his tongue.

Piers, after a short second, succumbed and opened his mouth with a small noise. Needles to say, it drove Chris crazy. He slipped inside, tasting the younger man and savoring every soul-numbing second of it. It was heaven. Chris pulled him closer, swallowing into the kiss whenever the taste overwhelmed him the most. After a searing half-minute of alien emotion and undiscovered passion on Chris' part, Piers eventually pulled away, out of breath.

Immediately, Chris thought it was over. He opened his mouth, ready to string a million apologies all in one long, incoherent sentence. Piers hushed him almost on cue, however, a small smile painted on his lips.

"Let me see you," he said.

And that was all Chris needed to get right to work. He undressed himself, starting with his jacket, and then his belt, a pair of lustful, hazel eyes tracing his every move. By the time he slipped out of his shirt, Piers stopped him. There were hands on Chris' chest now, soft and curious. Piers seemed to have been totally captivated by his tattoos, or something, because his fingers instantly began to trace the etch of one of the pink flowers, amazed.

"You like it?"

Piers nodded, looking up towards Chris.

Chris didn't have much time to register anything by the time Piers had begun to fully undress himself in a nimble flurry of movements, leaving only the bow-tie around his neck.

Saying the guy looked like sex on two legs would be a huge understatement.

Chris couldn't possibly keep his cool anymore. He grabbed the waiter by the hair, hard, and pulled him into a rough kiss, all teeth and tongue. Their arousals met with one another, and the feeling was strange and immoral for sure, but Chris hardly cared for morals at that point.

Last thing he felt himself doing before pushing Piers onto the bed was licking his own lips, taking in the bare sight of the younger man.

And nothing, Chris decided that night, nothing could ever dream to match a body like that.

oOo

Chris had a thing for biting necks, leaving marks, and claiming what was his.

And, so, he did this for a long while, sucking and licking all along the tract of Piers' neck and then to his chest, stomach, and to his pelvis, leaving the younger man disheveled and moaning in a mess of shying glances and blushing cheeks.

He sure looked adorable. Fuckable, and ready for the taking. But Chris wanted to see him completely destroyed before he inevitably fucked into him. Oh yes.

Chris stopped cold in his tracks, however, when he realized there was a hardened dick waiting just a few inches below, bringing him right down to reality.

This was a man he was in bed with.

A man with a dick just like himself.

Chris had never had his face that close to another penis before, never truly meant to. Honest.

He tensed up a little, looked up towards Piers, and saw the endearingly sexy way the guy covered his face with his arm, too ashamed to look into Chris' piercing, blue eyes. Too scared.

Chris looked back down, at the dick jutting proudly right in front of him, thinking to himself for a moment.

Conclusion: Who gave a fuck.

He could do this. Chris strived to pleasure anyone he slept with before he even thought about pleasuring himself, and this would be no different.

Determined, he grabbed the cock by the base, and brought his lips to the tip, slowly. Piers shuddered instantly, a soft whimper escaping him before he hurried to cover his mouth with his hand. Chris lapped at the slit, thinking of things that Jill did to him whenever she went down on him on the rare occasion.

Chris tried not to feel like too much of a shitty human being unworthy of overall existence at the thought of her, at the thought of everything that was happening so quickly.

This was the moment he was currently in, he tried telling himself, this was the moment he wanted, the moment he wouldn't dare pass up.

This was Piers.

He took the cockhead into his mouth, apprehensive of the taste, but using his hand to stimulate the base, anyhow. He could feel Piers begin to tense up, shaking. Taking a breather, Chris reached for the balls underneath with his other free hand, toying them between his fingers as he rolled his tongue again and again all across the slit and under it. He hummed a little, sending vibrations all across the other's weeping cock, making Piers groan loudly in response.

Chris looked up. Piers was biting his lip.

And goddamn, did he not look like the hottest fucking thing to ever exist.

After a short while of sheer torture, Chris pulled away, trailing down even further without really thinking.

Chris honestly had no idea what he was doing at that point.

But for all of life's fuckery and the way things just happened to happen with alcohol doing nothing to help the cause, Chris knows damn well that he's drooling at the mouth to have a taste of every inch of skin on that man's body, or so help him he would keel over and die on the spot.

So, Chris sits up on his knees until he's cautiously placing Piers' legs on either of his shoulders, bringing him up so that Chris is face-to-face with that small, pink hole that he's practically dying to fuck his cock into.

He's used to girls, who buck wickedly or sigh and moan, and who, most importantly, Chris has years of experience getting off to the point of making them scream. He only has a flake of an idea on what he's supposed to be doing down here, between another man's ass, besides, maybe, tracing every pleat of flesh and worming his tongue inside the tight ring of muscle, hoping for the best.

Because that's how it goes when doing this to another dude, right..?

"F-fuck.. Chris.. Please," Piers whispers, begs, and Chris can no longer think, nor hold himself back.

He laps at him, into him, slowly at first, and then he sucks gently. He can feel the goosebumps on Piers' thighs as Chris intensifies his ministrations, can see the cock right in front of his eyes bobbing in fruition. It's all so erotic and wrong and entirely obscene, but it feels so right and the taste at his tongue is nothing but sweet skin and something unique to Piers altogether. Chris closes his eyes, slipping further and further inside, reaching for the cock in front of him with his left hand, jerking it ridiculously slow.

Piers worms on the bed, pleading for more through small whispers and mewls, but Chris does nothing to sate him.

Instead, Chris pulls his hand away and wraps his powerful arms around Piers' waist, never pulling his face away from the other's mounds, forcing the younger man to balance on only his shoulders with only Chris to hold him right up.

The position is lewd and hungry, and Chris feels his cock begin to twitch with the desire to finally be deep inside Piers' lithe body. After a few more seconds of sucking into the sealed cleft, Chris pulls away.

They fall onto the bed, with Chris on top, breathing raggedly into each others faces, a mutual look of perpetual disbelief in both their eyes.

Piers is red all over, a sort of embarrassed look on his face.

"Fuck me," he says, nonetheless, looking directly into Chris' eyes. "Please, Chris."

And so Chris cannot possibly think to stop himself from doing just that.

oOo

Chris lost no time.

He knelt on the bed and had his pants open and off quicker than any other passionate night with Jill.

He asked something that Piers didn't quite catch, as he was much too busy staring at Chris' sizable cock. Chris eventually gave up on trying to get a vocal answer and just took Piers' absent nod as a go-ahead to continue on without the use of a condom.

Chris' cock bobbed and swayed as he kicked Piers' thighs open with his knee, settling in between them.

Piers, for his part, estimated that Chris' tool was thicker than his own, and the length certainly greater than anything he would have ever thought to receive.

Piers had never done anal sex with another man. Let alone, allow another person, in general, to top him.

Piers lit right up at the thought of submitting so shamelessly to Chris, however, catching Chris' lips in a gentle kiss that left him mindlessly swooning for whatever came his way next. Chris was surprisingly soft for how outwardly virile he was. But then again, Chris was amazing and incredible and everything Piers could ever hope to ask for in his short twenty-five years of life.

Would it be too crazy to say at this point that, perhaps, he'd fallen head over heels for a soon-to-be-married man in Vegas that night..?

Piers' attention quickly switched gears the moment he felt fingers press against his hole, hard enough to breach the first layer of muscle.

"Shit.." he gasped, squinting. He wrapped his arms around Chris' neck, holding on for dear life. "Y-yes.."

Piers tried to relax, but a third finger was already working its way in, stretching him before he had a chance to truly adjust. As it was, the pain skated on the edge of uncomfortable, but remained still within the mind-numbing brace of pleasure. He groaned lustily, lifting his knees high in acceptance, welcoming Chris right into him.

Chris remained quiet for the most part, skewering his fingers in and out of the other's hole as best he could. Piers was incredibly tight, tighter than anyone Chris'd ever had the opportunity to defile in this manner.

..He also wondered for a brief moment how he would ever be able to fit himself inside.

"You like that?" Chris whispered, nipping gently on the tip of Piers' left ear.

"God, yes."

Chris took this as his cue. He reached beneath, towards his own cock, brushing it against Piers' own for just a second before he set the very tip between the other's cheeks. Chris lent then, sealing Piers' sodden lips into a wet and gentle kiss. That was all Piers felt before Chris drove forwards, shoving his way into his body inch by inch with a breadth that Piers couldn't have possibly prepared himself for with any amount of foreplay.

Piers tensed up by reflex, but welcomed the breach with the way he'd wrapped his legs around Chris' waist, beckoning him further in despite the winning pain.

"Yes.." he hissed in between short, fiery kisses. "Oh, f-fuck.."

Chris was in another world far beyond.

The velvet heat that entrapped his cock with each second that passed left the coil of orgasm begin to twine much too quickly. It must have been the sinful look on Piers' face. Or the way his eyes would squint in that bashful manner. Or perhaps it was that bow-tie tied around his neck. That bow-tie was something else, Chris decided. But it was the thought of Piers' defined legs wrapped around him as firmly as they were that shot a bolt of electricity right down the entirety of Chris' spine.

Sexy wasn't his word, never was. That had to be the alcohol again, for sure.

"So tight," Chris growled, "So perfect.."

And without much warning or afterthought, Chris began thrusting, sweeping with his hips in such a hellishly sensuous manner that reeked of countless past experiences. He used the first few inches of his cock at first to stimulate Piers' prostate, something Chris had learned by chance back in high school.

It was a good thing Piers lied entrapped in Chris' weight, because he nearly jumped from the bed and into the ceiling, his eyes shooting wide open in shock. Piers was powerless not to cry out.

Chris grinned and continued his ruthless assault on the small bundle of nerves without the pretense of stopping any time soon. He watched as Piers began to practically sob in pleasure, helpless and mumbling gibberish with tears already brimming at his eyes. He wormed in the craze of his own lust, desperate to pull himself into or off of Chris' cock, anything to gain relief, but Chris held him in place, overpowering him greatly and then some; never stopping until Chris had Piers coming with a hoarse scream that everyone in that floor had probably heard through the walls of their suite.

Piers came hard, very hard, spewing white ribbons of cum that soiled them both at the chest.

Piers was panting by the end of it, eyes dwindled into the reef of his skull, overwhelmed and suddenly feeling very exhausted.

Chris wasn't even half finished, however.

He fucked into the younger man, deeply and in one, single, powerful sweep of the hips, grating in until his pelvis nestled comfortably against the other's globes, melding them beautifully.

Piers let out a weak whimper, limp as he was for whatever Chris had left in store. He was in another land far beyond then, seeing stars and odd little blue people, overwhelmed by the continuous pleasure that Chris' cock fucked right into him.

"F-fu.." he whispered. "Oh god.."

Chris gathered him close, blanketing as much of Piers' quivering body as he could with his own bare figure, whispering sweet little nothings into his ear. When Chris felt as though Piers had relaxed a little, he began pumping his hips in long, firm strokes in a manner that left the inevitable noise of penetration soiling the otherwise complete silence of the room.

He rode Piers hard. Extremely hard.

The bed shook repeatedly, headboard hammering against the wall with each onslaught of Chris' hips. The consuming amount of heat that enveloped his cock was otherworldly, milking him gently and quickly right into the promise of a soul-numbing climax. Chris was good at both going fast and lasting long enough to tell the tale. He could, if he really wanted to, last for hours on end.

So. Chris took pride in it.

He liked to show the people he slept with the time of their lives. And with this person being Piers, the waiter of his never-knowing-dreams.. Well, that feeling only flew off the charts.

Chris' face fell to nestle into the crook of Piers' neck, taking in his scent.

Piers felt the way Chris' hot breath washed over him and closed his eyes, shaking and surrendering to Chris' delightfully vicious way of lovemaking. All he could do was hang on to the racing hips above him with his legs and continue to moan as quietly as he could to his heart's content. He felt himself beginning to get hard again, the feel of Chris' thick cock sliding in and out of him not allowing much room for a longer-needed respite.

Not that he really wanted it, anyway.

Piers couldn't imagine himself more perfectly comfortable anywhere else than underneath the weight of this man.

Underneath Chris.

It was over after ten or so minutes. Chris had stopped, catching his breath as he dug his face into Piers' neck. Piers took the opportunity to sigh in relief, ready to slip into the covers with this dream of a man in order to share the rest of the night together in an embrace. In each others arms, tangled within the sheets–

But before Piers could make a move for it, Chris had grabbed him by the hips, flipped him over, and proceeded to start all over again.

oOo

Unlike their first round of fucking, Chris went all out on this one.

It was brutal, it was rough.

He knelt on the bed, pushing Piers' face into the bed before taking him hard from behind.

Piers sobbed into the pillow, mumbling, keeling, and begging for more until his voice was gone altogether. His own prick was engorged to the point of pain, leaking one steady stream of cum into the sheets. Chris plundered him like no tomorrow, bruising his hips and reaching for the occasional kiss, making Piers feel as if he were being repeatedly worshiped by the man behind him.

It felt nice. It felt great. Unbelievably great.

Chris loomed over him like some pagan God of yore, eyes blue as sin, and just as alluring. Piers opened his mouth a few times in an effort at speech, but Chris would only screw him faster and harder into the mattress.

With each thrust of Chris' cock, Piers could mentally count and imagine the countless possibilities of a relationship with him. One full of passion and mind-blowing sex. One like no other. One that would make him feel like the happiest man alive.

Yes, he'd ask Chris to be his before the night was over.

Tell him every single one of his feelings in the most strenuous detail, bathe him in lovesick nothings and compliments, promise him fidelity and a long-lasting future together–

But then Chris fell forward, blanketing Piers in a cape of bare skin from behind, and it was in that moment that Piers noticed, for the first time, the golden ring scintillating brightly around Chris' finger.

And in the precise instance that Piers' heart dropped right down into the pits of his stomach at the renewed realization, Chris exploded deep inside him with enough force to have Piers bursting at the seams with cum, thick streams of it slipping and pooling to his knees.

It wasn't over.

Chris pulled out and spent long minutes gently drinking Piers' dripping hole free of fluids, shocking the younger man with the amount of selflessness Chris still seemed to portray despite all the previous violence. The feeling was lewd yet indescribably wonderful, and it left Piers' eyes retreating far back into their lids. His mouth fell open, brows slanted high in delight.

"C-Chris.. Fuck.."

When Chris was finally finished, he rolled onto the bed next to Piers, completely out of breath.

His chest heaved, and Piers could only watch in incessant amazement from the corner of his eyes, unable to stop himself from panting.

There was a long, comfortable silence between both men, and then Chris closed his eyes, taking a final, deep breath before speaking.

"You are.." he paused. "You're amazing. You know that?"

Piers grinned. Goddamn, did he grin.

He sat up on his elbow, despite his fatigue, and reached to plant a tiny kiss on Chris' lips. He saw Chris actually smile after the action, for the very first time.

Piers swore he felt his heart stop at the mere sight of it. Swore that there couldn't possibly be anything more breathtaking.

That's when Chris cracked one eye open and tackled Piers right back onto the bed, locking him in a long, passionate kiss that lasted well into the hour.

Then, Piers' previous hope for something more between them began to kindle right up again.

He lost himself into Chris' touches, his quiet 'baby's and 'you're incredible's, hoping with all the hope in the world that the impossible would ensue.

..How could it not after a night like this?

oOo

Chris didn't remember much the next day.

The last few things he could recall was somehow managing to tell Piers that he couldn't stay in the room with him that night.

That he wasn't gay, that he was drunk.

That he couldn't possibly leave Jill for another man.

Piers had nodded and left the room without a word.

The door had been slammed hard enough to unhinge it.

Loud enough to never forget the look on Piers' face when he'd stood from the bed.

Chris.. felt like shit.

oOo

Concluding chapter is up next. And trust me, it is very intense.

Pretty comments make me write faster, btw. xx