Faolan took in a lung full of fresh night air as Lucien broke the kiss. After a second of staring into the Frenchman's eyes and fighting the urge to pull him back in, the thought of being seen, and everything that would happen after, crept into his brain. His eyes darted around them to find the streets empty and the windows of houses and businesses dark. He would have spoken, if he had not felt Lucien pulling him away. He was confused at first, but kept his eyes on Lucien as he pulled Faolan into a nearby alleyway.

It was dark here, but Faolan could see perfectly. Lucien pressed him into the brick wall behind him, and kissed him again. Again, his body relaxed into a wave of ecstasy as he pulled Lucien close to him once more. Faolan had always resisted physical contact, not just with strangers but with Lucien as well, and now it became clear to him why he would do this. He was afraid of what would happen if their touch lasted too long, or felt too good to him. He had been afraid that he would do exactly what he had moments before in the street, let instinct and desire take over for his rational mind. Now, there was no fear or worry, no doubt that clouded his mind. He knew that this was exactly where he wanted to be and who he wanted to be with.

As desire overtook him, he wrapped his arms around Lucien's waist and squeezed him tighter until they were completely flush with one another. The kiss broke, but only for Lucien to change direction and begin again. As Faolan felt Lucien's mouth open and his tongue against his lips, he parted them to take it in and found Lucien's tongue with his own. Suddenly all of his clothes felt too tight, unnecessary. In the heat of this moment, he pushed Lucien into the wall opposite them, for once not worried about hurting the Frenchman. His mind was overtaken by arousal, as he let his fingers find the hem of Lucien's shirt and slip under it. His fingertips burned against Lucien's cool skin as he slid his hand up from Lucien's waistband to his rib-cage. He could feel his heart beating under his skin, and swore that the rhythm of it matched his own.