This was almost more than Faolan could bear. To be this close, to be touching Lucien in this way...it was as if this were all happening in a dream. He could feel Lucien's hand on his chest and wanted to tear his own shirt off so they could have more skin-to-skin contact. It was intoxicating, the power of the Frenchman's hands, his lips, his breath...more so even than the bottle of whiskey they had shared. 

A low rumble started in his chest and slowly turned into a growl, a vocalization of his desire. Though his body was moving on its own, he knew this was what he wanted, more than anything in this moment. He pressed himself into Lucien's body, sandwiching him in between himself and the brick wall behind them. One of his hands came up and slapped onto the wall by Lucien's head for support, and the other slid down the Frenchman's body to his hip. Faolan's thumb hooked into the waistband of his trousers, and he subconsciously made to lift the Frenchman off of his feet...

And that was when he heard laughter echoing down the street they had just come from. The foreign sound penetrated his mind, which was nearly taken over by desire. He could hear footsteps, and men and women talking, and they were getting closer. Sharpness returned to his once-dulled senses, and he pulled away from Lucien to break the kiss. His body went slack and he released Lucien from his grasp. The Frenchman continued to lean in, but noticed that Faolan's attention was elsewhere as he opened his eyes. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but Faolan held a finger to his lips to indicate silence.

Long seconds passed them as they waited for something to happen, and eventually Faolan realized that the passersby were coming toward them. Although he knew he was disheveled, cheeks flushed hair a mess, shirt unbuttoned and twisted, he knew they had to leave. He pulled away from Lucien and straightened himself up, saying quietly, [color=a36209]"Someone's coming, we have to go."[/color]

At this, he made to leave the alleyway, but paused before doing so as he realized he was till grasping Lucien's wrist. He let it linger there for a moment, his irrational mind desperately trying not to break the contact, before allowing his fingers to fall away. Once he felt that he was passably mussed, he walked out of the alleyway and turned toward their boarding house.

The group of people were only a few yards down the walk. It looked like several men and women walking arm in arm, whispering and laughing with each other. Faolan briefly glanced at them, but picked up the pace, hoping they did not see the two leaving the alley.