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Mark was warm. Very warm. Warm enough to be considered hot, he was sure, but using that adjective to describe Mark had a tendency to draw out cocky looks and flippant attitudes from the man, so warm was a better choice.
Although, right now Dark was considering switching to the term burning, because there really wasn't any other way to describe this heat. Mark was always warm - warm skin tone, warm eyes, warm looks and warm voice. But inside he was hot, scalding, his mouth like a furnace as Dark licked slowly into it, swallowing the low, throaty moan the man let out as he sank down onto Dark's cock.
Hot. Inside and out, a thin layer of sweat struggling in vain to cool them, creating a slick friction where Mark's thighs were straddling his own. The leather couch under him was cool in comparison, the air of the room still holding a bite from the winter weather outside, but Dark had a hard time imagining that would stick around with the way Mark was radiating heat like a furnace.
His furnace. His heat to take.
"Fuck," Mark breathed when he'd seated himself fully in Dark's lap, Dark's cock sheathed to the hilt inside him. He'd pulled his mouth away to breath puffs of warm air against his ear instead, and Dark could feel the way his thighs were shaking, his body clenching in soft little rhythms as he accustomed himself to Dark's size. "Okay, okay, fuck, gimme a second."
Dark made a low noise in acknowledgment, his hand coming up to slide under the cardigan Mark had failed to take off, pressing a firm line up his spine. "Do take your time," he rumbled into Mark's throat, and he could feel the way he shivered at the sound.
"Jesus, you talking in husky whispers in my ear doesn't really help," Mark laughed breathlessly, turning to press his forehead into the crook of Dark's neck, shoulder blades jutting out to frame Dark's hand as he pressed further up his spine. Dark gave a low peal of laughter in response, turning his head to growl directly into Mark's ear.
"Doesn't it?" he asked, and this time the shiver went through his insides, too, his body clenching down sharply in just the right way to try to steal the breath from Dark's lungs.
"Fucker," Mark muttered into his shoulder, but there was a hint of that amusement in his voice, too. That warmth, that heat, that flooded Dark's gut, and made him greedy and hungry. Like he wanted to steal every bit of that heat with his teeth and tongue and fingers until he burned just as much as Mark did.
Dark's hand slid higher, twining in Mark's hair and prying the man's face away from its little hiding place, exposing burning cheeks to the cool air as he leaned up to steal his panting mouth. He gave him a moment, let him go pliant against him as Dark worked slowly across his lips, under his jaw, down his throat, mouthing wetly along hot skin as Mark groaned above him, before he made his way back up, kissing thoroughly into his mouth, and holding him firm against him.
"Ride me," he growled against his lips, and he could actually see the way Mark's eyes rolled back a little before his eyes fluttered closed, his mouth falling open as he leaned back farther into the hand at his back, and rolled his hips experimentally.
Hot, and slick, and good, and not quite enough. There was a deep animal need in him to thrust up, to flip them over and fuck into him with raw strength, take what he wanted. But it would be worth it, if he waited. If he was patient.
It was always worth it with Mark.
"Fuck," Mark whispered, barely audible as he rolled his hips again, and then again, each slow movement primal and instinctive and needy. "Dark."
Dark's free hand found it's way to the jut of Mark's hip bone, wrapping possessively over it as he steadied the messy movements, his other hand a firm anchor for Mark to lean into as he slowly found his rhythm. Mark's arms had come up to press into Dark's shoulders, and he was leaning into them now, using them for leverage as he rose up a little higher on each thrust, until he was riding him properly.
"That's it," Dark purred into Mark's ear, the sweaty hair from the man's brow tickling his cheek. His own voice sounded a little off, a little rougher, a little deeper, but it had a steadiness to it that had abandoned Mark's. "Deeper. I want you to feel me for days."
"I'm- going to- god," Mark ground out between deep, stuttering breaths. He'd leaned forward again, shoving his face in the little space between his arm and Dark's throat, and Dark was free to get a better, two-handed grip on Mark's hips, holding him steady as he started to dictate the thrusts. Mark let him without a fight, his upper half limp as his lower fell into the steady, liquid movements Dark's hands were guiding him into.
So warm - hot - and perfect, each thrust sending a new wave of heat down into Dark's core. He could feel the hot shape of Mark's cock pressed against his stomach, trailing sticky lines of precum across his skin, and with each roll of his hips, Mark was starting to grind it into Dark's stomach, desperate for friction. He could feel the man's desperate burning pulse under his lips as he nipped at his throat, feel the heat of his wet breath against his shoulder as he sank lower and lower into Dark, like he wanted to try to share the same space. It was hot and heady and delicious, and Dark drank it all in with a feral groan.
Mark didn't take long to get there, his movements turning messy even with Dark's guiding hand, and soon he was more interested in grinding - his cock into Dark's stomach and Dark's cock into him - then actually riding him. Not that Dark minded - he was too interested in the little hitch in Mark's breathing, the quickening in it, and the clumsy fingers reaching up desperately to twine in the hairs at the back of Dark's neck. And then Mark was spilling between them, groaning brokenly into Dark's throat, and Dark yanked his face up to swallow those sounds.
"Dark," Mark moaned around his lips, too weak to kiss back even as his hands clumsily tried to tug him closer. "Dark, fuck, please, please . . ."
"Shhh," Dark crooned back, nipping sharply across his lip just to feel it raw beneath his tongue. His fingers made their way back to Mark's hips, pressing deep into that tan skin, imagining the bruises he'd be able to trace soon. "I'm not done with you."
Mark made a noise, something high and reverent, as Dark flipped them on the couch, pressing the younger man firmly into the cushions as he pressed back into his pliant body, forcing his legs back at a harsh angle. Mark keened, but his hands came up to grab behind his knees, holding his legs out of the way for him as Dark drew back to slam into his trembling body.
"Fuck," Mark gasped out, an exclamation Dark was sure was supposed to be a shout before he stole his breath with his new, powerful thrusts. Mark's body wasn't ready for it, still reeling from his orgasm, sensitive and raw, and he could see the way he was battling with the new sensations, his mouth locked open, his eyes blown wide, and if it wasn't for the way Mark's fingers were biting bruises into his arms as he tried to drag him closer, Dark might have worried it was too much.
But Mark liked this part. And, oh, Dark did too. That moment when it rode that border of just too much, where his body struggled to decide if the fierce, raw pleasure was incredible or intolerable, where he looked up at Dark with those open, raw eyes that were just perfectly tinged with fear to flavor the pleasure.
It was the kind of moment Dark would have loved to drag out into minutes or hours, just watching the tears building up in Mark's eyes, watching them spill down the sides of his face into his hair, watching the silent pleas and praise dance over his lips as his body eventually made a valiant attempt to rouse itself again. But Dark was, unfortunately, only a man. And there was no way to watch that kind of display and hold on to the last shreds of his control for more than a few moments.
He buried his face into Mark's shoulder when he came, digging his teeth in to stop the feral snarl that tried to rise up in his throat as he made a last few messy thrusts into the tired body beneath him. Mark's hands were scoring lines down his back, twisting up to twine in his hair and tug, before he finally fell limp beneath him, panting alongside Dark as they both struggled to catch their breath.
They stayed like that for a few long minutes, heartbeats slowing gradually in the quiet of the room. Mark's fingers were petting softly through the hair at the back of Dark's neck, and Dark took a moment to note that, even now, they were warmer than he was. There was a distinct heat between them, captured where their skin was still pressed together, but there was still a kind of warmth to Mark that just seemed impossible to steal.
"You're heavy," Mark complained after a while, making no effort to shove him off, and Dark huffed in amusement, laying another quick nip into the mark he'd left on his shoulder. Mark hissed, muttering a quick, "Ass," but Dark was already lifting off of him, wincing slightly at the cold air of the room on his wet skin.
That discomfort would fade quickly. He didn't mind the cold, usually, but there was always just a moment, when he pulled away from Mark, where the world seemed far too cold for his liking. Momentary and unimportant.
But as he pulled away, he glanced down, catching Mark's rich brown eyes as he leaned up onto his elbows, and Mark smiled. That one smile he didn't have a name for, the one where his eyes crinkled, and his face softened, and something in his expression deepened into some warm thing that bloomed in Dark's chest.
And Dark leaned back down again, pressing his lips back to Mark's as that feeling unfurled further, and he decided he didn't want to feel cold quite yet.