#; oh my lord Rain here we go again 🐽

[distopea]

@cantuscorvi​ from here 

All he could focus on was the shape of Raum’s wide shoulders under the whiteness of his shirt. Whether he wanted it or not, there was a fire that had been lightened up the moment he had slapped the mop across his face and chest, provoking sensations he thought that he could fight for so long. Nothing in their confrontation or the bitter words of the pilot could make him think about anything else but the soaped water dripping down his skin, nor the way his shirt was plastered right against his muscles. Nothing. Not even his provocations, his attempt of returning the favor with another well-deserved slap.

It was the sound of the falling bucket that had been working like a bell between them. Mads’ motions were driven by his instincts and reflexes, but his thoughts and mind had left the ship just a few minutes before. He didn’t even anticipate the way Raum flew away from the room, getting deeper inside the lockers to fill the bucket with more water, suddenly so dedicated to his duty. This time, it was that his feet betrayed him. Soon enough he was standing right behind the other one, barely able to refrain his profound nature from the sight presented here.

He wanted him.

He didn’t know why and how, nor for what, but it was screaming inside of his mind like dozens of choirs in the middle of a crowded church. Something in Raum’s attitude, perhaps a way in him that he couldn’t explain, but he wanted him, either to shut him, to bend him down, to touch him or worse. Mads barely said anything, just a little apology for the shirt, but he wasn’t even thinking. He could only face the stubborn and upset eyes of his rival, quite electrical in the middle of this cold room, and he knew, oh too well, that they only needed one push to jump off that cliff again.

Touching wasn’t natural; it was needed. A requirement to soothe his burning soul, a shaky breathing escaping his throat. He was dwelling harder on the impossibility to reason himself, to step away from that mess, to be more responsible than the other one… Because he knew that, out of challenge, pettiness or equal desire, Raum would eventually take the lead. He hated to lose; he wanted to be a part of the game, and win it. Raum’s don’t was nothing but hidden please, and deep down within, even a sailor like Mads couldn’t help but listen to that siren call.

And so, he did; so, they jumped off that cliff. In the nothingness of a river of metal and soaped cold floor, once more, they were colliding like two star-crossed lovers melting in another kiss. Passion was gentle but this time overly suffocating, pinning needles in their pressed bodies, deep until it touched their bones. He didn’t know where and how to stop, or if stopping was an option. He devoured his mouth the way he would need oxygen, only to be pushed away all over again. Raum hadn’t slapped him with the mop but it felt the same. Mads inhaled, lengthily.

“As if cleaning the floor was your priority. Hypocrite… You’re just flying away again!” He snarled, his body immediately crossing the distance again, because it was too painful to stay away, because he couldn’t bear to stop that nonsense once more. He watched the way Raum was gripping that bucket of water before he eventually grabbed it and threw it down in a loud metallic sound echoing against the walls. “Here. All clean now, you happy?” He stated in a long cold stare, consumed by what he had been forced to restrain for too long.

“No.” He said before Raum would try to shove him away again, another step bringing both of their bodies almost glued together. It was his plea, his real apology through the harshness of his voice. He lowered his tone again, his gestures slower when he rolled his fingers around the buckle of his belt, his deep and intense blue eyes focused on his features. “No…” Mads uttered in a soft whisper, expertly opening the other one’s zipper, the tip of his fingers brushing what he had been desperately looking for.