***
They stumbled through the doorway, hands clumsily groping. The moment they were out of sight, Alistair turned. He grabbed Almos by the neck and slammed him against the wall, a fierce hunger in his eyes.
Almos smirked, his lips curling with amusement. "Finally," he whispered, his tone both playful and predatory. He pushed his knee between Alistair's thighs, letting it slide up against the growing hardness there, a delicious tease. "There you are, my love. I was starting to wonder if the aphrodesiac wasn't working properly."
Alistair grunted, his lips crashing against Almos's in a hungry, demanding kiss. Almos's moan reverberated against Alistair's tongue, but he didn't have time to savor it; he was already on to the next. He sucked hard on Almos's lower lip, the delicate skin between his teeth, the taste of him filling his mouth. Almos gasped, arching against him, his hands fumbling with the buttons of Alistair's shirt.
Alistair took a step back, dragging Almos with him. He kicked the door shut behind them and dragged Almos down the hall toward the room. The walls were too thin here; he didn't want the entire party to hear the sounds of their pleasure.
As soon as they reached the door, he slammed it shut and pinned Almos against it, crushing their lips together. The back of Almos's head hit the door with a dull thump, but the pain barely registered; all Alistair cared about was the taste of his lips, the warmth of his tongue sliding against his own, the desperate sounds Almos made when Alistair's hands slid down his hips.
"H-hey—" Almos panted when Alistair finally released his lips. "Mmm—don't rip the buttons off my shirt."
Alistair snorted. "They're already coming off anyway," he retorted, already sliding his hand down the front of Almos's shirt, yanking at the buttons until they snapped, one after the other. Almos's soft gasp went straight to Alistair's cock; the way the fabric hung open, exposing his pale chest, the flush spreading over his cheeks and neck, his chest heaving—
Alistair's lips fell to the hollow of Almos's neck, sucking hard as he dragged him away from the door and down the hall. The movement exposed more of Almos's chest; Alistair's breath hitched when he noticed the glittering ink on his chest, a series of elegant script surrounding the phoenix on his collarbone. Alistair couldn't help himself; he dropped his mouth to the ink, dragging his tongue over the beautiful design.
Almos gasped, his hand shooting up to curl around the back of Alistair's head, holding him in place. "Alistair—" he whispered, his voice tight with need. "Fuck—please, I need—"
Alistair didn't want to wait. He shoved Almos against the wall again, pressing his mouth to his, stealing the breath from his lips. Almos moaned into the kiss, the sound raw and desperate. His hands tugged at Alistair's clothes; Alistair barely noticed the snaps of buttons hitting the floor until Almos had finally dragged Alistair's shirt free.
He arched into the touch as Almos slid his hands up his stomach, brushing against the hardness beneath his pants, his own cock hard and aching. "Fuck—Alistair, please—" Almos whispered, his breath hot against Alistair's ear. His lips brushed against Alistair's jawline, a teasing promise of what was to come. "Let me make you feel good. Please."
The soft whisper was like a knife sliding under his skin. The voice was familiar—no, the voice was not. But the words, the gentle plea, it tugged something inside him that made his knees weak, his heart beat faster. Almos's hand was warm on his skin; his lips felt like silk against the edge of his jaw.
"Mm—" Alistair leaned into the touch, his heart thundering in his chest. "Do it—" he breathed, the words slipping past his lips before he could stop them.
Almos's lips curved into a mischievous smirk against his skin. He straightened up, pushing Alistair away. "That's better," he murmured. "Now come on."
He reached out, grabbing Alistair by the wrist and dragging him deeper into the hall. Alistair went without a fight, his mind still muddled from the spell. He couldn't think straight, not with Almos's scent filling his nose, his touch lingering on Alistair's skin, a memory triggerering in the back of his mind.
Alistair slammed Almos against the wall a fierce hunger in his eyes. He grabbed Almos by the neck and slammed him against the wall, a fierce hunger in his eyes. "Finally," he growled, his lips crashing against Almos's in a hungry, desperate kiss.
Almos smirked, his lips curling with amusement. "Finally," he whispered, his voice dripping with sarcasm, but there was a flicker of triumph in his eyes too. "You took your sweet time, my love."
Alistair snorted. "Hurry up and strip. I'm not going to wait all night, we'll talk later." he said gruffly, pushing Almos back toward the bed.
"Oooh, impatient, are we? And here I was thinking you were going to ravish me."
"I will." Alistair retorted, his voice rough as he followed Almos, the sound of his steps heavy against the carpet. "And then, you have some explaining to do."
Almos rolled his eyes, dropping down onto the mattress. "You're not going to like my answers, know you too well, and you're not going to like any of it."
"Just shut up and strip. I want to fuck you before we can talk this out." Alistair demanded, grabbing him by the back of his head and kissing him fiercely. He slid a knee between Almos's legs, and Almos arched up, a soft moan slipping from his lips.