It takes him a moment to find him, but Mick is a familiar form, even from a distance and in the dark. His whole mood shifts on the up as he sees him. He practically makes a beeline for him once he spots him.
Except the closer he gets, the more clearly the scene is set out in front of him and that almost elated feeling crashes like a brick out of a window, shattering into something else entirely. Hurt, most obviously, at first, but that doesn't make sense, does it? But there's something else, too, winding its way through his chest and spreading, sticky across his skin. Something he can't quite put a name to, but when he thinks about it later, he'll realize it felt a lot like MINE being shouted out from every inch of him.
He's not even really aware of what he's doing as he moves across the room with the kind of purpose that only someone on a mission can carry with them. He slides into the space between Mick and Mr. Generic over here, only just barely casting a glance over at the guy who seemed to feel like he had any right to be in Mick's space like that. He's leaned against the bar, facing Mick, "Hey, sorry I'm late."
If he had time to think first, Leonard would never in a million years have done what he does next. But he's not thinking, he just feels the hum of mine pulsing across his skin. He's on auto-pilot and running on feeling, not thoughts or logic like he is usually so prone to do.
It's not even a second after the apology leaves his mouth that Leonard leans up and presses his lips roughly, and hungrily, against Mick's. The kiss is more than just a random deterrent for Mr. Generic to take a hint and get out of here, though, it's something deeper than that, this sudden explosion of something that just fits right under his fingers at the back of Mick's neck, the press of his lips on Mick's, and the way he can just feel that if he turned just a little more, that his body would fit comfortably against Mick's.
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Except the closer he gets, the more clearly the scene is set out in front of him and that almost elated feeling crashes like a brick out of a window, shattering into something else entirely. Hurt, most obviously, at first, but that doesn't make sense, does it? But there's something else, too, winding its way through his chest and spreading, sticky across his skin. Something he can't quite put a name to, but when he thinks about it later, he'll realize it felt a lot like MINE being shouted out from every inch of him.
He's not even really aware of what he's doing as he moves across the room with the kind of purpose that only someone on a mission can carry with them. He slides into the space between Mick and Mr. Generic over here, only just barely casting a glance over at the guy who seemed to feel like he had any right to be in Mick's space like that. He's leaned against the bar, facing Mick, "Hey, sorry I'm late."
If he had time to think first, Leonard would never in a million years have done what he does next. But he's not thinking, he just feels the hum of mine pulsing across his skin. He's on auto-pilot and running on feeling, not thoughts or logic like he is usually so prone to do.
It's not even a second after the apology leaves his mouth that Leonard leans up and presses his lips roughly, and hungrily, against Mick's. The kiss is more than just a random deterrent for Mr. Generic to take a hint and get out of here, though, it's something deeper than that, this sudden explosion of something that just fits right under his fingers at the back of Mick's neck, the press of his lips on Mick's, and the way he can just feel that if he turned just a little more, that his body would fit comfortably against Mick's.