First spark in the dark 2
783 Words
Alex followed without argument, leaving cash on the table.
They slipped out the back door into the narrow alley behind the bar.
The night air was cool and damp, carrying the scent of rain that hadn’t quite fallen yet.
A single security light buzzed overhead, casting harsh shadows.
The moment the door clicked shut, Dami spun him around and pushed him against the brick wall.
Their mouths crashed together. This kiss was nothing like the careful, whiskey-fueled one on the couch. It was raw, urgent, years of restraint shattering in seconds.
Dami’s hands framed Alex’s face, thumbs stroking his jaw as their tongues met—hot, demanding, perfect.
Alex groaned into it, fingers fisting in Dami’s hoodie, pulling him closer until their bodies aligned from chest to thigh.
Dami tasted like beer and want.
His stubble scraped deliciously against Alex’s smoother skin.
When Dami tilted his head and deepened the kiss, sliding one thigh between Alex’s legs, the friction drew a sharp, needy sound from Alex’s throat.
“Quiet,” Dami murmured against his lips, but he was smiling—dark, satisfied. “Don’t want anyone hearing how good you sound for me.”
Alex’s hips rolled involuntarily, chasing more pressure. His hands slipped under Dami’s hoodie, finding warm skin and the hard ridges of muscle.
He traced the phoenix tattoo with his fingertips, feeling Dami shudder at the touch.
“You’re killing me,” Alex breathed when they broke for air.
“Good.” Dami’s mouth moved to his neck, sucking lightly just below his ear—the same spot he’d marked that first night. “I want you so f*****g bad it hurts.”
Their bodies pressed harder against the wall. Alex could feel Dami’s arousal, thick and insistent against his hip.
He wanted to drop to his knees right there in the dirty alley.
Wanted to taste every inch of the man who’d haunted him for years.
Instead, he slid a hand down, palming Dami through his jeans.
Dami hissed, hips jerking forward. “Alex—”
“Just touching,” Alex whispered, voice wrecked. “We said no further.” But his hand stroked slowly, feeling the heat and hardness through denim.
Dami’s forehead dropped to Alex’s shoulder, breath coming in ragged pants.
He returned the favor, cupping Alex firmly, thumb rubbing in maddening circles until Alex’s knees threatened to buckle.
They moved together like that—frantic, clothed, desperate. Kisses turning sloppy and wet.
Hands stroking, squeezing, teasing. The danger of the public alley only heightened everything.
Any second someone could step outside for a smoke.
The thrill made it exciting, addictive.
Dami nipped at Alex’s collarbone. “I want to take you home. Want to strip you slow and hear you moan my name properly.”
Alex shuddered, pleasure coiling tight at the base of his spine.
“We can’t. Not yet.”
“Not yet,” Dami agreed, but his hand tightened, stroking faster.
“But soon. Tell me you want it.”
“I want it.” The words tumbled out, honest and raw.
“God, Dami, I want you.”
That confession seemed to undo something in Dami. He kissed Alex again—deep, claiming, almost reverent.
Their rhythm faltered as pleasure built, sharp and inevitable.
They didn’t finish—not fully—but they rode the edge together, breathing each other’s air, bodies trembling with restraint.
When they finally stilled, foreheads pressed together, the alley felt quieter. Only their ragged breathing and the distant hum of traffic remained.
Dami brushed a thumb over Alex’s swollen lower lip.
“This is going to ruin us.”
“Probably,” Alex whispered. But he was smiling, small and helpless. Dami kissed him once more—soft this time, almost tender. “Worth it.”
They slipped back inside separately, five minutes apart, like nothing had happened.
Alex finished his whiskey with shaking hands. Dami nursed his beer, eyes never leaving him across the booth.
Later, in the parking lot, they stood beside Alex’s car under the flickering streetlight.
“No promises,” Alex said quietly. “We keep it secret. We stop if it gets too dangerous.”
Dami nodded, but his hand caught Alex’s wrist, thumb stroking the pulse point.
“One more thing.”
“What?”
Dami leaned in, lips brushing his ear.
“Next time, I’m not stopping at touching.”
A shiver ran down Alex’s spine. He watched Dami walk away, shoulders broad under the hoodie, gait loose and confident despite everything.
Alone in his car, Alex gripped the steering wheel and let out a shaky breath.The spark had officially caught. And the fire was only just beginning to rage.
- Writer
