Chapter 14
Mads’ lips were cold. Lionel almost pulled back simply because of the shock of the chill on his own warm mouth, but Mads’ hands cupped his face, holding him in place.
Mads breathed out slowly through his nose, exhaling against Lionel’s parted lips, and Lionel instinctively drew it in.
The next breath Mads took, Lionel matched it—hesitant, shaky, but there.
Again. And again until the jagged edges of panic began to dull and the pounding in his skull eased just enough for him to realize he was clutching at Mads’ hoodie like a lifeline.
Mads pulled back only slightly, pressing their foreheads together. His own breathing was rough, uneven, as if the effort of keeping calm for Lionel’s sake had drained him. “It’s okay,” he whispered, voice raw. “You’re okay. Just keep breathing with me.”
Lionel nodded, though tears still slid down his cheeks unchecked. His lungs finally expanded fully, the first deep, clean breath he’d taken in what felt like hours. As his breaths fully slowed, and his gasping sobs petered out, he realized just how soft Mads’ lips were.
His eyes flicked open, widening as he realized exactly how Mads had managed to calm him down. Mads’ eyes were shut so he didn’t notice Lionel’s shocked gaze, and his mouth remained lightly pressed against Lionel’s.
When he no longer had to focus so much on breathing, Lionel’s mouth slowly reacted in the way it was supposed to, moving slowly against Mads’ in unhurried, unsure motions. He felt Mads relax as well, his grip on Lionel’s jaw and neck loosening until he was cradling Lionel’s face in a gentle grasp.
Lionel wasn’t used to being kissed—he was usually the one taking charge in these types of scenarios—but he melted against the feeling as Mads pushed and pulled on his mouth.
Lionel was still shaking a bit, his breath uneven as he leaned heavily against Mads, the man’s arms coming to wrap around him just before he felt himself tip over to one side entirely.
The worst of the panic had passed, though there was still a tightness in his chest and an exhaustion settled deep in his bones; he could barely feel it past Mads' hands and lips on him. Lionel pulled his lips away to be able to take in a large, shaking breath that rattled through his ribcage. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Mads’ shoulder, breathing him in.
Mads didn’t move away, just let Lionel take the moment he needed.
His hand had moved to the small of Lionel’s back, helping to ground him as his thumb traced slow circles against the fabric of his shirt.
Lionel swallowed dryly, eyes squeezing shut. His head tilted without conscious thought, and his nose brushed against Mads’ jaw. Mads pressed back against him, turning his head just enough for Lionel’s lips to graze the corner of his mouth hesitantly, his breath shaky but no longer from panic.
His hands moved from his own lap to the front of Mads’ shirt, fingers curling into the blood-stained fabric.
“Are you okay?” Mads murmured the words against Lionel’s temple, nose pressed into his hair.
“Kiss me again,” Lionel breathed.
Mads kissed him less gently this time—more like he actually wanted Lionel, not just that he wanted to comfort him. He exhaled against Lionel’s mouth, and Lionel could feel the heat of it, the steady presence of Mads pressing closer, his fingers slipping to the nape of Lionel’s neck.
Lionel sighed against him, eyes fluttering shut as he let Mads mold his lips however he liked.
The warmth sent a slow, melting sensation through him, something that unraveled the last of the tension in his body.
Mads’ fingers curled at the back of Lionel’s neck, his thumb brushing against the edge of his jaw.
Lionel’s own hand twitched before sliding up under the sweatshirt he was still grasping for dear life, fingertips pressing lightly against Mads’ ribs, feeling the way his breath hitched under his touch.
He felt Mads’ tongue brush against the line of his mouth a moment later and opened his mouth easily to let him in.
Mads’ hand flexed on the back of Lionel’s neck, his cold fingers skimming up to cup Lionel’s face again.
His thumb brushed lightly over the hollow just beneath his cheekbone.
The touch sent a slow, spreading heat through Lionel’s chest. He made a soft, unsteady sound against Mads’ lips, barely more than a breath, but Mads heard it—felt it.
He responded by pressing closer, tilting his head, and deepening the kiss in a way that sent a shiver down Lionel’s spine.
Mads tasted like something familiar and steady, something Lionel hadn’t realized he was craving until now.
His lips were so careful, moving with slow, deliberate patience that made Lionel’s stomach tighten.
He kissed like he wasn’t in a rush, like they weren’t in a building surrounded by monsters, like he wanted to take his time mapping out every breath between them.
Lionel let himself sink into it, let himself forget the trembling in his limbs and the weight of panic that had wrapped around his ribs.
It was faded now, replaced by warmth created by Mads’ cold hands sliding from his face to the back of his head, fingertips threading into his dark hair.
The touch was gentle but sure and sent a slow burn down to Lionel’s toes.
He let out another quiet sound, almost a sigh, and Mads exhaled against his mouth in response, lips parting just slightly—teasing, waiting.
Lionel hesitated for a heartbeat before tilting his head and kissing him deeper, pressing in like he needed this, needed the closeness, needed the way Mads felt against his hands; solid and real.
Everything else around them faded. There was only the slow drag of lips, the warmth of breath exchanged, the way Mads’ fingers traced the line of Lionel’s jaw before sliding down, pressing lightly at his waist like he was anchoring him in place.
Lionel shivered from the way every touch sent something sparking under his skin.
Mads let out a quiet noise of his own, something pleased, something wanting, and Lionel swore he felt that sound more than he heard it.
He pulled Mads in even closer, their bodies brushing, heat pooling between them; their lips parted only to come back together again, slow and unhurried, but it somehow felt deeper than any other kiss Lionel had experienced.
It wasn’t just a kiss anymore—it was something else, something grounding and consuming all at once. Mads’ breath hitched as Lionel shifted, pressing in, testing the way it felt to chase the chill of his mouth, to kiss him slow and deep, to feel Mads respond with just as much certainty.
Then Mads’ hand was tightening on Lionel’s waist, a soft squeeze, like he could feel Lionel slipping too far into it, like he wanted him to stay but not lose himself completely.
That was the only thing that made Lionel finally slow, finally let the kiss break, his forehead resting against Mads’ as they caught their breath together.
“You’re okay,” Mads murmured, voice low. “I’ve got you.”
Lionel closed his eyes for a moment, letting those words settle over him. Then he nodded, barely more than a movement against Mads’ skin.
“Yeah,” he whispered, “you do.”
He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, breaths mingling as they pressed together, but eventually Lionel slowly emerged from the fog that had encapsulated the two of them in it.
He raised his head enough to look around groggily, feeling almost like he was waking up from a long dream.
The hallway was empty; he was shocked that nothing bothered them, especially after hearing the gunshot from before.
Lionel looked down and blinked, taking in the position he and Mads had somehow ended up in. Mads was flat on his back, and Lionel was half lying on top of him. He vaguely remembered Mads tipping backwards when Lionel had been the one to push forward at some point.
He tried to sit up, but an arm around his waist was tugging him back a second later. Lionel looked up at Mads, whose eyes were shut, his face buried in Lionel’s hair. “Don’t go yet,” he whispered, so quietly Lionel wasn’t sure if he actually heard him.
“We should go somewhere safer,” Lionel murmured back.
Mads’ embrace around him tightened as he shook his head. “Just a little longer.” His lips pulled up in a smile Lionel could only describe as playful. “You have no idea how long I had wanted to do that.”
“What?” Lionel blinked up at him. “Kiss me?”
“Mhm,” Mads hummed. “Ever since I first saw you.”
Lionel felt a flush grow up to his cheeks and ears. “You can’t even see that well,” Lionel muttered. “If you could, you wouldn’t like me.”
Mads just laughed and pressed his lips to Lionel’s forehead. “I definitely think I would.”