The honeymoon had to end eventually. Two red-blooded men didn't generally get consumed by romance and tenderness for very long. For some men, it would be fleeting, mere hours spent with their head in the clouds, giddy with their love for another human being, some would manage a day or so before reality and routine wore down the dream, brought life back into the consciousness, the tenderness and affection making way to bouts of pure animal passion or regular, common-or-garden intimacy.
Circumstance had altered John and Luka, stretched out their honeymoon period, made the romance magnify, the giddiness was becoming stifling. Something had to give, and with two men as stubborn, as hot headed as Carter and Kovac, it wasn't going to take long. It could have been over the war in Iraq, over what to have for dinner, over a patient. However, such was the insular nature of the current status quo; the captivity their new life was being bred in, the thing that finally instigated the storm was the relationship itself.
The idea that their love could be contained, that they could stop it beaming out of them and onto the general public of County General was becoming increasingly ludicrous or at least, it was to John. The notoriously lady killing Luka Kovac, however, had other ideas. Ideas he spoke with increasing volume, ideas such as "professional suicide" and "ruined reputations".
The camel's back had broken during dinner that evening, dinner that was lucky to escape going cold on the walls instead of the plates, dinner that was abandoned for angry pacing around the apartment, knives and forks cast asunder to allow their holder's hands to gesture wildly. Their casual tender touches over the table had long since been exchanged for shakes of the shoulder, with pushes away when finally the voices began to lower again, more in resignation than resolution.
John was reaching the point of no return, the point of frustration where the only ways left to go involved broken objects or floods of tears as it became clear that on this, both were too stubborn to come up with a viable compromise. His feet seemed heavy on the wooden floor as he followed Luka to the other end of the room, his voice raising an octave on the journey.
"You want someone else to tell them? So the outing is of our betrayal not just our relationship? You want people to hate us instead, fine!" Luka's retort fell on deaf ears, his stubbornness finally obliterating any trace of his rationality. Even when Luka's stern looks and mumbled Croatian curses began to spark desire, he wasn't willing to back down, especially as he started backing his lover towards the wall.
What I don't understanda," John said, his voice lowering as he honed in on his prey "Is why you want to deny how good it feels when I do thisa?" He closed in, pressing his lips firmly against Luka's, forcing his tongue through his pursed lips, breaking down Luka's barriers with brute force.
As he took possession of Luka's mouth he surreptitiously worked loose the belt around his waist, waiting until he felt Luka's tongue tangle willingly with his own before breaking away. "You could stand up in front of people who we spend more time with than our own families and pretend you don't know what it feels like to have me inside of you, pretend it doesn't make you moan like the rest of the world doesn't exista." John barely let the words fall from his lips before he dragged Luka's pants over his hips with a sharp tug, turning him roughly around and pushing him against the wall, pushing his finger into Luka before he'd even thought to protest.
What followed became a watershed moment in their relationship, their shouts turning to cries as their bodies compromised before their minds, the final throes of their argument taking place in breathless whispers of "Just a few people, those we know we can trusta," barely repressed moans encroaching on "we can play it by ear." before giving way to the throes of their passion for one another as John's hips piston in and out of Luka, cementing their pact, sealing it with teeth marks on the shoulders he'd so recently shaken.
By the time Luka had completely surrendered, his palms clasping the wall with whitened knuckles as John tugged on his cock; the honeymoon was all but forgotten, replaced with something richer, darker and even more intimate, that last boundary, last fear crumbling with every thrust. The volatility that had always been present between them was no longer stalking them like an ever present predator, and as they both cried out in climactic ecstasy they both saw that though it's claws were sharp they had more than enough strength to fight back when it pounced.
At a stupid hour of this morning the muse hit me. By 5am I had this. But don't let that put you off! It's set in a universe that has been roleplayed by myself and feebomon in which after John finds Luka in "The Lost" they become incredibly gooey and adorable. Luka is still recovering from his Malaria so they're in a bubble of doting and cuddles... until now... (cut text from Missle by I am X).