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Mohinder's lips part instinctively when Zane kisses him. He lets Zane's tongue slide warmly against his own and he sighs at the vibrations that rumble through his lips and cheeks when Zane moans, deep and lusty, into his mouth. It takes Mohinder by surprise. Not the kiss itself, he has noticed the sidelong glances and noted the brief touches too casual to be anything but premeditated, but the hunger and the eagerness is not what he has been expecting. He had pictured a stammering confession of interest, an awkward blush and a clumsy, endearing brush of their lips that wouldn't deepen until Mohinder took control. Instead, two steps inside Mohinder's motel room, and Zane spins him around, kissing him deeply and soundly, and caressing him from his ass to the nape of his neck, over his back and across his shoulders. Zane presses himself insistently against Mohinder's front, one hand sinking into Mohinder's hair and grasping at the back of his neck to keep their panting mouths together. The other latches onto his hip. Zane grinds their groins together to let Mohinder feel the rigid outline of his erection and that's a surprise too. Against his hip, Zane feels hard and thick, and Mohinder wonders how on earth he could have failed to notice the tenting in the other man's jeans as they sat in the car or to understand the significance of the way Zane held his overnight bag in front of him as they entered the motel.
They breathlessly break apart. Zane is fondling his chest and pushing his coat from his shoulders, and even as he dips back and plants quick, sucking kisses to Mohinder's lips and jaw and neck, Mohinder doesn't say 'stop' or 'wait' or 'what the hell are you doing?' because Mohinder finds he rather likes being surprised. With one biting kiss to the hollow of Mohinder's neck, Zane drops to his knees. He drags his fingers down Mohinder's stomach, his nails catching on the fabric of his shirt and scratching further down, over his denim clad thighs. Zane pushes up the hem of his shirt with his nose and nips at his stomach above the band of his jeans while he palms Mohinder's crotch and works open his fly. He presses his face between Mohinder's legs and Mohinder cards his fingers through Zane's hair at the sudden burst of hot, damp breath against the straining cotton of his boxers. Mohinder decides he likes this unforeseen, aggressive side to Zane.
Zane traces the length of Mohinder's throbbing dick with his mouth. His lips suck at the sweat damp fabric that separates them. Mohinder's head falls back, a wordless groan escaping him as his mind races and leaps ahead of what is happening to fantasise about how much better this will feel when his boxers are pooled around his ankles and there is nothing to dull the softness or the wetness of Zane's mouth on his cock. Zane scrapes his teeth along the fly of Mohinder's underwear. The cotton moves in bunches against his hard flesh with a stuttering motion that has Mohinder digging his nails into Zane's shoulders and his toes curling inside his shoes. When Zane finds his tip, laps over it with the pointed tip of his tongue and inhales deeply, he can feel Zane moan desperately against him, hands on Mohinder's hips faltering as he is consumed by the heady mix of Mohinder's scent and flavour.
Mohinder yelps when Zane's fingernails catch on the side of his leg. His jeans are roughly yanked down and his body twists to the side, away from the sudden streak of pain on his thigh. He can see long red welts forming on his skin where Zane's lust has made him careless and hasty. Zane slides his mouth gracefully over Mohinder's cock, taking him deeply inside in one long, fluid motion without gagging or spluttering as he opens his throat to swallow around him. His tongue swishes from side to side as he bobs his head and Mohinder decides that the smooth glide of Zane's tongue is all the apology he needs for the now unimportant scratches that mar his leg. Zane moans and swallows, flicking his tongue as he grunts out his enjoyment around Mohinder's erection. As Mohinder watches, Zane's lips, already reddened and plumped from their kisses, slip slickly over every ridge and dip along the hard surface of his cock.
He pulls back until just the head is resting in his too hot, too wet mouth. Zane holds Mohinder's gaze and with slow, deliberate licks, laps over and swirls around his tip. He slides his tongue along Mohinder's slit, humming when Mohinder's pre-come begins to leak, bitter and sticky, to mix with the spit and sweat inside his mouth. Zane's eyes are heavily lidded with arousal, desire blowing his pupils wide and his pale skin tinged with the flush of lust. What surprises Mohinder most is Zane's enthusiasm. He sucks and slurps, making lewd noises that reverberate down Mohinder's cock and pull his chest tight until his nipples ache with the mounting heat beneath his skin. Zane takes his hand from Mohinder's hip and as he pulls Mohinder in again, letting him bump softly against the back of his throat, he pulls at the front of his jeans and tries to touch himself through the thick denim. The sight is too much for Mohinder and his eyes snap shut before it becomes his undoing.
Without Zane's grip to hold him steady, Mohinder sways backwards, taking a stumbling half step to right himself but hampered by his jeans, still bunched around his knees. Zane pulls off him with a slick pop, darting his hands up to stay Mohinder's fall and pull himself up. Mohinder presses at his shoulders instinctively, his dick already aching from the sudden and unwanted loss of heat and suction. Low in his throat, Mohinder whines in desperation but Zane simply smiles and ignores him. Mohinder starts to speak, to tell Zane not to deny them both when he so clearly enjoys pleasuring Mohinder but Zane kisses him, stilling the unformed words with his tongue and flooding Mohinder's mouth with his own salty taste. Mohinder clings helplessly to Zane's shirt, fisting his hands in the worn black fabric as he is overcome with the feel of Zane's hands firmly kneading his ass and the rough scratch of Zane's jeans against his erection. He finds Zane's nipples with his thumbs and brushes over them, pressing upwards until Zane groans in approval and helps to free him from the clothes that are preventing them from stumbling to the bed.
Mohinder has barely toed off his shoes, one ankle still twisted in the leg hole of his boxers when Zane is pressing at his hips and guiding him backwards. His knees catch on the edge of the bed and they collapse onto the mattress, falling hard in a bruising tangle of limbs and clashing teeth, but not once do they break their kiss. Zane pulls Mohinder up the bed and then, with one more deep kiss that sinks his head back into the pillows, he starts to wriggle down Mohinder's body. The scrape of denim and skin and cotton, the catch of the metal clasp of his buckle and the cool leather of his belt are an exquisite mix of pleasure and pain as they slide against Mohinder's taut flesh.
Almost as an afterthought, Mohinder gathers the hem of Zane's t-shirt in his fists and pulls upwards, making Zane grunt and squirm to free himself as the material is yanked over his head. Mohinder's cock is pressed to Zane's chest and the tip is rubbing through his chest hair. Mohinder hisses in delight at the coarseness of the hair against his skin and when Zane notices, he shifts his body from side to side and grinds down onto Mohinder. Mohinder cries out as he feels himself glide wetly over the hard point of Zane's nipple, biting his lip when hears Zane return the moan and shift his body up again to repeat the touch until the hardened flesh is sticky with Mohinder's pre-come. Zane slides further down and Mohinder's dick presses to Zane's jaw until he is forced to fist the sheets and grit his teeth at the prickle of Zane's stubble. Then, Zane's lips and tongue are there, soothing him with long, wet licks from his root to his tip.
Zane cups his balls, squeezing them gently until Mohinder bites his lip and spreads his legs wider, his thighs framing Zane's ribs as he ducks his head and sucks Mohinder down. Mohinder finds he can't look away, can't stop watching Zane as he bobs up and down along his length, pink tongue flicking out to tease his tip as he pulls off with a torturous slurp on every upstroke. He breathes hotly onto Mohinder's spit damp skin, winking at him as Mohinder swears and gooseflesh erupts in cascading waves on his torso. He shakes and shivers at the overwhelming sensations that Zane is pulling from him with every rough swipe of his tongue and when Zane wraps a sweat slick hand around his base, hollowing his cheeks and sucking on the tip, Mohinder can't help but reach down and stroke his face.
He runs the pad of his thumb along Zane's thick eyebrows and down the side of his face, smiling as Zane's eyes flutter shut with the gentle caress. The bob of his head slows and Mohinder can feel his cock through Zane's cheek. When he pushes his palm to Zane's stubble, Zane tilts his head to the side to let him feel himself more clearly. He stays like that for a moment, feeling the outline of the tip of his dick sliding across his palm. He reaches further down, stroking under Zane's chin and over the tight ring of his fingers, brushing his fingertips against his own burning hot skin where he can sneak into the gaps in Zane's grip. Mohinder's hand moves lower still and he fondles his balls while Zane still works his cock. He rolls them in his hand, tugging on them softly and making himself grunt until Zane pulls away, cracking his neck with a wry smile and watching Mohinder's fingers caress himself.
Before Zane can lean in again and take him between his lips once more, Mohinder's fist encloses around Zane's, dislodging his grip and pushing his hand away. He pulls at his dick. His skin is hot and tight in his hand, slick from Zane's mouth and his own wetness as he slides through his fingers with short, sharp thrusts. He closes his hand around the tip and brushes his fingertips along his slit until his welling pre-come is gathered wetly on his skin. Then, Mohinder holds his hand out to Zane and watches intently as Zane grabs his wrist to hold him steady. With a lascivious groan he sucks each finger clean, one by one. Zane's tongue is soft but firm as he laves every bitter smear from Mohinder's skin.
With a shuddery groan, Zane lets his jaw fall slack and Mohinder's fingers slide from his mouth, catching on his bottom lip, tugging and pulling until Zane leans in and kisses the tip of each of his fingers one final time. He turns his attention back to Mohinder's cock, glancing at Mohinder's face and soothingly rubbing the tensing muscles of his thighs as he drops a kiss to the tip of his dick too. This time, when Zane wraps his lips around him, he hums. Mohinder bucks up, his writhing constrained by Zane's clamping hands on his hips. He tries to grab Zane's shoulder and his neck, to pull him up before he cannot stop himself from coming, but Zane impatiently slaps his hands away and sucks harder, tongue lapping quicker and lips moving more insistently. Mohinder comes, body convulsing as Zane's mouth seems to grow impossibly hotter and wetter with every swallow around him.
Mohinder lies sprawled, spread eagled and thoroughly spent. The sweat on his skin is cooling and the shirt he never bothered to remove sticks to him uncomfortably under his arms and along his spine. Zane is still suckling on him softly, using his lips to move Mohinder's softening length in and out of his mouth. He looks up at Mohinder but again ignores the pull on his shoulders and continues his attentions. Mohinder's fingers are shaking as he undoes the buttons down his front and when he sits to peel off the sweat drenched layers, he finds himself blushing. Zane is only half-naked too, but somehow, clad in jeans with his lean, glistening torso on show, Zane's appearance is dishevelled in a way that makes even Mohinder's hypersensitive dick twitch with the thought of getting him messier. By contrast, Mohinder knows that bare legged, with his thighs spread, still wearing a button-down shirt and his socks, his own appearance is farcical rather than sexy.
Maybe Zane notices his sudden embarrassment because when he collapses bonelessly back into the sheets, Zane plants kisses down his thighs and over his knees, peeling off his socks and kissing each of his calves before crawling up Mohinder's body. When their lips meet in a lazy, sloppy kiss, Mohinder can taste his spunk on Zane's tongue. He reaches for Zane's fly but Zane pushes his hand away and rests his head on Mohinder's chest.
'Just relax for a moment. Get your breath back.' Zane murmurs the words into his skin, nuzzling into his neck and tucking his nose under Mohinder's chin. He presses light kisses where his lips can reach and slings his arms around Mohinder's middle in a loose embrace. Mohinder runs his fingers through Zane's hair, grateful for the chance to bask in his afterglow but confused at how the urgency has so inexplicably been sapped from Zane's movements. Then, Zane slides his thigh over Mohinder's and against his hip he can feel the damp denim that covers Zane's crotch.
He strokes Zane's face and under his fingers he can feel Zane blush. His skin is hot to the touch and against his shoulder, Zane muffles a whimper of embarrassment.
'Shh. It's ok,' Mohinder whispers. He strokes Zane's back and Zane holds him tighter, the flush fading from his skin as Mohinder's breathing evens out. 'Everything's ok.'
They hold each other and slowly drift to sleep.