Felix POV

Felix found himself being slammed onto Marks bed. This wasn't how things were meant to go, he never expected that he'd end up such a compromising position. He had come out here to play some games on camera together, stop the hate Mark was getting from the Bro Army. Raise some money for charity during a livestream if they felt like it! He never would have expected something like this to happen, he hadn't even thought about it. He couldn't let the black haired man take him like this, he had to get out from under him.

"Marks bed has silk sheets… Black, like his hair..." He caught himself thinking. Why was he thinking about that NOW? Mark nearly had his belt undone, and for some reason Felix couldn't move his body. Well, he could, but not in the way he wanted. His hands, instead of pushing the Americans away, were gripping the sheets by his head. The sounds coming out of his mouth were not "No", they were quiet and soft moans.

Mark looked so… so heavenly. He seemed to be radiating light, like an angel. Or a demon, whatever you prefered. The Unholy Demons lips pressed against his, a mix of demanding lust and sweet passion. "His lips are much softer than I expected…" he thought, his mind hazy. Marks fingers found their way into his sandy blonde hair, tugging lightly, making him whimper and whine.

"Look at you, whimpering… Beg for it" Mark breathed into his ear, making Felix shudder.


"You heard me. Beg."

"I… M-Mark… Please…"

"Good enough" He smirked, and bit softly on his neck.

The Sweds pants were off now, and Mark slipped off own shirt. He always seemed to be wearing red, didn't he? Felix looked up at Mark with hazy eyes, lost in confusion and ecstasy, as Mark slipped off his pants and box-

His alar jolted him awake, sending Felix into panicked spasms before he managed to hit the alarm clock. He was covered in sweat, breathing heavily, and sticky from the waist down. "Jävla helvete…" He muttered, trying to catch his breath. A dream, nothing more. A damn dream. After a moment, he threw the blankets off, and made his way into the hotel bathroom. Yeah, it was true he'd flown out to The States for a bit of next-to-each-other co-op. Go out for a drink afterwards. He'd be here for about a week and a half, Mark was supposed to show him around and take him places.

Maybe they'd get lucky, score a chick or two. Marzia was stupid as hell if she thought he wasn't getting some on the side when he traveled. Don't get him wrong, he loved her and all. It's just, in Sweden, cheating isn't that big of a deal as it is in the States. Maybe they'd get blackout drunk and wake up next to really hot twins, and have to guess at what happened last night. He'd done that with Cry once, but it was just sisters. Not twins. "Mark probably knows a place. That guy probably gets laid all the time, hes got the body for it. I'm just some scrawny guy, he's muscular as- God, that sounds so gay" he laughed to himself.

He checked his appearance in the mirror, fussing with his hair. He wasn't bad looking, he concluded. Not at all. He actually looked pretty dashing today, his eyes seemed to be glistening more than normal. He wasn't as tense as usual, too. Probably on account of the tension relieving morning he had experienced. He glanced over at the clock. It was nearly 11, he could leave soon. Would Mark even be awake? Doubtful. That moron didn't wake up until far later, like 2. Oh well, he decided, I'll just go wake him up.

He slipped a light jacket on, and walked out into the streets, climbing into his rental car and driving off.