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They shouldn't be doing this.

There's a mission to complete. They should be back with their respective sides, preparing to carry out orders. Victory is on the line now.

Both sides need all operatives working at their best, especially their key members who could tip the scales. Without them, either side could be derailed by the missing operative.

But as Right traps him against the wall, their bodies flush together, Henry finds it a little hard to care.

He puts up a fight, clawing and shoving at Right in a wholly ineffectual matter. He'd no freer than he was before, only now he's out of breath. That and his skin feels hot from the body pressed against his and the friction from struggling like he had.

The rough stimulation made Henry shaky at the knees. He hasn't been touched in so long that even the smallest bit of attention was affecting him intensely. His face is burning as a low groan tears itself from his throat.

Rough fingers position themselves under his chin and his head is forced up. He looks up into those deep, captivating eyes. Henry finds himself lost in them, his struggles ceasing.

Right tilts his head up with his hand and seals their lips together. It's not a tender kiss by any means, but that's just how they both want it. A breathless moan escapes as his mouth is dominated. His eyes fall closed, the sensations running through his body making him weak.

There's a low chuckle against his mouth. The vibrations mixed with the sound sends a spike of heat through him. One rough hand cups against his cheek and the other slips under his shirt.

He goes nearly limp against Right, his body now supported by him. He feels like he's on fire and his head is spinning from the sensations.

Right breaks off the kiss, letting them both breathe. Henry feels lightheaded, taking deep breaths to try and get even a sliver of control back.

He needs to get away, to get back to base. The others are waiting for him. He has duties to complete that don't involve being backed up against a wall and kissed senseless.

His brain melts even further as Right leans forward, pressing kisses to his neck. The light scrapes of teeth against his skin drive him crazy, and he clings to Right desperately. He can't control his own thoughts, much less his voice, and the noises that spill from his lips are indecent and shaky.

It's too much. All he can do is lean his head back against the wall and submit to Right's ministrations.

"You look good like this, needy and falling apart at my touch," Right mutters into his ear. Henry shivers, the words tingling along his spine in a synesthesial haze.

He answers with a heated whine. A quiet, sinful thing that betrays his failing will. His body cries out to submit, to let Right do as he pleases and make him feel good. The once-loud protests in his mind have been silenced by the dripping pleasure.

He's falling, coming apart in his arms. He should be fighting it.

But he doesn't. He lets go, lets himself feel with no restraint.

Henry leans his head to the side, giving Right better access to his neck. In the same motion he reaches up and threads his hands into his thick, red hair.

He feels Right grin against his neck and knows he's been heard. He's given up control completely, submitted to a person he shouldn't feel safe around but inexplicably does.

Right bites down on his neck, not hard enough to break the skin but hard enough to bruise, and sucks.

A squeal tears from his throat, his body going rigid as red hot lighting flashes through him. He flails, not in resistance but from helpless spasms. Right holds him through, lets him shake in his arms.

Henry calms at last, going limp against him. He feels wrung out, his body trembling from his release.

His mind is scrambled, nothing but static as he comes down from his climax.

He's panting and shaking. His body feels hot and trembly.

He lets out a groan, half pleasure drunk and half exhausted.

"Mine," Right mutters, almost growling.

Henry shifts his hands down, holding onto him with trembling arms.

"Yours," he murmurs in reply.