Laertes raises his head to catch Lucien in a swift, searing kiss, then sinks his teeth into the other side of Lucien's throat. He seals his lips around the bite and sucks hard, intent on leaving a mark--intent on having Lucien remember this tryst every time he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Laertes claws at his back over and over again, wounds crossing and recrossing--his nails are too blunt to break the skin, but they can raise thick red welts everywhere they they press.