The drunken haze he was trapped in defied all logic. There was no stopping his body from reacting to Furon's. There was no stopping the desire that swelled within him. With Furon's lips against his mouth, all thoughts just fled out of his mind. He gasped against it, arms gripping Furon's, trembling. Sampson was still in shock, still cold, still hurt...still drunk. But Furon was so warm, so welcoming. His tongue darted out, flicking to taste him. He groaned. God he tasted as good as he smelled. Sampson was overwhelmed with the sudden urge to lick every inch of his skin. Yet his body at least listening some. He was too weak to do much more than lie there. Despite all the warnings in his mind, despite everything, he wanted the other. And that was stronger than anything else he felt.<br/><br/>Sampson shook his head. No, he didn't object. He looked at the deep, dark pools, but it seemed he didn't even have an opportunity to react as Furon's hands dipped towards his waistline. Sam tipped his neck back, shivering at the soft sensation of Furon's mouth on his neck. He whimpered, hands still grasping at the other. He cursed softly at the seductive way the other spoke to him. It was a helpless attraction. There was no fighting it, not in the state he was in. Sam was liable to regret everything later, far later. Right now all he could think about was more. The kisses muddled his mind further, making him more complacent. "Then taste me," he whispered. He leaned up to kiss along Furon's collarbone. A leg twined with the others, shifting just slightly which aggravated his sprained ribs.<br/><br/>Breathing hurt. Everything hurt, but everything also felt good. Amazing. It was a vicious mix in his mind. The questions of 'should he really be doing this?' and 'was this a good idea?' crossed his mind, but with every touch and caress from the wildly intoxicating man above him, they fled on rapid heels of ecstasy. He was already aroused, and he rocked his hips up so that the other man could feel his erection. It was a relief that the other didn't care about his orientation, which was made rather obvious with the hunger in the other's eyes. Sampson mistook that hunger for desire, not the fact that Furon wasn't remotely human.<br/><br/>Sampson wanted more, still cold from the shock. It was so cold, freezing even. He wanted to get under his blankets, and he couldn't stop trembling. So he clung to him, pulling him closer. "Should...should we move?" he whispered, his breath hoarse and stuttering. "I'm cold." Though he wondered if he could just be patient and wait for that heat to rise. That heat like a fire surrounding him. God he hadn't had sex in so very, very long. Part of him wondered if he'd orgasm like a high schooler in his pants, though Furon hadn't quite gotten that far into things. And Sampson truly didn't know what he was getting himself into, thanks to the drunken state and injuries. As long as the other was gentle and didn't harm him more than he was already he could see things progressing quite deliciously.