It's 'cause I'm Irish, Ferran smiled at the comment. He closed his eyes to prevent himself from openly staring at Nikolai as he worked. The man was hypnotizing with a paintbrush. It was almost as if the image he painted danced in his eyes seconds ahead of the motions he created with his brush.
Then he stopped.
Feeling eyes on him, Ferran opened his and looked up at Nikolai, who was still holding his arm. There was another surge of desire through his body that made his heart pound. His lips parted as he tried to think of something to say, something to distract him, anything... Ferran carefully sat up, using his free arm and the opposite leg for balance. He was eye level with Nikolai. There was an irresistible smile on the other man's face. They were already in close quarters. Ferran couldn't stop looking at Niko's mouth and the lips he so wished to claim. He leaned forward. The movement wasn't conscious.
"I think it's raining," Ferran stated, turning to look over his shoulder out the window. His voice sounded sudden, strange, and foreign, but it was the jarring he needed to pull himself out of his trance. He cleared his throat because it sounded too husky to be normal.