He moans under the kiss, grabbing whatever he could: Jiang's shirt, his belt loop, hauling their bodies together because he's fucking dying and Jiang is his last meal. Proko adjusts their bodies until he's got Jiang between his thighs, until he can rut up against him like an animal.

Their mouths slide lewdly and there's an edge of possession in the kiss that makes heat sink through him, and he's finding he doesn't feel all that opposed. Suddenly he wants Jiang to mark him up.