Take my heart

Chapter XXVI

Connor kisses him. And in a rush of recklessness and pure, unadulterated want, Caesar kisses back.

And, fuck. He's used to everything about Connor, to biting his arm and kicking his shin and licking his cheek and slapping his back but this, having Connor's lips against his, hot and firm and urgent, is a whole new universe. He tastes like sugar and champagne, and Caesar belatedly thinks, as he grabs the back of Connor's neck, 'we're not drunk, are we?'

Maybe Connor hears it. He angles his head and deepens the kiss, gripping the lapel of Caesar's suit. As an old rule of Adryan's mother, they don't get drunk in public, Caesar remembers, so this dizziness is just Connor. Just Connor being a damn good kisser, even if Caesar can hold his ground.

Usually confident and sure, but now Caesar can feel him trembling through the grip Connor has on his suit. When they pull apart for half a second, a shaky breath fans over his mouth, and it's all it takes for Caesar to kiss him again. The realization that he's bringing Connor's control apart sets his insides on fire.

Silent communication never comes more in handy than when their mouths are busy. Connor sucks Caesar's bottom lip between his teeth and he short-circuits. In the blink of an eye, Connor is standing between his legs, Caesar still perched on the hood of his car, and a lightning white realization strikes him that he wants this. All of this, Connor's weight against him, his arms around Caesar's neck, their chests pressed together, his hands on Connor's waist.

He slides a hand to Connor's back, at the same time Connor holds the back of his neck, and they both pull the other impossibly closer, silent prayer of 'more' and 'please' and 'yes'.

Connor's fingertips leave goosebumps on his skin when they graze the collar of his shirt, they catch on his tie and undo it in one quick, clumsy motion. Caesar's breath hitches; he's never been treated like this, with this underlying sense of desperation. It's always slow and steady movements, people trying to impress him, but Connor doesn't try, he just wants, and it's going to drive him insane.

The first buttons of his shirt pop open, shaky fingers brush his collarbones and pull a sigh from his mouth. Caesar touches Connor's elbow, his arm, his shoulder; traces the line of his jaw with a thumb and finds himself wishing this could last forever. His hazy mind manages to frame the moment—their mouths sliding together, their bodies so close the same heartbeat pulses through the both of them—and pockets it somewhere safe.

A loud dog bark makes them jump. Caesar's hold on Connor is the only thing stopping him from pulling back too far. They share a wide-eyed, startled glance, panting, and seeing each other really drives home the fact that this just happened. Caesar's mouth goes dry. Connor still has a hand on the side of his neck and the other on his shoulder, his pupils are blown wide, cheeks red, lips parted.

The dog barks again, probably from one of the neighbor houses. It effectively shakes them out of their daze this time, Caesar's hands fall slack to his side and Connor steps back, opening and closing his mouth without a sound. Before Caesar can say anything, his best friend utters a quiet 'fuck', wheels around and books it to his front door. The slam of the door on its frame makes him jump again.

What. The fuck.

Working on autopilot, Caesar gets back in his car and drives back home. He's taken the same path too many times to need to pay attention. His movements are robotic, his ears are ringing, and his brain remains offline.

Did they just. They fucking did. What the fuck.

Why did Connor kiss him and why did it feel so—and why the fuck does he want to do it again, goddammit, this is his childhood best friend they're talking about! Like, so what if he, what if they'd done this before, what if he's thought (not fantasized) about it for a while now, what if their friendship is already weird intimate to the rest of the world. None of that means nothing against the fact that they just kissed on the very hood of the very yellow car Caesar almost drives into a wall.