Something in Dustin's chest twisted, hot and sharp, and he needed it out, needed it gone or converted into something his body knew what to do with because if he stood here one more second with Greg looking at him like that and his mother's voice still ringing in his ears, something was going to crack open.
Something that he couldn't brush off with a joke.
He grabbed the front of Greg's shirt.
Greg's eyes went wide.
“Stop me,” Dustin said, “if you need me to stop.”
It was all the warning Greg got before Dustin was kissing him.
Dustin's shoulder lit up when he leaned forward, but he shoved the pain somewhere far away because Greg's lips were cool and slightly parted and right there, and Dustin wanted them more than he wanted to not be in pain.
For a second Greg just froze. Mouth open against Dustin's, hands hovering, brain stalled. Then something caught up and he kissed back—clumsy, too eager, their teeth knocking when he tilted the wrong way.
His hand came up and landed on Dustin's shoulder. The bad one.
Pain cracked white across Dustin's vision. He flinched, a sharp sound through his nose, and Greg yanked his hand back.
“Sorry—”
Dustin grabbed his wrist and put Greg's hand on the side of his neck instead. “There,” he said against Greg's mouth, and kissed him again beforeGreg could spiral.
Greg's fingers curled against his neck, uncertain, then tightened.
He wanted this, didn't he? Wanted this just as much as Dustin needed it.
He pushed forward, pushed Greg on the bed and then Dustin was half over him, knee on the mattress, the sling crushed between their chests. He could taste something faintly sweet on Greg's lips and he chased it, licking into Greg's mouth, and Greg made a sound that went straight through him. Low and overwhelmed and nothing like the careful reaper who quoted policy and clutched his clipboard.
Dustin shuddered.
He wanted more of that. He wanted to take this reaper and unravel him and put him back together as something else—something that would not remember all the reasons this was a bad idea.
He bit at Greg's lower lip, softer this time, deliberate, and Greg's whole body stuttered against his. His other hand found Dustin's hip and gripped almost hard enough to bruise.
Dustin made a low sound. He hadn't known Greg had it in him. “Points for enthusiasm,” he murmured against the reaper's lips.
CHAPTER 24
Greg's thoughts scattered.
Points for enthusiasm.
Greg couldn't argue with that. He was being very enthusiastic.
How could he not be?
He had Dustin's mouth on his and Dustin's hand on his neck and?—
Oh.
Oh.
Dustin's knee pressed between his legs and Greg made a sound he didn't know he was capable of making — something raw and startled that vibrated against Dustin's lips and made Dustinmoan.
That sound.
Greg's hips bucked before he could stop them, grinding up against Dustin's thigh, and the sensation that ripped through him was so foreign and so violently good that his brain stopped functioning.
