Page 128 of All the way home

“Am I real?” Zach murmurs, because it’s honestly up for debate, at this point.

Kieran turns his hand, finds Zach’s fingers, and squeezes once. “You’re real.”

“That’s a relief, because most evidence was pointing to none of this being real, and—”

“Okay.” Kieran leans a fraction of an inch closer. “Okay, shut up. Stop talking.”

“That’s terribly rude,” Zach whispers, and his lips brush against Kieran’s when he says it, an electric shock that crackles down his spine. “Extraordinarily rude, actually.”

“In this scenario I feel like it’s probably called for,” Kieran murmurs, mouth moving against his.

Zach shivers.

And then he gives in.

It’s been a long time since Zach’s been kissed. Months and months since he was even close to it, but how long since he’s been kissed like this?

The answer hits in his wrist where his pulse thuds.

Never, never, never.

It’s excruciatingly slow. An impact event.

Two things in the world are important: Kieran’s mouth, and the spot on Zach’s hipbone where Kieran’s thumb is pressed. He’s not sure how it got there. He is sure he doesn’t care.

Kieran tastes like spearmint. Reaching up blindly until his hand finds the side of Kieran’s neck, Zach pulls him in.

At first, Kieran kisses him like it’s an experimental procedure.

Uncertain.

Slow, like it’s a test.

Zach isn’t sure if he’s capable of passing a test like this, not when he only has three points of contact—aware of every one of them like they’re burning: lips, his hand against Kieran’s pulse, Kieran’s thumb—and is quite convinced he’s going to die if he doesn’t get more.

When he leans into it, Kieran pulls back just enough that Zach has to step toward him to keep up.

Then he freezes, because he’s not sure what sort of pull-back this is, and maybe Kieran’s—

His pulse thunders so loud, it’s all he can hear. A split second of panic flashes through him—he didn’t like it, it wasn’t good—and then Kieran laughs lightly, a huff of air against his mouth, dazed.

“What?” Zach asks, just so he can feel his lips ghost against Kieran’s.

“I was just thinking . . .” Kieran presses his thumb harder against his hipbone, but he doesn’t say what he’s thinking, because he’s kissing Zach again.

And they’re magnetic.

Zach slides his fingers around the back of Kieran’s neck, incapable of escaping his gravitational pull.

“I was,” Kieran whispers, between kisses, “thinking . . .”

I don’t care, Zach thinks somewhat savagely as Kieran’s teeth graze his bottom lip and he makes a terribly undignified noise.

But it’s not even true, because he does care what Kieran’s thinking. Reluctantly, he pulls back an inch. “Thinking what?”

It’s the right move, because this time Kieran’s the one who steps forward to follow his mouth, and he walks right into Zach.

“I was thinking,” Kieran murmurs, slightly breathless. “I don’t remember how to anymore though.”