The manuscript slipped out of his hands. It hit the floor with a soft thud, unnoticed, uncared about.
He grabbed Adriel's face. Turned him around, and kissed him.
Adriel made a sound against his mouth.
A sigh. A moan. Something broken and beautiful that Landen felt everywhere; in his chest, in his gut, in the hard pulse of his cock. The sound went through him like a current, like a live wire, like everything he'd been holding back for months finally snapping free.
Adriel's hands came up and gripped his jacket.
And he kissed back.
He kissed back like he meant it, like he'd been waiting for this, like he'd been starving and Landen was the first taste of food. His lips parted, opened, let Landen in, and Landen went. Drank him down. Took everything he offered and demanded more.
He walked him back into the shelf.
Adriel's back hit the rows of bindings, a small sound escaping him as Landen pinned him there with his body. Chest to chest. Hips to hips. The hard line of him pressed into the soft heat of Adriel's stomach. He could feel everything; the warmth, the give, the way Adriel's breath came in short sharp gasps against his mouth.
His hands moved.
From Adriel's face into his hair, fingers curling into the soft strands, tugging just enough to tilt his head back. Then down to his jaw, holding him there, keeping him exactly where Landen wanted him. Then to his throat, palm pressing flat against the pulse hammering there, fast and wild and alive beneath his touch.
Adriel tipped his head back further. Gave him access. Surrendered.
Landen took it.
His mouth moved lower. To the curve of his neck, to the place where his shoulder began, to the skin his sweater had covered moments ago. He wanted to taste all of it. Every inch.
He wanted to worship him whole.
His hands slid down from Adriel's throat, over his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breathing. Lower. To his waist, his hips, gripping the softness there, fingers digging in because he needed to hold on, needed to feel the reality of this beneath his hands.
Adriel gasped. His hips jerked forward, searching for friction, for more, for anything Landen would give him.
Landen pressed back. Rolled his hips into him, let him feel exactly what he did to him, the hard length of him, the want that had been building since the moment they met. Adriel's head fell back against the shelf, his mouth falling open, a sound escaping that was almost a whimper.
Landen swallowed it.
Kissed him again, deeper this time, wetter, messier. His tongue slid into Adriel's mouth, found his tongue, tangled with it. Adriel tasted like coffee and something sweet, something that was just him, and Landen couldn't get enough. He licked into him, drank from him, took and took and took.
Adriel's hands were everywhere now. In his hair, on his neck, gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer. His body pressed up into Landen's, soft and yielding and desperate all at once. He was making sounds between kisses; small, helpless sounds, sounds that went straight to Landen's cock and made it ache.
Landen broke the kiss just long enough to look at him.
Adriel's lips were wet, swollen, parted. His cheeks were flushed dark, the pink spreading down his neck, disappearing beneath his sweater. His eyes were heavy-lidded, dark, focused entirely on Landen's mouth.
Landen kissed him again.
Harder this time. More urgent. His hands found the hem of Adriel's sweater, slid beneath it, found skin. Warm. Soft. So fucking soft. His palms smoothed up over his stomach, over his ribs, feeling the give of him, the realness of him. Adriel shuddered against him, made a sound that was almost a sob.
Landen's mouth left his lips, trailed down his jaw, down his throat, lower still. He mouthed at the skin above his collarbone, licked into the hollow there, felt Adriel's pulse racing beneath his tongue. His hands kept moving, exploring, learning the shape of him.
He wanted more. Wanted all of it. Wanted to strip this sweater off him, lay him out on the archive floor, take him apart piece by piece until there was nothing left but this, them, the way they fit together.
He put his mouth on Adriel's throat again.
On the pulse. On the warm skin stretched over it, soft and salt-tinged and perfect. He could feel it beating under his lips, fast and wild, a rhythm that matched the pounding in his own chest.
He licked there. Tasted him.
