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It had to be fire. Searing-hot liquid fire racing through his veins. That was the only possible explanation for the burn Ash felt spreading through his body.

Their kiss—or kisses or whatever all of this was—continued and deepened, their lips dancing in tandem. Cass let out the softest whimper as he slanted his mouth against Ash’s, sending another jolt through him. It was all heat and this intense pulse of need, and it was new and heady and hot.

And it quickly pushed beyond any boundaries he thought he’d given himself, both in terms of the speed at which this relationship between them was growing and the level of intimacy he’d expected from the night.

Not that he was going to complain about either of those.

He groaned and lifted his hand up, pressing it into the middle of Cass’s chest. Cass’s heart thrummed underneath his palm, the rhythm uneven and rapid, mimicking his own. That knowledge certainly didn’t help his predicament any.

In fact, it almost made it worse, knowing Cass was likely feeling all the same things Ash was.

He pulled away, finally, only when he realized how much he needed to breathe, and he groaned again, dropping his forehead to Cass’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” Cass whispered, his breaths coming in short puffs. Lips grazed Ash’s temple. “Was that too much?”

“No. Yes. Maybe.” Ash shook his head. “I mean, no. No, it wasn’t, it—” Still breathing hard, Ash turned his head slightly, though he still leaned into Cass, and he brought his hand up from Cass’s chest to his cheek. He shook his head again and then stretched up to kiss Cass’s lips once more. Briefly this time. “Not too much,” he repeated before lowering his forehead back to Cass’s shoulder.

“Good.”

Cass’s arms tightened around Ash, and they stayed there like that for what had to be several minutes, catching their breaths. The embrace, too, felt just as incredible as their kisses had—reassuring in its softness and certainty. He smiled and buried his head deeper into the crook of Cass’s shoulder with a sigh that released all of his remaining tension.

“You’re the first person I’ve ever kissed,” Ash admitted quietly, though he was mostly sure Cass already knew.

Cass nodded into him, confirming his suspicions. “You’re the first person I’ve ever wanted to keep kissing,” Cass murmured. And again, Cass’s lips brushed against his temple with a featherlight touch that sent another rush of sweet, hot fire through Ash’s veins.

He shivered, which seemed contradictory—he was too warm if anything—and then he closed his eyes and cuddled up in Cass’s arms.

Another few minutes passed before Cass shifted slightly and cleared his throat. “It’s late,” he said, though Ash could clearly hear the reluctance in his voice.

Ash nodded into him again but didn’t move. He knew it was late. He knew they should get back. But for once, he wanted to be a little selfish for a little while. He wanted to stay right here, in this place that somehow felt so comfortable and safe. And for once, he wanted to pretend, for just a few more minutes, that he had no responsibilities, no devastating grief pulling him under at every opportunity, no suffocating weight sitting heavily on his shoulders.

He pressed his hand into Cass’s chest. “Five more minutes?” he said. “Then we can go.”

“Of course.” Cass’s hand smoothed gently down his back and settled above his waist. “Whatever you want.”

Ash smiled. “Thank you.”

Probably closer to ten minutes later, Ash finally sat up, the chill from the night air hitting him as soon as he was no longer curled against Cass. They kissed again, although it stayed brief and light, and then Cass insisted Ash get back into the cab while he cleaned up the pillows and blankets in the truck’s bed.

Ash didn’t argue, although he promised himself he’d thank Cass with another kiss later, and he climbed out of the bed carefully and got settled in the passenger seat while Cass started stuffing the suitcases.

They didn’t talk much on the drive back to Cass’s house, though Ash kept his fingers threaded through Cass’s the whole way. When they pulled up into the driveway not long after, Cass shut off the engine and then lifted Ash’s hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to Ash’s knuckles.

It seemed the perfect way to end the perfect evening.

The porch light cast a dim yellowish glow, but Ash could clearly see the color in Cass’s cheeks as he lowered Ash’s hand back down, his thumb caressing gently across Ash’s skin.

“I hope you had a good time,” Cass said almost shyly.

Ash smiled and squeezed Cass’s hand. “I did, yeah.”

“Good enough that we can, I dunno, do it again sometime?”

Thinking about the future was hard, and talking about it was even harder. He’d been working a lot all day long to stay in the present—not letting himself dwell on the past or worry about the future. But this question was an easy one, and even if his feelings and anxieties and guilt were all a lot and all threatening to pull him back down into that bad place he’d been in only a little more than a week ago, he was in a good enough place right now that he could promise Cass a next time.

And so, he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, we can do that,” he said.

Cass’s eyes and smile lit up, bright and joyful, and he lifted Ash’s hand again, kissed Ash’s knuckles, and said, “Perfect. Thank you.”