“God,” Daniel groaned, his tongue tasting Jack’s flushed skin, the pressure behind his heart building, tightening, like the juice of a red fruit, ripe to bursting. “Jack,” he said, legs wrapping around hips, pulling Jack closer, deeper.

“Daniel,” Jack panted, their foreheads touching, their breathing synchronizing, the flesh burgeoning, bursting.

Then nothing but the fall, the exquisite release of lung and heart and emotion, the space between them sticky and white.