Dash did. Thorne let him take the lead, a long, thorough exploration, warm, soft lips pressing against Thorne’s, Dash’s tongue sliding over his, tasting, licking the roof of his mouth. Thorne sucked at Dash’s lower lip. He loved how soft it was.

By the time Dash pulled back, his breathing was ragged, and he stared down at Thorne, wide-eyed, shock on his face.

“You feel that too?” A dangerous question, but Thorne was feeling dangerous, feeling like he was on the edge of something, and he wanted to jump.

For a moment Thorne was sure Dash did and he was going to admit it; then Dash schooled his expression. “Shut up and fuck me.”

Yeah, that was what he needed to do. No more foolish fantasies. “Bedroom.”

Dash scrambled up, slipped, and caught himself on the coffee table. He stumbled drunkenly toward the bed, and Thorne followed, pausing only to grab lube and a condom from Dash’s bag. Dash settled on his back on the bed, legs spread open for Thorne. Fucking him face-to-face was a bad idea. It was only going to make the ache in his chest worse if he watched Dash’s face as he moved inside him. But no way in hell was he going to give up the chance. This “relationship” could all come crashing down at any moment. If Dash realized what he was feeling, surely he’d run.

He squirted lube on his fingers, dropped the bottle on the bed, and sat on his knees between Dash’s legs. “So fucking hot,” he murmured as he toyed with Dash’s ass, running his finger around the edge of his entrance, giving him nothing more than a little pressure.

Dash moved his hips almost imperceptibly, obviously trying to stay still, to keep Thorne from seeing how desperate he was.

“You want this?” Thorne asked as he entered Dash with a finger, slowly working his way deeper.

Dash gasped and tilted his head back, eyes closed. “So fucking much.” God, he was beautiful, and this all seemed so unreal.

“Do you really want this, me fucking you?” He was hanging over the cliff now.

Dash opened his eyes and looked at Thorne. There was fear there and uncertainty. “Thorne?”

“I know I shouldn’t ask that. I know that’s not what this is.”

“I do. I want it.” Dash closed his eyes as if he couldn’t look at Thorne after his confession.

Thorne pulled his finger out and grabbed the condom, so worked up, physically and emotionally, he could barely roll it on. He slicked his cock and then he was there, pushing into Dash, moving slowly, giving Dash a chance to adjust, though he thought he would die if he didn’t bury himself immediately. He needed to be balls deep in Dash, to be as close to him as he could. What was his problem? Insanity? Stress sending him over the edge?