Page 36 of Try Line Hearts
It tasted fine.
Dangerously fine.
Stories piled up. Laughter loosened things Byrne usually kept welded shut. Kaine drank less than everyone else. Byrne noticed.
Maeve’s texts came. Honesty slipped loose.
Maeve:You’re allowed to want something that isn’t pain.
The words burned.
Byrne locked his phone and turned to Kaine.
“Another drink?”
Kaine smiled. “Thought you’d never ask.”
Hours and pints later, the cold outside hit Byrne like a baptism.
He staggered. Kaine caught him.
“You’re drunk.”
“You’re observant.”
They made it back slowly, Byrne offering slurred commentary on streetlamps and injustice and the extortionate price of crisps, the words tumbling out of him without much direction. Inside the dorm, Kaine shut the door behind them and turned just in time to catch Byrne swaying.
“Sit,” he said.
Byrne dropped heavily onto the edge of his bed. Kaine crouched in front of him and reached for his boots.
“You don’t have to—”
“I know,” Kaine said, already working the laces. “Lift.”
Byrne obeyed. One boot slid off, then the other. Kaine stilled, and only then noticed the way Byrne was staring at him. Not glassy. Not unfocused. Just… looking, with an intensity that made Kaine still.
“What?” he asked.
“You,” Byrne said simply.
Kaine drew a slow breath. “Okay, we’re not having this conversation while you’re—”
Byrne grabbed the front of Kaine's shirt, yanking him forward with brutal force. Kaine stumbled, a sharp grunt escaping his lips as his balance shattered. Before he could steady himself, Byrne's mouth crashed into his—hard, demanding, all teeth and tongue, no room for gentleness.
It wasn't a kiss; it was a fucking invasion, Byrne's lips bruising Kaine's with raw hunger that ignited every nerve in Kaine's body. Kaine's mind reeled, promises to keep his shit together dissolving under the heat. He kissed back fiercely, shoving his tongue into Byrne's mouth, tasting the sharp tang of sweat and need.
They tumbled backward, Byrne on his back, Kaine sprawling half on top, their legs twisting together in a messy tangle. Byrne arched up, his strong hands clawing at Kaine's back, pulling him down until their hips ground together. Kaine's cock throbbed in his boxers, already leaking pre-cum against the fabric.
"Fuck," Kaine gasped against Byrne's lips, his voice ragged. Byrne didn't answer with words. His thigh jammed up between Kaine's legs, pressing right against his aching dick. Kaine's hips bucked involuntarily, grinding down hard, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through him.
Byrne's breath hitched, a low growl rumbling from his chest as he dragged Kaine closer, their mouths colliding again in a sloppy, desperate mess.
"Bad idea," Kaine muttered, even as his hands fisted in Byrne's dark hair, yanking his head back to bite at his jaw.
"Shut the fuck up and kiss me," Byrne snarled, his voice wrecked and low, nails digging into Kaine's sides. Kaine obeyed, slamming his mouth back onto Byrne's, tongues thrusting like they were fucking already. Byrne's hands shoved under Kaine's shirt, rough palms scraping over his bare skin, fingers bruising muscle as they raked down his spine.
Kaine groaned into the kiss, his body arching at the sting. Byrne's aggression fueled the fire in Kaine's gut, making his cock twitch and leak more. They rolled slightly, Byrne's weight shifting to pin Kaine better, but Kaine fought back just enough to stay on top. Byrne's hands turned savage, grabbing the hem of Kaine's shirt and ripping it upward.
