It destroys Henry.
The small shift of Riley's lips against his own unravels him in ways he cannot control.
His pulse hammers, his body trembling with urgency he cannot disguise anymore. His hands, already cupping Riley's face, tighten, dragging him deeper into the kiss.
He presses harder, unwilling to let the moment falter, desperate to consume every inch of it before reason can tear it away.
Their mouths move with a clash that is frantic, bruising, starved. Henry takes in every unsteady brush of Riley's lips, needing more, needing all.
He pins Riley against the wall more, body to body, chest crushed against chest, feeling the way Riley trembles beneath the force of his touch.
Blindly, he pulls Riley from the wall, never breaking their mouths apart. He moves him backward through the room with steps that falter but do not stop, lips moving, tongues tangling, breath stolen in fragments.
