Michael's emotions had been flying all over the place, out of control, from the moment he'd gotten the first text and through everything since--jealousy, confusion, hope, anger, terror, grief, relief, hopelessness, desire, love, frustration, exhaustion. He'd felt like a yo-yo most of the night, and the adrenaline still flickered along his nervous system.

But the touch of Alex's hand on his skin, the press of his body close, the fact that he was letting him--that he wanted him to--stay: these things were calming the chaos, like music used to, like being in Alex's arms still always did. He didn't even need the kisses, the seduction, for this to be good--not that he was going to say that, especially as Alex's tongue tangled with his and more of the confusion eased under a wave of pure want.

He moaned into the kiss, meeting that intent, encouraging it with his own. His hand slid higher to settle against the curve of Alex's ass and pull them tighter against one another so there could be no doubt about how much he wanted him.