A debate. Obviously. Both halves of the uncompromisingly stubborn duo were slaves to debate, and what was a debate without a desire to win? This desire had, so eloquently, translated itself into what they found themselves tangled amidst in this moment. A kiss practically ripping at the seams with passion -- not for each other, as such (but, then again, in moments like this, can you really tell?) -- with maybe even some rogue fury mixed in. God, it felt good. It felt like all of the statistics and logical refusals that usually came pouring out of Gabriel's mouth were emptying themselves into him, filling his chest with geometric patterns he couldn't redraw if he had a ream of tracing paper and an infinite amount of pencil lead. There, in the (now) empty classroom, leaning a hand against the desk behind him, Riley was just a little bit confused. Kissing Gabe wasn't like kissing Cole at all -- Cole was... soft, snarky but submissive. Gabriel, however, was entirely different. It seemed like the need to control had wrapped the two up and pushed them together. Stalemates were a bore, and, obviously, this was the only way to settle an argument that, otherwise, would've hung in the stagnant air of the classroom like an acrid taste in the back of both of their throats.
It was hot. That was undeniable. Riley let his mouth spill over him like an ocean filled with salty rocks and soft waves -- he wanted Gabriel to drown in this, in them. If you'd have asked him about heaven right then there would have been a substantial chance that he'd have said Gabriel's name -- lust was a terrible thing. Terrible, terrible and truly terrifying. As the other boy's hands made love to his shoulder blades under the thin canopy of his shirt his own fingers trailed down the gentle bend of his spine, lips moving down to the soft skin of his neck.
Bites and hickies and caught breaths and words that never escaped the larynges of the two were all that remained as they both pulled away. Breathing was heavy and fuck what was going on? Riley's rapid descent back to reality felt strange -- had that just really happened, or was it just some strange fantasy that'd gotten a little too vivid? Either way, it'd been an enjoyable experience. Looking down into Gabe's hazel-y brown eyes he smirked, running his fingers through the other's hair for what he guessed would be the last time. He smirked. That smirk. The one he always, always wore when he felt smug as fuck. Which was, admittedly, quite a lot of the time.
