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He could taste the Jameson on Malcolm’s lips, and that was strange. And the scratch of facial hair, that was strange, too. But the strangest part was that Malcolm didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned right back into the kiss, moving his lips softly against John’s. When he reached his hand up to caress John’s face, John flinched at first but then relaxed, letting him run his fingers along his neck and down his back. Strong. So strong. John pulled back, breathless.

“You alright, cowboy?” Malcolm asked, a note of concern in his voice.

John nodded, licking his lips. A moment passed. “How about you?”

In response, Malcolm pulled John into his arms, kissing him deeply. John felt his body leap inside as Malcolm thrust his tongue into his mouth, sucking on his lower lip. Their breaths were hot together and Malcolm moved his hands through John’s hair, gripping it at the base of his neck and pulling his head back. John let his tongue move out, and felt Malcolm’s own tongue reach out to meet it, sliding softly and warmly against his lips. Thrills ran down John’s back and he felt himself growing fully rigid as his friend stroked the back of his head. Malcolm’s attentions moved down his jaw line to his neck, and John tilted his head back, gasping as the younger man pressed his mouth against the salty skin. Then he felt Malcolm’s hand slide over his thigh, and he froze.