Alfred’s lips parted, but no words came. He should stop this. He should shove Ethan back. But instead, he stayed frozen, breathing hard.

That was enough of an answer. Ethan’s hand came up, cupping Alfred’s jaw, thumb brushing across his lower lip. Alfred sucked in a sharp breath.

“Fuck,” Ethan whispered. “I knew it.”

Then Ethan kissed him.

It wasn’t soft, not hesitant—it was rough, hungry, weeks of tension breaking all at once. Alfred gasped, and Ethan took the chance to ...