feel something

Keith's lips, James realized at some point, are so soft. And it's such a mistake that he's gone so long without knowing, because, God, if not for the need to breathe, James would be kissing Keith all day. But for now he's only allowed to kiss him until he has to pull away for air.

It's something James has grown addicted to throughout the time they've been meeting like this. He's kissed people before, but none compared to how Keith would kiss him. It quite literally left James breathless, and each one was more refreshing than the last. It baffled him, really, how someone could make it feel like time was slowing down even by just a simple touch.

Keith pulls away first, lips latching onto James' neck and sucking deep, purple bruises on the skin where it was particularly sensitive and made James feel like he was suddenly turned into jelly. He's flustered, with his nails gently digging into Keith's back and squeezing his legs around Keith's waist tighter, exhaling shaky breaths into the air as Keith rolled his hips forward.

"Keith," James sighs, voice strained and wavering. He's so dizzy, in a haze that he never wanted to get out of. It almost felt like a dream, as if this moment right now wasn't real and just something completely made up from his mind.

He absolutely hates how Keith was, probably, the only possible person that was able to make him feel this way; warm and tingly all over. James' chest ached every time they passed each other in the hallways, like it was heavy and Keith was the only one who could fix it. James found it quite pathetic, how it's like he needs to depend on Keith to make him feel something that others weren't able to: loved and desired. James couldn't help himself—he must've been too into his own head to think that there was some kind of underlying...something with the way Keith touched him or looked at him, even when he knew that Keith couldn't give less of a shit about him outside of this. He's so foolish for ever even considering that was a possibility.

But James wanted to read between the lines, that maybe Keith really meant all the kisses he gave, that he wasn't kissing James just to kiss him—because maybe it was something more than that. He didn't understand why he was so desperate to know if it couldn't be anything more than casual sex partners. It's not like he'd care. And it's not like it would ever get to that point, considering that it was Keith.

It just felt nice to have someone that could make your worries dissipate into the air and forget reality for even a second. To have someone to momentarily call yours before the morning that followed.

"James," Keith murmurs back, pressing a feather-light kiss to James' neck that lingered when he pulled away.

"Keith, I..." James starts, but he stops. He...what? What was he going to say? He didn't want to finish, because he knew it wasn't true and he wasn't a liar. He wasn't. James couldn't have loved Keith, and that was final. At the end of the day, Keith was merely a replacement for something he couldn't have, nothing more.

"You...what?" Keith asks, his movements slowing as he looked at James expectantly.

He stared up into Keith's blue-grey eyes and he sucked in a breath, shook his head, and muttered a "Nothing."

—

James keeps his eyes closed, head pressed against Keith's chest and listening to his steady heart beating. His arm is draped around Keith's middle, keeping him close, and Keith is rubbing his back in slow, soothing circles. The moment was oddly comforting, and James savors the moment for as long as he can—the warmth of Keith's skin melting into his own and lulling him to sleep.

James knows that in the morning, he'd wake up before Keith and he'll pick up his clothes off the floor, tugging them on with an awkward pang of guilt in his chest before leaving without saying a word, and then they'll treat each other like strangers once more, like how it always is.

—

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