Free Me (bxb)

Part 35

A couple hours later, Griffin is lying in bed with his music blasting through his earbuds and waiting for Chad to text him back about letting him stay at his place for the night. As cool as Griffin used to be with staying at home alone when his dad went out in Poughkeepsie, he feels uncomfortable with it now. He knows that realistically the killer has no idea who he is, what he looks like, or where he lives, but that doesn't change the fact that he doesn't want to be at home alone when it gets dark.

He's half asleep when he feels movement beside him and somebody reach across him to press a hand to the side of his face. He automatically jerks fully awake and presses his hand roughly against the person's chest to push them away. But when his eyes focus and the panic inside his body diminishes slightly, he sees just Keith above him with a humorless smirk on his face.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asks, already sounding out of breath.

"Oh?"

"Huh?"

"You're not gonna hit me again?" Keith asks him, his big brown eyes drifting down over his face until he's staring at Griffin's mouth. When he looks back up to Griffin's eyes, there's something almost like molten heat in Keith's own eyes and face. It makes Griffin want to kiss him.

So, when Keith starts leaning down closer to him, he's bringing both his hands up to settle on the sides of Keith's neck and guiding him down. When Keith kisses him, he kisses him with his whole body. He smooths his hands along Griffin's chest, stomach and sides, and he moves against Griffin with every brush of their lips.

They're only kissing for a few seconds when desire unfurls in Griffin's gut, and he guides Keith's body from off his knees on the floor, to onto his lap, right before flipping them over so he's hovering over him, lying between Keith's spread legs. Then, the desire ebbs away and makes room for the questions he's been asking himself for the past day.

"What the hell were you thinking, talking to me in front of everyone?" he asks after pulling away.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Keith breathes, propping himself up onto his left elbow. "The guy. He was barefoot."

Griffin can feel his eyebrows furrow and eyes squint in confusion as he tries to think of how the guy being barefoot had anything to do with the fact he was hunting them down. "What?"

"One of the guys on the murder board, he was barefoot. That means he's dead."

"Yeah," Griffin gasps, the hand that he still had on Keith's shoulder starting to caress the skin of the side of his neck and his shoulder blade through the fabric of his jacket and shirt. "O-o-one of the other guys must've just lived. I mean... p-passed out, right?"

"Yeah, but the guy who saw us- he's dead," Keith clarifies again, and Griffin feels giddy from the relief he feels.

"He's dead," Griffin quietly repeats to himself. He shouldn't feel as happy as he does about another person being dead, but he is and he doesn't have it in him to feel bad for feeling so delighted and thankful.

"We're safe," Keith says, voicing what it was exactly that made Griffin feel so happy.

"We're safe," Griffin repeats, because he can and it's almost like he has to say it aloud for him to believe it. He leans in closer to Keith, his hand trailing to the back of his neck until the tips of his fingers are tangled in soft, brown hair.

"Yeah, we're safe," Keith says all over again right before their lips are pressed together. They kiss for another minute or two before Griffin sits up to pull his shirt up over his head, and Keith reaches out to start working on the button of Griffin's jeans.