Payne can feel the tendrils of smoke leaking up from Silas' lungs as their mouths move together, lips getting slick from how deeply they’re kissing. Payne never wants it to stop, drops his knife to the floor and wrings his fingers into Silas' shirt, pulling them even more flush against one another. It's been a while since Payne's gotten his hair trimmed, so it's long enough for Silas to twist around his knuckles, easy for him to pull Payne's head back so that his neck is a straight line, one he takes his mouth to, licking and biting, lips catching and dragging deliciously against Payne's stubble.
"Maybe I should learn to shave just so that I can return the favor," Silas says, speaking into his skin.