[Hurricane's lips part, as though he means to respond to that - but then Rye is kissing him, and honestly? Honestly, the kiss is more important than anything he could have thought to say]

[He presses into it like he needs it to breathe, all lips and teeth and tongue, and the hands still running over Rye's chest tremble, the flat of one thumb catching the edge of a nipple on their way up again]

[His legs tighten around Rye's back, lithe thighs trying to urge him in, draw him closer, beginning to shake as his hips work in needy little circles]