He'd never kissed like this, slow and tentative, not even that first time. That had been quick and pressing and scared. Scared that he'd be caught, that he'd like it, that the other boy would never look at him again. He'd been right to fear all those things.
This was nothing like that. This was soft and purposeless, not for sex or out of boredom. Not for anything but it's own sake, like breathing. When he pulled away the other boy's eyes were still shut closed, like clinging to the edges of a dream that you might never have again, like fighting not to wake up.

He felt a heart-stopping sadness knowing he couldn't truly feel the way he felt right now. He cursed all that guilt and that miserable desire to be good. They were conspiring to make him imagine things, imagine he could feel something this tender and pure. He was incapable of things like that, he knew that, he was reminded of that every day by the slight edge of anxiety in everyone when he walked into a room.

He couldn't love this boy. He didn't know how. He had to step back now, walk away, let him find someone that did know. Someone who wouldn't take and break him, because as much as he enjoyed the victory in walking away and breaking hearts he couldn't do it to him.

"I should go," his voice was weak and uneven like the jagged edges of ripped fabric.

Dave's eyes snapped open, soft and sweet and already broken, "Don't."

Sebastian took a step back and the other boy closed his eyes again, bowing his head, "I don't...do this. You've been through a lot and I didn't make things better and I...can't make things better."

Dave stepped forward slowly, scared to scare him, too used to frighting others, "I know. But don't. Please."

Sebastian told himself he could do at least this much. He could stay. Just a while. Just until the blasts of sound and color stopped coming from inside the bar. Just until the sun rose and brought his sanity back.

For while they mostly breathed, sitting with their backs against the side of the little shed of a bar.

"I stole my first kiss."

Sebastian nodded. He wondered if he was supposed to say something to that, "I did too."

"Do you think it counts?"

He didn't answer, he just turned and kissed him again, soft and rhythmic like a ballad. When he pulled away, their foreheads pressed together, the cloudy sunrise colored them into a whole new sight. Sebastian leaned his head back against the wall motioned lazily between them and whispered, "I don't know how to do this."

Dave shrugged, "Neither do I."

Sebastian turned to look at him, "I'm going to hurt you."

The other boy smiled and shook his head, "You don't know that."

He licked his lips and sighed, "I don't know anything."

Leaning his head back up against the wall he closed his eyes. They stayed that way until the sun burned red against their eyelids.

Dave stood first, hovering over him, blocking the harshness of the morning sun, "Do you know what you want for breakfast?"

"Toast with grape jam and Irish coffee," he grinned, his eyes opening to look up at the other man.

Dave smiled at him, his hand outstretched to help him up, "Let's start there."