In all truth, this wrote itself. It was supposed to be all Warren and Layla and sexytimes and Will entered into the story, unexpectedly. All in all, I was surprised. I have read and re-read this and ah, if there are any mistakes, let me know. I apologise beforehand.

"Don't hide away, Layla. Keep your eyes on me." he whispered, lightly touching the fragile skin beneath her eyes, brushing aside the sticky strands of hair from her face. He touched her throat. "I want to hear you."

She canted her hips, curving her back as he entered her fully. Her breath erred, watching him. Warren asserted his strength upon her waist, his hold obsessive. Taming his restless mouth at her breasts, laving at the rosebuds, biting. She was malleable, unrestrained in his hands. The burning of her flesh covered her with a heavy layer of sweat, as if she were yielding to the sun, becoming vapour.

Translating his worship of her to the day spent in bed. His fingers reading her like braille, blindly mapping the light of her, the sounds of her, the colour of her... every inch of her, becoming his. His eyes connecting each freckle, each mole, as he unfolded the constellation of her. The love bites like solar flares marking her pale flesh. She tried to lay still for him, trembling like the ocean, her breath trying to still those waters but he was disobedient to her mouth. Ultimately resuscitating her from the countless, drowning kisses, even as she kept pulling him back under, again and again.

Layla turned her head and bit into her wrist, moaning deep within her throat. The thread of a tear cold against her skin as it fell.

"Even in your sleep, your skin runs."

Layla burrowed her face into his chest, hugging him impossibly closer. "Did you watch me sleep?"

"Always." he promised, closing his eyes, his fingernails languidly making circles into her sticky skin. "Do you need water? Are you ok?"

She complained, burrowing deeper into him. "I need you to survive, Warren." and she pulled back abruptly, looking at him squarely in the face. "Insolation."

"Hmm." he kissed her nose. "Let me go get it... just in case."

She pulled him back down, kissing him all over the face. "Then kiss me. Keep kissing me."

Until he couldn't feel his lips and she was nudging hers against his. He rubbed at his jaw. "You're a bad girl."

She managed one more kiss before letting him go eventually, piling her hair atop her head as she sat up, stretching her legs.

"Are you hungry?" he asked once he got back. He sat down at the foot of the bed, handing her the glass. She shook her head, letting her hair go. She drank the water slowly, her foot nudging his leg. "Layla, I've been meaning to ask you..." He eyed the burn marks on the sole of her left foot and on her right ankle bone. He thumbed them gently. "What happened?"

She leaned to the side, leaving the glass upon the nightstand and hid her face in the sheets, shaking her head.

"Layla?"

She muffled her response and he held her foot hostage, under the warning that he would tickle her if she didn't face him. She sighed the smile into the sheets and uncovered herself, leaning back onto her elbows. "I burned a lot of things. To forget. For fun. But it was all an excuse. Becoming a bad habit. I thought... I could feel the essence of you once it started. And I would consciously get nearer." she said quietly and looked elsewhere, biting her lip. "It's stupid. I was stupid." She sat up, apologising and left the bed. He watched her near the window, inhaling the night's repose. She sat at the sill, gathering all her hair in hand and raked her fingers through. She sat there for a short while, the night air cooling down her skin.

"There is one place... I did feel you close." her voice broke his enchantment, having lost himself in her that he had to focus suddenly. She summoned him and held out her left hand, palm upward. Warren looked at her as he took hold of it and her eyes trailed after his finger as he lightly traced the lines.

"Do you remember, cutie?"

He hesitated before looking at her. She gingerly removed her hand from his hold and slightly spread her legs, touching the wetness of her desire. "This where I felt you most. A different burn."

He took her hand again and sucked her fingertips. She shivered. "I have something to show you." he said quietly, leading her back to the bed.

He watched her intently, the flame swaying upon his palm flickering shadows off her face, her eyes dancing with its movement. He brought his other hand close, fingering the flame and he smiled as she giggled, leaning closer. "How? It refuses to be touched." she whispered, reaching hesitantly. He blew the flame upward, creating sparks. He dispelled another flame from his palm, furling his arm, mimicking the behaviour of her vines. "I promise you it will be different. I won't hurt you," he glanced at her nervously. "Layla, will you trust me?"

She bit into the tip of her finger, nodding slowly. "I trust you."

Layla sat back and parted her lips in shock as the flame shot at her foot, caressing it before it started curling her leg, traveling slowly upward. "Do you feel that?" he asked in concern when she gasped. She stared at it for another long moment as it stopped suddenly by her knee and quickly shook her head. She stiffened, hands splayed to either side of her as it curled her thigh. She looked up him, eyes wide. "How are you doing this?" The flame sembled a lariat, miniscule sparks bouncing off as it kept traveling slowly. "It doesn't burn." she said, wanting to touch it again but it gradually started to dissipate when it edged along her thigh.

"No, don't stop. I'm curious to know where it goes." she murmured.

The flame gained strength and it seem to flare when it reached her upper thighs. She held her breath. He wrinkled his nose at her when she glanced at him mischievously. It fluctuated over her stomach, swaying by her breasts until it became a spark against her lips. She blinked several times, her breath fast and raised her eyes.

"I believe there is no pain... yes?" he asked after a moment. She realised she was trembling as she sat back, touching her bottom lip. "Not here." He grinned, tucking his hair behind his ear. She reached out her hands to him, beckoning desperately for him to come near. He crawled over to her and she shifted slightly, lowering herself as he came over her. She touched his lips, his cheeks, his forehead. Her hands flitting over his arms and nudged him, welcoming his weight upon her.

"And the bookstore?"

"Discipline, Layla. I need it when I'm around you."

And kissed him, soft and unhurried.

"Stay." he whispered into her ear.

"Layla, you could have been back by now."

Layla clacked her teeth once, pretending to bite into his statement and stared at him longingly. "Maybe you can come with me." she implored.

"If I wait for you, you will hurry back."

She giggled. "And if I don't let you go?" she tightened her legs around his waist to prove her point. "I mean, this all sounds reasonable to me, Warren. You are still capable."

"You are driving me crazy, Layla. I'm going to drag you back to bed."

"You will always undress me. I will always be wet. I will always need you. Why do I have to go and get my clothes?" she asked, kissing him all over.

He grabbed her face. "The cat." he whispered against her lips.

Her eyes widened.

He kissed her, letting her down carefully and leaned his head back against the wall, staring down at her. She was taking her time letting him go, holding onto his shirt as she forced herself to edge closer to the door and crashed into him as she unlocked it, her embrace rather suffocating. "I will try to be quick." she kissed him one more time before leaving, grasping his hand tightly. She still clung to him, her scent making him dizzy and he rubbed his eyes. At its end, he rested his palm against the door, missing her and wondered if he should have followed.

"WARREN!"

Warren peeked through the peephole as he tapped the doorframe absently. The sparks at his fingertips like pinpricks.

"Anyone but her, Warren. WARREN! OPEN THE DOOR!" Will yelled, pounding away. Warren flinched, feeling the kick tremble the door, making a dent. He was deliriously shocked Will's foot didn't go right through. And despite how incensed Will sounded, there must have been such a level of control that merely unsettled him. He unlocked the door after a moment and Will came tumbling in, pointing his finger into his face when he straightened. "You just had to do it, didn't you? You had to do it just to get to me. Why?"

Warren sighed as he was pushed against the wall extremely hard. He turned his head, slamming the door with his foot. "Obviously you have been drinking." he dropped his eyes to the finger pushing into his chest. "And this level of restraint... I'm shocked, Stronghold. I didn't know you were capable of two things at once."

Will smiled. "This is exactly... EXACTLY what I'm seeking, Warren. More of an excuse..."

"An excuse for what exactly?" Warren slapped his hand away.

Will faltered for a second, seemingly confused and jammed his finger into Warren's chest again, a bit more forcefully this time.

"I'm going to ask you nicely..."

"You are my best friend, Warren. MY BEST FRIEND! And her? You run to Layla?"

Warren stared.

"I cannot believe you. I just can't. But then again, I shouldn't be surprised."

Warren pushed him away. "What is that supposed to mean?" he demanded, his fingers itching.

"You have always had it for her."

"And? AND? What's it to you?"

Will paced frantically, tugging at his hair. Warren clenched his hands. "You have a lot of nerve, Stronghold." he muttered. He was about to leave the hallway when Will came up behind him and pushed into him. It took a moment for Warren to realise what Will was trying to do when his hand covered his, holding it high up against the wall, his breath chaste, uneasy behind him. Will's other arm snaked around his waist, grabbing onto his shirt. Warren held his breath when Will leaned his forehead against his back, not really hearing the words Will was muffling into his shirt. Warren solely stared at the hand gripping his shirt, so close to ripping it and as he felt Will's lips moving against his back, lost in whatever he was confessing, Warren took the chance to shift his hand from Will's hold against the wall, covering it until he fisted their hands together. Without hesitation he used it as leverage to punch the wall, which did exactly what he wanted Will to do. Snap him out of it. Will jumped back, his eyes making a rapid little dance between his fist, Warren and the crumbling plaster dwindling from the hole in the wall. The shock stole him out of his spell and he almost lost his footing, which Warren took advantage of. He pushed hard and before Will had chance to object once he hit the floor, Warren rushed down to him, straddling him. He pulled him up by the shirt, bringing his face close. "What are you doing?" he growled.

Will's face took a myriad of expressions before he settled on a stupefied look, running trembling fingers through his hair. "I... I ..."

"Oh my god, Stronghold. WORDS! Use them!" Warren snarled, gripping harder in exasperation.

Will sputtered and Warren bared his teeth in anger, letting go until Will grabbed his forearms, shaking his head. "Look at me, Warren." he asked quietly.

Warren inhaled a tremulous breath, glaring at Will. They stared at each other for a time until Warren grunted eventually, clearly frustrated. "Is this a staring contest?"

Will blinked several times. "I don't want you with Layla." he finally said.

Warren scoffed. "That's not your decision to make." he whispered menacingly, bringing his face close to Will's. "Let me go."

"No."

Warren stared. "What did you just say?"

"I said no. I'm not."

"If you delude yourself into thinking I will make this easy, don't."

Despite the heat that was emanating from Warren's flesh, Will held on, his eyes wide and full of hurt. Warren stared him down, hoping he would stop before he lost control.

"Warren..."

"Stop."

Will let go, surrendering his hands and Warren rose to his full height but didn't walk away, simply stood over Will, eyeing him suspiciously. Will seemed a tad too serene for his liking and before Warren could say another word, Will became a blur as he tackled him across the room and Warren let out a gasp of shock as they fell against the bookcase. Covering his face as the rain of books came tumbling down, hearing the constant stream of wood splintering before the bookcase caved into a pile amid the books and dust. He flinched when he saw that the force had broken into the wall. He could feel Will's hand on his shirt, pulling as he clambered desperately to his feet. "Oh holy SHIT, Stronghold!" he yelled as he fell to his knees. "What the HELL has come over you?"

"Whatever you are thinking, Warren, this is not my idea of fun! I don't want you with her!"

Warren scrambled back, taking Will by the shirt again. "Leave Layla out of this." he hissed.

"That's exactly what I want, Warren."

Warren breathed hard, searching his face. He didn't expect Will to suddenly kiss him. The shock that overcame Warren blinded him to such an extent he didn't exactly push Will away, which probably gave the impression he wanted this as much as Will did. When the realisation sank in, which took longer than he would have liked, he broke the kiss. Will struggled against him, wanting more. Warren grunted as his fingers dispelled a glint of a flame and flicked it toward Will's shirt, deliberately setting fire to it. Will yelped and fell back, patting at the shirt in desperation.

"NO! No, no, this is my favourite shirt!" he wailed.

The flames stopped eating the shirt halfway and Will winced, close to a sob and let his head drop hard against the floor. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Warren closed his eyes, gesturing mindlessly toward the bathroom and tasted blood. He touched his lower lip, a stab of pain. "Ugh." he sucked on it, rubbing his face and breathed into his palms, peeking over his fingers at the sudden mess. "I swear I'm going to roast him." he grumbled. He took a book, trying to distract himself, from the tingling feeling in his lips, the kiss that seem to linger. He rubbed at the flesh and muttered a set of obscenities when there was more blood. "Fuck you, Stronghold!" he yelled as he stood and dropped the book on the counter, making his way into the kitchen. He grabbed the hand towel, dabbing at his lip. He became paralysed, realising he had sucked his lip. Did I just... kiss him back? Warren raised his eyes, hearing the bathroom door open. And gave his back once he heard the other walk in.

"My head hurts." Will mumbled.

Warren hid his smirk away, throwing the hand towel into the sink. "I can't hold you right now. I'm busy." Warren took hold of the coffee pot and held it high over his head to emphasise his point.

"Look I'm sorry, Warren... I know it doesn't fix anything..."

"It never does." Warren said, turning the tap. He rolled his eyes as he filled the pot, feeling Will's eyes like daggers into his back.

"I... I..."

Warren sighed so heavy and almost pulverized the pot with his bare hands, clenching his jaw. "Maybe we should just... hold out on conversation right now." he warned, staring at the running water. He turned his head and Will stumbled back, raising a hand. "No, no, you are right... We... should... yea... I... uh..." he dropped his eyes, his cheeks red.

"Can I come back later? To... um... replace..."

Warren dropped the pot and turned. Will squeaked and fumbled backwards, rushing out of the kitchen. Warren leaned back against the sink, hearing the door slam. His eyes oscillated wildly about the room, feeling lightheaded. "What the fuck just happened?"

The only response was the pounding of his heart, threatening to rip open his chest.

Will had come back sooner than expected and now Warren sat spiritless at the dinner table, twirling the spoon absentmindedly as he lost himself in the black of his coffee, trying hard to give definitions to words Will was not saying as the other paced in the dim of the kitchen. There were a few words that stuck but nothing that inspired Warren to leave his stupor.

"I don't expect anything..."

You are damn right about that, thought Warren but bit his tongue, untying his hair. He looked down at the ribbon in his hands and brought it close to his face, catching a hint of her then realised he shouldn't have done that. Was he provoking Will?

"I came here... to replace your bookcase," Will outlined the counter with a finger before he leaned his elbows upon the surface, burying his face into his hands. "Sheesh. Imagine if I had more than one glass!" he muffled.

Warren narrowed his eyes.

"I don't... I didn't want... this to happen."

Warren raised an eyebrow, wrapping his middle finger with the ribbon.

"I didn't expect for it to happen like that... but I couldn't hold back. In all honesty, I don't know what I expected." Will sighed. "I'm sorry that I had to show you my feelings in that state of mind."

Warren unravelled the ribbon.

"But now you know." Will said quietly. He brushed his hair from his face when he turned his head, looking at Warren. "I have the bookcase in the truck. If you... if..."

Warren scraped the chair back rather loudly as he downed his coffee and stood, not losing eye contact as he made his way before the other, leaving the cup in the sink and hid his amusement at how Will gripped the edge of the counter nervously, edging away, little by little. "And what happens to us?" he asked as he leaned back against the sink, folding his arms.

Will stopped and raised his eyes, casting a worried look and shrugged in all of his innocence. "I honestly don't know... I may have to suffer the consequence of my action... that... that you may not want to be friends... after the... after..."

"The kiss." Warren affirmed.

Will whined, touching his stomach and stared at the floor. "I'm sorry, Warren. For showing you ... but not for what I feel for you."

Warren felt his skin run, his face paling. He was shocked to hear Will admit it so freely, to admit it at all. Why now? he thought and looked away, eyeing the ribbon upon the dinner table. Why now?

"I will leave. I... don't want to drag this on any longer."

Will walked away and stopped at the entrance of the kitchen. "I will bring it in. I... uh... I... will leave it in the hallway for you." he glanced over his shoulder. "Thank you, though. For hearing me out. You didn't have to do that."

Something always gets broken, replaced, thought Warren, watching Will disappear round the corner.

Tell her, tell her, tell her...

It was a dull echo, his thoughts, clashing with his feelings. The fall of night kept whistling a fervid lullaby, the temperate sweet. His eyes mimed the shadows on the wall and could have stayed there for long, falling into a spell, wishing the day could have gone differently. He couldn't even begin to think, if things were to change... He leaned forward, his finger making circles on the wood surface, round and round until it blurred, faintly smelling the wood burn. When he finally heard the key in the lock turn and open, he stopped and held his breath. He heard his name and cleared his throat to lead her, touching his lower lip and grateful that the cut was already healing.

Layla entered the kitchen, leaving the key upon the counter. Her scent reached him first and he slightly drew his head back, inhaling deep. He reached out a hand and she took it steadfastly, kissing it. "Did the lights go out?" she held on, glancing at the candle on the counter.

Only in Will's head, he thought with annoyance.

He pushed the cup far away and scraped the chair back so she could come between him and the table. "What took you so long?" he asked out of faultless curiosity. "Did you leave the cat behind?" "I gave her to Zach. Magenta wanted her... but that... would have ended badly." She bit into the candy bracelet, offering him. "I didn't bring much." she said, watching as he touched each button of her shirt, fingers mimicking a spider as it traveled down the length of her and lifted her skirt. "You did." he said as a matter of fact. She smiled, pulling at the bracelet nervously. "I will burn them all." he said, raising his eyes to her, his hands teasing the hem of her shirt, fingers grazing the flesh of her stomach lightly. She straddled him, cupping his face with eager hands. "Is that so?" and kissed him. He shifted, his hands gripping her ass and she giggled.

"Don't you ever get soft?" she breathed against his lips.

"I'm happy you came back to me." he whispered, tugging her hair.

"Always."

A spark flared at her thigh. "Ow." she giggled. "I felt that one."

"Sorry."