Hal kisses him carefully, almost meticulously, a soft, careful trail that starts at his temple and curves down his cheek and jaw. He focuses on Tom, on the worn Henley under his fingertips and places his lips against his skin with a religious precision. His hands shake as he lays his first kiss on the underside of his chin, on his neck, and he can feel the blood flowing through him more vividly than ever, makes him more aware than ever of the beating of his heart, of how easy it would be. He hesitates for a fraction of a second along his neck before he places another gentle, careful kiss and tries to quell that base hunger.
Hal lines his kisses up like his dominos, in a gentle curve that ends at Tom's collarbone, and smiles just barely at the kiss placed on his own forehead as he lingers there.