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into Cam, and swallows the sharp inhalation of Cam’s breath just before his mouth crashes against Wren’s.

Chapter Three
    Wren’s mouth is invitation. It’s an inevitability Cam wasn’t expect­ing but feels . Some part of him, deep in his core, recognizes that he has no idea how to do this. But his body moves instinctually, and no part of him second-guesses Wren’s lips. Wren’s tongue slips past his; his mouth pushes against Cam’s and then draws back, as if he’s expecting something, and Cam is defenseless. He has no idea what he’s doing, he’s never done this, but kissing Wren is intuitive. The slide of his tongue along Wren’s, pulling his mouth back and nibbling at those lips before dipping back in, just happens. A primal need unlocks, their mouths are open and blazing and Cam is suddenly ravenous; a shocking chasm of desire is cracking open inside his body. The pleasure he feels at the touch of Wren’s lips against his cascades through him until he aches. Pushing Wren roughly against the wall, he strains for more.
    Wren’s arms are around his shoulders and he’s making delicious sounds of pleasure and encouragement against Cam’s mouth. Cam pulls away, sucking in shaking breaths. He startles at the touch of those lips against his neck, kisses that feel like fire. He tips his head back, and one hand comes up to thread through Wren’s messy hair and keep him close. Wren nips and sucks and holds Cam close as he trembles. He feels as if he’s about to shake out of his skin.
    It’s with that hand in Wren’s hair that Cam pulls him back to lean down for another kiss, his tongue stroking into Wren’s mouth. Everything is silk and wet and heat and Cam is hard—unex­pectedly hard. Pressing against Wren’s stomach, his body seeks something more.
    “Yes,” Wren pulls back to whisper. Cam looks into his eyes then and feels his knees buckle from a rush of intense pleasure.
    “What—” he swallows, closes his eyes and can’t help crowding closer. There’s no other word for his body demands; he grinds against Wren even as his mind wakes. “I don’t under— oh —”
    He stops when he feels Wren’s erection against his leg. With his eyelids sultry at half-mast, Wren bites his lip. When he closes his eyes and arches his hips into Cam, something… leaves. The inten­sity of pleasure that has overwhelmed Cam abates long enough for his complete confusion to surface.
    “Oh shit ,” Wren swears, then pushes him away, so suddenly Cam stumbles back. “ Oh shit, you don’t—”
    “Wait what?” Cam reaches for him and Wren just shakes his head and sidesteps him.
    “You don’t know, oh my god I thought you knew ,” Wren says, closing his eyes and taking a stuttering breath. With that, the frantic wanting slowly wanes from Cam’s body.
    “What… I—”He can barely formulate words. “What was that?”
    “I thought you knew ,” Wren accuses. “Have you ever—have you ever even been with someone?”
    Cam feels a flush stain his cheeks. “That’s—I, I mean—”
    Wren pulls away. His cheeks are hectic; his eyes are wide. “I don’t play with new. I’m sorry. I can’t, it’s a rule.”
    “A rule? What—” Wren turns away. “Wait,” Cam says, to no avail. He watches, tingling and dizzy, as Wren walks away, light-footed and fast. So fast . It’s all happened so fast, he feels as if he’s been picked up by a tornado, turned around and utterly flattened, confused and unsure. The long room bracketed by bookshelves is empty, but the echo of Wren lingers in a wake of sibilant energy streaming through and past Cam.
    Cam lies awake in bed for hours that night, puzzled and turned on. It never occurred to him that he might be attracted to men, too. What’s more confusing, he parses in the dark, is how… not-weird the idea is. Or seems. It’s not threatening, even if he’s never felt it before.
    Then again, maybe he has. Cam thinks of his friend Adam in high school. They’d run track