This was a mistake. He should have kissed his forehead, his cheek, something that could have been easily misconstrued as something else, as something friends exchanged, as they had in the past.

But Caleb’s lips were soft and familiar and Essek was- was so-

afraid

of losing him. Of having him. Of ruining everything. Of not finding a way for them to return.

Slowly, he pulled back enough to break apart, resting his forehead against the other man’s with his damp eyelashes still closed. His lips were still warm, the sensation of kissing Caleb something that would haunt him for days to come.

“You should come out of the bath so that I can bandage you.” As if he hadn't just kissed him. As if he wasn't still right there.