It wasn't the headiness of some moments he'd had in this place, something that happened fast and filthy because how else was it supposed to happen. There was a visceral quality to it, a clinging to life and comfort. Frank was used to that, the solace-seeking.

Frank pressed Jim back, following after him, not giving up the kiss. While Jim cupped the back of his neck, he spread his hand across his ribs, feeling the strong, wiry shape of him with every shift and breath.