Cain didn't go while Casper fucked about doing the last bits of essential shut down – lights and power and lock ups – but telling dickhead to leave would mean talking to him, and Casper didn't really think he had it in him a second time.

His hand never stopped burning.

But no matter how diligently he kept his eyes turned away, time came when he stood in the centre of the coffeeshop with the dusk shrouding his shoulders and the tables like hunkering ghosts in the dark, and there was nothing left to do but go out the goddamn door.

Cain spoke before Casper worked up the courage to look at him. The sound of his voice tore another chunk out of that hollow inside Casper's chest. Even if the warmth it put in him felt as if it filled every inch of him, it'd only feel darker and colder and emptier when he went.

"Casper..." Different again that one. Full of weariness and regret. "Look, I know you told me to piss off."

"Yeah, I did."

"Yes, well—" Cain huffed and there was another ruffle of fabric, and Casper didn't even mean to, but he found himself looking at him anyway. At the awkward way he canted his hip and his fingers dragging back through his hair. The tight worry across his features, and the way his lips pursed and his brow furrowed with it. Just like his smiles, the emotion suffused every inch of him, down to the slightest wrinkle of his nose and the polished shoe he tapped against the floor.

The drift of Cain's eyes caught on Casper's gaze like they hooked there. A shaky laugh sounded strangled around his hard swallow. "Well, I'm not bloody going to, alright? I—I don't want to just let this go. I don't want the next time I work up the courage to come down here to be knowing I went like this, and for you to just—just look at me like nothing has changed and—"

"And what makes you think anything's changed?" No matter that Casper's hand still tingled and his heart squeezed inside his chest at those words.

No matter that it felt like everything had changed and fuck how much he wanted it to.

And fuck the way Cain flinched from it and the way Casper's throat closed off as Cain took a step forward anyway. And another, and again until the polished toes of his shoes knocked against Casper's ragged sneakers, and when he tilted his head back, Casper could see every ray of caramel brightness in his eyes.

Heat came off Cain's fingers as he brushed them along the shell of Casper's ear, and right then, it was fire that gripped your limbs so tight they couldn't move, not ice. Cain's fingers trembled so bad, and each time that feather-light touch wavered away, his chest keened.

The rain was eternal in its guttural drone, and it swallowed him.

"Because it has to me," Cain whispered, and a crack went through the centre of his words. Thick, wet breaking that wrapped a hand up in Casper's gut and squeezed.

Because this couldn't be happening. Couldn't be fucking real. Couldn't be someone's jaw so tight when they looked at him and the way the light played amber off his eyes and this touch like electric and—

"And"—Cain's voice broke higher on that word, and his touch faltered—"if I really read it that wrong, I'm—I'm sorry, but I can't just let it go, Casper. I can't."

Was his chest supposed to feel like this? Aching tight, drowning in steamed fucking milk like he'd stuck his head beneath it the first day he saw those bright eyes. Everything since nothing but one long fucking fever dream as his mind sputtered and died.

But it wasn't. The trembling touch threading into his hair, peppermint breath on his lips. Cain's goddamn lips curving as his eyes flitted over Casper's face like he saw some secret there.

The secret everyone knew but him. Bury his corpse in a vat of coffee beans, Roach Boy was going soft. Syrup-weak in the goddamn knees for the raindrop charm in that smile.

Cain's hand settled on his waist, and Casper's heart just about leaped up his throat. Didn't mean to, but his whole body just sank into Cain's heat. The hem of his long coat knocked against Casper's ankles.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

Casper's heart beat so fucking hard he couldn't breathe. "No."

Cain laughed, bright and deep in his throat. "Casper, I don't know if you've realised, but your smile right now is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and it's probably going to be the most beautiful thing I ever will see unless you kiss me right now and keep fucking kissing me for as long as I live."

And literally no one in the world could blame him for the noise he made then. No one. Fuck, where was that milk-based asphyxiation when you needed it. Every single part of him ached, it quivered on a knife-edge set to ruin by Mr Might Actually Mean That Super Cute Smile.

Strung out to infinity, but the infinity ended as a starry thread slipping between the part of Cain's lips.

Deft fingers pulled up the hem of his hoodie, and Cain's hand slipped beneath. With only the veil of his t-shirt between that heat and his thrumming skin, Cain wrapped his arm around Casper's waist and pulled him in tight.

The solid plane of his chest and the buttons of his shirt and the promise in the way, when Casper lifted onto his tip-toes, Cain's hips pressed against his.

Shit, had anything ever felt like this before? The ache and the heat and his arteries in knots. Casper's fingers wound into the fabric of Cain's shirt, his breath catching as he strained on his toes to get closer.

Like anything could ever be close enough.

In the space where Casper's eyes fluttered shut, Cain's lips pressed against his. Soft, warm, the little gasp of breath tasted of peppermint, sliding over Casper's tongue as a groan broke from his throat.

The way he kissed was like heartbreak, the slow, careful movements like he savoured each taste of Casper's lips. Cain's hand spread over his back, a huge expanse of warmth drawing him inward, but each inch of closeness only made him ache more. Want more. Whimpering, Casper threaded his arms around Cain's neck, twisting fingers into silken hair. Closer. Deeper. Cain's teeth nipped against his lip and Casper groaned.

Fingers closed on his jaw, holding it open, and Cain's tongue slid against his. Electric. Wet and hot and that mint filling his mouth. No fucking cunt yuppie had any right kissing like this, but Casper was a fucking mess. His body trembled, the ache wrenching him with need and his veins fucking alight, and all of Cain's lithe bulk pressed against him was like a fucking taunt, and no matter how much Casper moaned and clawed at his hair and neck—

It engulfed him. He never wanted to let go.

And no matter the way Casper could feel how hard Cain breathed in the push of his ribs and the breath from his nose, he didn't let go. Absolute possession, and Cain took him so slowly. The tongue in Casper's mouth lingered, broken by hollow moments where Cain kissed and nipped at Casper's lips, drawing his tongue over them all while he forced Casper's jaw wide and let him whimper in need for the not fucking quite.

Maybe he laughed too. That low, throaty chuckle when Casper's eyes flashed open to find Cain already watching him. Dark eyes and Casper's lip caught between his teeth while Casper squirmed against him.

And something about it got him. Right low, a punch in the fucking gut amongst all the tension already writhing through his veins. He moaned, some heat convulsing through his body, and bucked this fucking ache in his jeans against Cain's thigh. Cain's eyes widened, a ragged gasp. His teeth loosened, and Casper surged up to kiss him again.

Because he fucking needed it. Those hot fucking lips and the deep, aching sounds Cain made when Casper tried so hard to search for relief while Cain taunted him with it. More, the image of the way his eyes danced, the smile that curved through the kiss and how fucking beautiful it all was. Got his heart in knots and he didn't know hearts could get this many knots, but Cain had his tight and messy as a fucking Gorgon's and he kind of just wanted to cry because of how fucking much this felt.

Somewhere in there, Cain's groping hands found his thighs, got him tight, hauled him up. Casper wound his legs around Cain's hips, sitting just right so that the hardness pressed right between Casper's legs, at the base of his cock and against his balls. He moaned as he ground into it, twisting his fingers through Cain's hair so tight that Cain hissed into the kiss. Around the laughter, behind the wide smile that made it so hard to kiss him. And this kind of moment had no room for anything but horniness, but Casper's fucking heart swelled anyway. Pressing against his ribs and surging butterflies up his throat. Casper peeked between his eyelashes. Dancing caramel syrup peeked back, so much brightness in his eyes that Casper melted.

Cain's whisper brushed peppermint over his lips. "Are you alright?"

Laughter burst from Casper's lips, and he rubbed his nose against Cain's, squirming at the chaos it sent through the butterflies. "You're stupid if you think I'm not."

"Good point." Cain's grip tightened on Casper's thighs, and idly, he turned where he was, slow steps that circled with rhythm, swaying a little as if he danced. His smile got wider while he held Casper's eyes, something awed and beatific in them as if he held an angel instead of the coffeeshop roach.

Cute and all, but it'd be cuter if he wasn't sort of ignoring Casper grinding against him. The suffocating need shifted into an itching kind of squirm, his cock aching and needy and not in the good way. Butting his nose against Cain's to make space, Casper kissed him again, but each needy press, Cain met with a playfulness at odds with the pure fucking dominance he'd gotten Casper with a moment ago. Like he said, nice and all, but ... had he done something wrong?

Swallowing it, Casper pressed in tighter to the heat. He fluttered kisses across Cain's cheek, behind his jaw and nipped at his earlobe, relishing the way Cain shivered against him. Some bitter forest taste bloomed on Casper's tongue as he dragged it around the shell of Cain's ear.

"You wanna fuck me, then?"

Cain's hands flexed on Casper's thighs, a tautness going through his chest and throat. The rough, strangled noise he made might as well have been a bucket of water dumped on all those butterflies, drowning their pretty little wings.

What had he done wrong? Something tightened in Casper's chest, sharp and hot, and if he'd had a hand free or space to find it, he'd have rubbed at it. 'Cause it kinda hurt.

But he wasn't trembling. No, that was Cain. The idle steps gone still and his fingers like claws in Casper's skin. Kinda hurt. Didn't matter, because when he drew his head back, Cain's smile had vanished and his face had kind of gone all pale and tight.

Casper brushed his fingers along Cain's cheekbone, and even though he leant into the touch, his eyes pressed tight shut. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." The answer came sharp and biting, but a moment later, he gasped and opened his eyes. "I don't—I'm—No. I'm—" Strong hands gathered Casper closer, jogging him up a little from where his hips had pressed against the fading hardness. Something keen and shifting lingered at the edge of Cain's soft eyes. "I don't really do ... this. And—and considering I still sort of feel like my chest's about to bloody burst just holding you, I suppose that means I can't do this."

"Oh."

Didn't really mean that to come out so hard, but it did. Thick with this disappointment that wallowed in his chest. A sting came to the corner of his eyes, and the way his cock still throbbed kind of felt a little more like shame.

"Cas, no—" Cain's fingers tilted his chin back up, and past his tight features, their reflection swayed in the drizzling window. A cascading torrent of shadowed black on black and Casper's white face peeking past Cain's shoulder. The rain still thundered around then, as if its rage was driven solely by the need to keep this moment safe and secret from the world.

"Not always, Cas," Cain murmured. "Just for a little bit. Let me get to know you first. I'd like that."

Casper sniffed and buried his face in Cain's shoulder even as he nodded. Closed his eyes so all that existed was the scratch of wool against his cheek, the thick heat, and the way Cain's breathing mingled with the downpour.

Soft and quiet and safe.

"No one likes me when they get to know me."

"Oh, I'm sure you're a right little brat." Cain laughed as Casper stiffened, the idle, dancing steps starting up again. "I'll eat it up, love. I'll kiss you when you're sly with me, and one day, I'll fuck you if you get sulky with me. I'll spoil you rotten and I'll hurt anyone who hurts you, even if it's entirely your fault. All of it just so I can see that beautiful way you smile."

A sob burst past Casper's lips, and with fingers fumbling back into the silken tangles of Cain's hair, Casper kissed him again. Long and deep and full of the stupid immortal butterflies running riot in his chest.

Sometime, Cain's steps took them over to the sofa, and he dropped into it with Casper perched on his lap. It was new, all this kissing. Maybe it'd be new and old for some people, but for Casper, it was just new. Cain ignored Casper rutting against him, and Casper did it just enough that he could indulge in this slow, delicious kiss.

And he did, for hours into the night, all broken up by Cain's sweet talk and long moments just holding him and breathing in his fresh scent and listening to the rain.

Later, he had a nice, hard wank in the shower while Cain dozed in his bed. Casper had left him there with wet hair loose across the pillow and his skin flushed pinkish from the bitter cold of the walk home followed by the heat. But it was real nice that this time when he opened his eyes from Mr Smile That'd Made A Home In His Chest bending him over the coffee counter and choking him out with his apron tie, it wasn't to an empty room and a handful of cooling jizz.

Well, it was, but at least when Casper crawled into bed, Cain pulled him close and nuzzled sweet nothings against his throat. Casper wasn't quite sure he'd ever slept so well.