Holly '06: First

When he kisses Ezra for the first time, he tells himself to be careful. The fireside kiss is brief but with purpose beneath the shelter of a chestnut tree, and Vin tenses everything except his lips. His hand is resting on his gun, a caution unseen and unneeded, a safety rig just in case the world falls out beneath him. But Ezra's hands find his face and touch him just there, and the world is what falls far enough away that all he cares about is soft and wet and warm.

The first time they kiss in daylight is in a shallow dell outside of town. There isn't time for words or oaths, a ricochet of whispers to betray their hiding, crouched and ready and hoping to God that the others are already in place. The blood is drying on Vin's coat and he winces when they part, but there's no time to think about that now. Just dry breath and hard mouths and the crushing grip Ezra holds on his shoulder before they leap into the fray.

The first time they kiss in anger, it's all teeth and struggling tongues, and the deeper bruises come more from words than fists. Ezra is a fool and a coward, a liar and a thief, and Vin tears at his clothing, dropping to his knees to take him in his mouth and prove his point.

When Vin first kisses Ezra in his room, the curtains are drawn and the door unlocked, thoughtless and reckless, and all Vin knows is that the bullet didn't hit flesh, didn't draw blood. The only blood is on Vin's fists, smashed into the roof tile, gripping Ezra's jaw, all rage and furious, trembling gratitude as he strips Ezra bare just to be sure. Their bodies kiss then, flushed and straining, clutching with hands and tangled legs, exchanging cries of fear for treasured sounds of relief and longing.

Whenever they kiss, Vin knows he should be careful, but all he cares about is Ezra.