Whatever this was, it needed to stop. It needed to stop.

Control was something Holland had in spades. He knew how to school himself into barely existing. Barely feeling anything. But Kell was like lightning in a bottle and the lid was barely screwed on. His arms were wrapped around him so tightly that Holland didn’t want them to let go.

But he couldn’t have him grabbing him like that either.

Kell ended up on his back on the cot with his wrists pinned on either side of his head, and Holland caught his breath; panting softly against the younger mans mouth, “You don’t really want this.” Me.

Holland didn’t want this. Or at least he isn’t been aware that he did until those lips were against his.