How was it that years accompanied by heartbreak and drama could go by and still Dean felt this way? He hadn't forgotten what Dempsey tasted like, or felt like against him, or what he would react to. How was it this easy?

It was so easy that Dean let go of the hesitations in the back of his head. Dempsey hadn't shoved him away, he was leaning in closer, hands on his face. Something in Dean snapped and the floodgates opened up again. He pushed forward, finding purchase on the wall behind Dempsey and pushed him back against it slowly. His hands worked down Dempsey's body until one reached the leg wrapped around him, hand pressing into the muscle as his hips rolled forward.

He refused to surrender the kiss, diving deeper, pressing in closer, getting drunk on the feeling he'd been missing for these last three long years. Nobody ever quite satisfied him like this, even though he'd gone in search of it, always coming up disappointed. He was going to take his fill until one of them came to their senses.