Michael grabs for Caleb's neck, palming it so he can't slide away until he's thoroughly done kissing him, and he yanks at him, trying to keep him close, parting his lips to deepen it at that moan, knowing that there's no way he can possibly hold back.

Not now, not like this.

Fuck, it's as good as he'd expected, even if he's a little surprised that Caleb doesn't taste like booze, given how tipsy he's been acting all night.