"Noo, woulda been a puddle in da bottom of da boat last night if dat was da case," Dusty snorted, recalled where he'd slept, if it could have been called that. It hadn't been the first time, and he highly doubted it would be the last. Other than being a bit stiff, he was no worse for wear. His knuckles were the worst off after pounding the hard wood floors with his fists, where Caelan had hit him a distant memory with no evident of the incident. Dusty was back to his easygoing nature, teasing and taunting, waiting for Caelan to take the bait, please when he finally did.<br/><br/>Dusty likely tasted like moonshine, but Caelan hadn't seemed to care. Dusty pulled him deeper into the kiss, fingers moving up to grip his hips. He let out a sigh and licked up one of the beads of water that had trailed down the young man's neck. It was slower and less urgent than the first time they'd touched one another in the truck. It wasn't as if they had anywhere they needed to be right then, or the desire to head out in the storm. The night before hadn't gone as expected, but perhaps the weather was a blessing in disguise. It gave them time to cool over their little rift, and there they were again, unable to keep their hands off one another.<br/><br/>"What else you like dat I do?" Dusty asked in that raspy cajun drawl. They'd gone over enough of what Dusty did that Caelan<i>didn't </i>like. He could appreciate the other side of the coin. There was a reason they kept reuniting, so the good had to outweigh the bad. That, or Caelan was really just that desperate. Dusty wouldn't have blamed him one way or another.