Gabe was more than a little startled himself. He hadn't meant to... well, whatever he had intended, it hadn't been to end up four inches away from a wide-eyed William. His blood thundering under Gabe's hand. (Hands; there was an echo of it beneath the grip he had on William's wrist.) The heave of his chest against Gabe's and his breath coming fast past barely parted lips.
The wand landing was the loudest thing Gabe had ever heard. He let William go like his skin was scalding (and not just an enticing touch over warm) and backed up, but barely a step and a half away his own back hit the shelf opposite and forced the breath out of his lungs. "Shit," he whispered.
And then he looked up to the end of the aisle, where there was a flurry of movement that belied the apparently deserted state of this corner of the library.