The building tension of the hurricane couldn't compete with the tension of the moment before Qebhet kissed him, her fingers on his cheek capturing every single last bit of his attention. Much leaned into it, pushing back at her a little, his hand closing tighter around hers but trying not to grab her even though he felt like he was crackling with the need to be closer, to press his body hard up against hers. He couldn't forget Orpheus' slow down, lover any more than he could forget Tuck's ask first, but reminding himself to take it slow and actually being able to were two different things, and Much groaned as his tongue slipped into her mouth, and his other hand came up to her face, fingers curled around the back of her neck.
In the pit of his stomach though, her words you don't feel like a risk settled into something twitchy and anxious - the knowledge that there was absolutely nothing risk-free about any of this.
But god he didn't want to think about that, he just wanted to kiss her, and she wanted to kiss him too and - so long as both those things kept being true, the want remained louder than anything else.