Pressing their bodies together with gentle force, hips meeting hips, Zeph's kisses wandered down to Zeke's neck, occasionally licking. This was the taste he wanted. "You taste good," he mumbled in the crook of Zeke's neck, one hand rising to brush through the other man's hair.
He didn't want to stay in the hall, but neither did he want to tug Zeke around, which put him in a slightly tricky spot. He didn't want to assume anything, didn't dare to, no matter how much Zeke seemed to be on the good side of him. "We should move..." he mumbled instead, nibbling lighly at the other man's earlobe.