Fisher fell back onto the bed easily, the warning bells going wild in his head. This was a bad idea. This was a horrible idea. Doing shit like this had gotten him in trouble to begin with, had ruined his life with James. And if he had any sense at all he would stop this immediately. But he didn't have much sense.
His stomach flinched beneath Will's touch. "I shouldn't... we shouldn't..." He put a hand to Will's face, pulling the angel upward toward his face. His lips were inches from Will's, breath in short, sharp gasps. "I can't," he whispered. Talk about sending mixed signals. His brain was only working in stages, though, so in another minute he might forget this and just fuck the guy.
Taking the angel's face in his hands, he pressed a soft kiss to Will's forehead, another to the bridge of his nose, another to the tip of it. "Ugh, damn conscience," he whispered, resting his forehead against Will's. He still wanted him, badly. And it was obvious. But he couldn't do it. Hopefully.