Zach's hands on his back made Merlin feel like he was collapsing inside, the line where their bodies touched burned, the hands at the small of his back that kept him there seemed as unyielding as stone.
He trembled but had to kiss back, even if it was because it was the only way he was going to get any air. His mouth was unpractised, his kiss tasted naive, he didn't try to deepen it because he didn't know how (well, not really, not when visions and flashes of not-yet-happened memory didn't count) and because it scared him more than anything had ever had, more than nightmares, more than acrobat stalkers.