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Dylan's head swam. Black crept in at the edges of their vision even as the flash of jarred-nerve white filled the center. The steely taste of blood filled their mouth. And then the eXstasy hit. The familiar arousal stirred into the hurt. Pure, identifiable pain that sang in the burn of scratches and the aching disorientation in their skull. So much better than the usual loneliness as warm breath leered at them on party nights. As the sexual tension rose, thoughts of Robin pushed into the swirling confusion and Dylan smiled. "Why do you hate her so much? She loves you so fucking much and you don't know how good you have it.

Not at all. Go for it!

Damn it! I just had a great thought. Anyone mind if I ignore my promise to wait?