He nods, even though Hobbes can't see him. He's satisfied.

At least one of them should be.

It's too easy to get lost in just looking at this. The candles turn everything warm gold. Tom's back curves in a graceful line when he arches, the muscles of his shoulders standing out in abnormally sharp relief. He's seen him from this angle so many times now.

The first time he'd looked like fucking marble. Perfect. Pristine.

He'd taken care of that, hadn't he?

"Get up." His hand slips away from Tom's cock and lands hard on his ass again. "On your knees. Don't make me tell you twice."