"Then... I dunno." He leans in further, barely brushing a nipple with his lips, framing it briefly. His hand moves lower, one fingertip tracing a small patch of silky, exposed skin before he cups him, kneading gently. Christ, he's missed this. But it's so familiar it's like he never stopped.
"Think we can think of something... we put our heads together."
no subject
"Think we can think of something... we put our heads together."