[ His body is reactive in the mildest circumstances. Moaning now is a foregone conclusion. Quentin's hips hitch into the touch, pushes through Peter's guiding grip on his chin to beg for another kiss--cups around his face to kiss him back against the shower wall. He wants to know. He does. But the demanding touch from Peter is--good, surprisingly good for as strange as it is. His only worry--thumb hooking Peter's chin, pressing it open to plunge into his mouth--is keeping up.
[ Show me. His pleased, hungry hum resonates in both their mouths. Show me. ]
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[ Show me. His pleased, hungry hum resonates in both their mouths. Show me. ]