[Yeah. Jesus Christ. If John's laugh at that had been a fraction higher pitched, it would've been a giggle. Elliot may have been figuring John out slowly as they continued to share this space, but he was still a near-complete mystery. That was part of what made him so unbearably alluring.
John stood up and straightened out his legs to stretch them, then took off his own pants and underwear. Not his shirt: there was very, very little that made him self-conscious, but his height and the sunken, hollow look of his chest and abdomen were among those things. The latter had gotten a bit better while he'd been living here, but his metabolism would never be quite right after being near-starving for five years.
If Elliot moved to take it off, he'd let him, but he wasn't volunteering it. He just got back into Elliot's lap, cock hard and flushed between them, and smirked at him; one hand caught his right arm by the wrist, holding his hand up so he could press his own palm to palm against it, his fingers so much shorter than Elliot's. He really fucking loved Elliot's hands, maybe because he was so often typing at the speed of light, which really showed off how slender and nimble his fingers were.]
Now, I wanna feel your hands on me. Not just my hair.
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John stood up and straightened out his legs to stretch them, then took off his own pants and underwear. Not his shirt: there was very, very little that made him self-conscious, but his height and the sunken, hollow look of his chest and abdomen were among those things. The latter had gotten a bit better while he'd been living here, but his metabolism would never be quite right after being near-starving for five years.
If Elliot moved to take it off, he'd let him, but he wasn't volunteering it. He just got back into Elliot's lap, cock hard and flushed between them, and smirked at him; one hand caught his right arm by the wrist, holding his hand up so he could press his own palm to palm against it, his fingers so much shorter than Elliot's. He really fucking loved Elliot's hands, maybe because he was so often typing at the speed of light, which really showed off how slender and nimble his fingers were.]
Now, I wanna feel your hands on me. Not just my hair.