Kavinsky was a mess of anticipation, a quiver of nerves and over-stimulation, by the time that Lee came up his body. The smell of sex was still heavy all around them, and it was only making everything more heady and intense. Lee's body was solid and heavy against his, warm, trapping his hand down on his cock as Lee's hips pressed against his. Kavinsky groaned softly; it was more like a whimper.

It was easy to open his mouth, easy to tilt into the kiss and receive the filthy offering Lee was giving him. His breath hitched up, exponential and needy, as he licked up into Lee's mouth, chasing every taste, every drop he could get from him.

The curl of Lee's fingers made him move his own fingers from his cock down to his balls. He squeezed and fondled, arching up into Lee's touch, body taut with desperation and need, right on the edge.