They moved together like they had been with each other for ages, as if his was a dance whose choreography was carved into the very fabric of his existence. Maybe it was. Maybe he'd spent his life like a firefly pulsing out a rhythm of flickers that only now found its exact match. Oh he was in trouble, and he didn't care.

He just wanted this, wanted Henry, wanted it to never end.

His eyes widened at the way Henry reacted, that half-sound and the way his body went so starkly arched against his own. Oh. Oh that was good.

"Right here, baby?" And he drove his hips at that angle deliberately, harder now, intent on striking that angle again and again.