Ian let him undo his jeans, pull them down. Gabe ran a hand down Ian’s shoulder and arm, hesitating to touch him anywhere else, though his eyes fell to Ian’s chest.
“Go ahead,” said Ian. He sank down to the bed, let Gabe straddle him, run his hands over Ian’s chest. Ian didn’t really work out much—not as much as Gabe seemed to, at least—but he liked his chest much better now, even with the scars. It just sat right on him. Gabe’s touch was gentle and felt right, too, and Ian eased under his hands. He parted his lips slightly; Gabe took the hint and kissed him again.
Ian brought his hands up to Gabe’s ass, squeezed. Dragged Gabe’s body against his, torn between kissing him and wanting to go down on him. Gabe thumbed Ian’s n****e, which was sensitive enough still to feel the touch, excite I
