“I’m getting to it. Most impatient person I’ve ever met, you.” He pulls Reza out of the room by a belt loop, tugging him along through the flat.
When he’s got Reza spread out on the bed, both of them down to only their pants, Vince toys with the idea of taking his time, offering not nearly the type of friction he wants until he’s pulling at Vince’s hair and doing his approximation of begging.
But it’s not just Reza dying for that closeness, is it. “How do you want it,” Vince rasps out, pulling away to fumble for the lube in the drawer. “First time we do this, how do you want it.”
Vince could take it a lot of directions, personally—could haul Reza up onto his knees and lean him back into his chest, feel the hammer of his pulse when Vince starts thrusting, he could straddle Reza and ride
