Wesley laughs, warm and easy, something twinkling in his eyes as he moves further down, not teasing as he lets himself flop onto his stomach, arms pushing under Q's thighs to prop them further up. But instead of going to town on him right away, he puts that mouth on Q's thigh, tracing his lips down along the sensitive inside. The dampness of his breath washes over soft skin, dips into the crease beside pelvic bone, tongue darting out to draw a wet line there...