You are... so lucky that we're not meeting under different circumstances. I could end you right here. [ He lifts his hand from Irving's shoulder on sudden impulse and lightly brushes it down his throat, admiring, for a moment, the fragility—he probably wouldn't even need both hands to end this man. He returns to properly straddling Irving's hips again, gently tracing a line down the center of his neck with his thumb, following the ridge of cartilage into the dip beneath it.

He hears himself inhale rather sharply as he returns to grinding against him, carefully pacing himself, equally mindful of his hand's position as he continues to maintain touch but not pressure. The sound itself feels alien, something he didn't realize he was capable of. Lot of that today. ]

I bet you'd— you'd probably get off on that too, wouldn't you—