James shudders and groans, his body shifting back against that touch, pressing himself back against Thor's firm, broad hands.

"Oils... massage oils," he manages finally, panting a little breathlessly. He nods to a massage bed across the room. Not that he's looked exactly, but he imagines Thor might be able to find a bottle around there somewhere. James isn't even a little bit picky about what Thor uses on him, so long as he fucks him.