Kavinsky rolled his eyes, lingering at the edge of the partition. He peered around him, hummed vaguely. There was nothing back there but a small bench, but he could still look at it consideringly. What there was were small screens on both sides of the wall. Presumably for porn, as it would be in any booth shop. Or, Kavinsky supposed, so whoever was doing the fucking could see what was happening on the adverse side of the partition.

"You're awfully picky, you know," he said, teasingly. "Do you even know what you're looking for?"

As he spoke, he casually opened his jeans, reaching down them to play with himself a little. His gaze moved hungrily over Cain's body. He knew what he was looking for, right this moment, and it didn't necessarily need toys or machines.