Francis can't entirely help himself, sliding fingers and slow touches against the shape of his cock, likes how he feels under his hand. He likes the way his hips rock up into the touch, the touch and contact, the heat of his skin. He lets his hand slip from his pants, mostly so that he can tug them open, make it easier.
Then Bullseye's pulling him up onto his knees, dragging his pants down his legs so he's exposed, but Francis is more than willing. He leans up a little, blue eyes dark with lust, aching for it. He drags in a rough breath, trembles slightly from the feeling when those fingers rub against him, lube-slick and then sinking into him and he moans low and needy with the feel of it against his mouth.
He's not expecting the third, but it's not complaint, either. Hands catch on the man's shoulders and there's a sharp catch to his breath, but he presses into it, too. It's harsher than the first two, that way he wasn't expecting it quite so fast, but he likes sex a little harsh most of the time, just like he does with everything else, and he can't resist how he rolls his hips against him, and the heat that's almost electric.
Francis' head tips back as lips part and he's instead kissing his collarbone, nips of teeth and suction that leaves red marks on his pale skin. But he doesn't mind; likes the way teeth scrape and how he can feel the marks even after he's found another bit of skin to occupy his attention. He shifts a little, like he's offering more skin, making it easier. His hands shake, teeth biting at his bottom lip as he tries to not make it too obvious, how he's unraveling, aching for it.
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Then Bullseye's pulling him up onto his knees, dragging his pants down his legs so he's exposed, but Francis is more than willing. He leans up a little, blue eyes dark with lust, aching for it. He drags in a rough breath, trembles slightly from the feeling when those fingers rub against him, lube-slick and then sinking into him and he moans low and needy with the feel of it against his mouth.
He's not expecting the third, but it's not complaint, either. Hands catch on the man's shoulders and there's a sharp catch to his breath, but he presses into it, too. It's harsher than the first two, that way he wasn't expecting it quite so fast, but he likes sex a little harsh most of the time, just like he does with everything else, and he can't resist how he rolls his hips against him, and the heat that's almost electric.
Francis' head tips back as lips part and he's instead kissing his collarbone, nips of teeth and suction that leaves red marks on his pale skin. But he doesn't mind; likes the way teeth scrape and how he can feel the marks even after he's found another bit of skin to occupy his attention. He shifts a little, like he's offering more skin, making it easier. His hands shake, teeth biting at his bottom lip as he tries to not make it too obvious, how he's unraveling, aching for it.