It's easy to get carried away with how much Francis seems to enjoy the way Bullseye does things. He might be an unstable murderer, but when it comes to things like this he enjoys when his partner is completely into it. Maybe it's an ego thing. The older marksman doesn't waste any more time worrying about it because his impatience is at an all time high.

The sounds Francis is making and the way he feels around his fingers has him not wanting to wait any longer to be inside him. His fingers move more quickly than he might go in an ideal situation, but the desperation seems mutual so he pulls them out so he can slick his cock with lube. He catches those lips in a quick kiss again before pushing Francis down on his back, tugging his pants off the rest of the way to throw them aside and settle between his led.

When he pushes in at last he swears under his breath. "Fuck. Put your hands on me." It's more of a demand than a request, and he knows he's still bleeding in some places, but he obviously doesn't care. He nudges himself deeper little by little, slow stabbing motions until he's filled him up, at which point his hips draw back to push in again but less gentle this time. Bullseye repeats the motion and keeps his eyes on Francis to gauge his response.