"Hey, you're the one that came back for seconds." Which wasn't it at all, but who was counting? Goddamn, that little gasp turned him on, everything Wash was doing was turning him on, and he couldn't wait to hear that sound again. C'mon, Wash, gimme. Gimme.

There was a roll of his hips again. "And I think you're in the best place, don't you?"

He almost laughed at the Freelancer's insistence to talk while he kissed around him. Really, dude, the topic was over and done with; they wouldn't get it on, fine. He didn't like it, but he wouldn't pressure Wash either; the guy would probably bail if he did, and while Tucker loved watching him leave with an ass like that, being alone for the night didn't sound nearly as pleasant as this.

"It's all relevant for future dates." There. A plan. A door opened for it, and he would keep him on it even when his head wasn't full of cotton and air and liquid courage. He opened his mouth to add something - he always had to add something - when that weight was down on him, a warm blanket of heat and strength. Hands were on his jaw a second later, his lips being kissed, and the pounding in his chest was loud enough to be heard in his ears. Fuck, that was hot. That was so hot. Fingers twitched against the other's back before digging in.

"Give me a reason to stop talking," he whispered with a sly smile, his glassy eyes sparkling in the dim light.