It's sort of freeing he thinks. Not to be the one who's too hopeful and making too many assumptions. It's easier, he thinks, not to fear being himself.

"It's always good," he reminds, kissing down Kyle's thigh and running his hand along the soft inside of his leg, teasing his way closer to Kyle's hard on. All it takes it that little movement. That little stretch of his hip to set Quentin's mind spinning like a slot machine, scrolling through every potential option at hand. Images of Kyle's cock in hand. In mouth. Kyle on his feet. On his back. On his knees. Hands on Quentin's head, his back, his butt.

"Was your first time crappy?" he asks. His fingertips graze up the length of him.