Michael let Alex tug his shirt off, didn't fight the roll or the way Alex settled back against him. That moment of friction made him bite back a grown. He wanted this touching, wanted this slow, easy connection, wanted the slow build, even when his body was already aching.

He slid his fingers up under Alex's shirt, pushing it up and off to join his own, then tilted his head for Alex's mouth, eyes falling closed. His fingers slid back up Alex's back to tangle in his hair, keep his mouth there against his skin.

His hips rolled of their own accord, rocking into him, but slowly, more restless than deliberately falling into a rhythm. This was what he wanted, always. If they could stay like this, then nothing else would matter. None of it--none of the drama, none of the secrets, none of the worry for his family, for Alex. He dug his fingers into Alex's shoulders, holding on to him like he'd never let him go.

"That feels good..." It was just a murmur, and it was about more than what Alex's mouth was doing. It was all of it.