[ God but it feels good to turn John loose. Those hands tugging at the cloth of his shirt, that approving noise. Poe hisses at the grind, then the hand on his half-erect penis through the cloth. He bites John's lower lip. Loosens his grip and runs his tongue over the spot. It's a favorite trick, the rough and the sweet. ]
Take your pants off.
[ They're still there, half-way down John's legs, now nothing but in the way. ] Then undress me, Sheppard.
[ He runs his hands through John's hair, looking the man dead in the eyes. ] Please.
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Take your pants off.
[ They're still there, half-way down John's legs, now nothing but in the way. ] Then undress me, Sheppard.
[ He runs his hands through John's hair, looking the man dead in the eyes. ] Please.