Thibault was relieved as hell when Dante didn't push his hand away. Encouragement was even better. Tibs could feel himself getting harder, thickening and getting longer - he was a grower, thank Merlin - as the realization set in that yeah, this was happening. Dante's hand felt good, that spark of exhilaration and a little panic, that same familiar feeling he always got when anyone touched him there. He'd done it before, but it always made him nervous. There were other things he greatly preferred.
His fingers wrapped around Dante's thick cock, giving a squeeze, pulling the foreskin slowly up his length as he stroked. Uncut, that was a little different. Most guys at school were cut. Tibs was. He pressed closer to him, head tipping up to look Dante in the eye while he half-asked, half-demanded, "I want to suck your dick."
His tongue flickered out to make his lips a little wet, fingers squeezing harder for a moment, a good, strong grip as he gave him another stroke. Thumb swiped over at the tip of his length, swirling around that little hole at the head of Dante's cock.