Gilmore was finding it hard to tear his eyes away from the canvas, his chest filling with warmth at how much J'mon- he felt unbelievably adored. That anyone, let alone J'mon, could feel this way about him was almost overwhelming. And that J'mon had kept the canvas, or that they had valued it enough that it had come to their room here-
He took a breath just as J'mon's hand touched him, as though his body were reaching out to the contact. His eyes flicked up then, meeting theirs as goosebumps exploded out from there their skin met. Gilmore's eyes darkened more, drinking in J'mon's face from such close proximity. "I don't do things by halves," he whispered. "I will give you everything. And I won't leave you waiting. I can't wait long to be back here. With you."
His eyes closed at the kiss, head tipping just fractionally so that his next words brushed the skin of J'mon's cheek. "Strange that I would have any reason to leave you," Gilmore teased gently, though presumably he would still have businesses to run. He loved his work, he'd been through a lot to establish it. "But I suppose if I have to leave it just means we have time to miss each other. I'll make it up to you."
The hand not occupied by J'mon's slid around their waist, sliding slowly up and down their back, feeling them. He wanted more, desperately. And something about this new knowledge soothed a part of Gilmore he'd needed time to deal with. Which meant he could be back here sooner.