Gilmore would have been happy if that was it. If J'mon decided they were done with him for the time being he wouldn't have complained. And he knew they knew that. So of course he wasn't going to resist being held in their arms, his own winding over them, pressing his hand to the skin between their shoulder blades to hold him close.
His eyes closed at the touching, enjoying every pet of fingers over his hair and skin and chest, sucking in a sudden breath at the brush over his nipple. Gilmore's slowing pulse immediately began to quicken again and he bumped his nose affectionately against J'mon's.
"Oh," the sound escaped his lips as though he were surprised at where their hand was going, as though he weren't expecting them to undo his pants and press inside. And it didn't occur to him at any point to tell J'mon to stop. He would have been satisfied without, certainly, but he would also never deny them anything, lifting his hips to help the removal of his pants, feeling heat rising from his chest to his cheeks at finally being exposed. J'mon knew him. They knew him intimately, so his shyness was unfounded and quite uncharacteristic.
And whilst he was under no illusion that J'mon wouldn't do anything they didn't want to, to be told this - Gilmore, naked, hard, spread out for them - was something they desired was wonderful to hear. He watched in wonder as they knelt there, pushing their fingers through their hair, making goosebumps prickle on his thighs where it touched his skin.
What did he want?
Gilmore blinked, trying to make his brain function, words in both common and Marquesian failing him for the moment, reaching for J'mon's hair and sliding his fingers gently through it. He wanted to ask what would please them, but they had offered him his choice, and Gilmore would not turn down such a gift.
"Your mou- Your mouth. Please. If that would please you," he said. He didn't know what else he could ask for. Their hand, perhaps, so that they could kiss at the same time? But this way, when they kissed, he would taste himself there. "Should I warn you?" Gilmore whispered, his voice rough, the words slipping out before he had time to focus on them. "Your hand would be just as good." He couldn't promise to last long, anyway. Not this time at least. "You should show me all of the ways I can have your body. Next time. Please."