If his duty now and in their real life was to serve J'mon with his body then Gilmore wasn't going to complain. He would fully embrace his lot in life and die a happy man at the end of his days. It was in wedding vows, wasn't it? Along those lines. With my body I worship you. Should J'mon favour him with their hand one day, Gilmore would ensure that line was in his vows.
Watching J'mon come undone under his touch was never going to grow old, either. Even now he rose up enough that he could watch the pleasure flicker over his face, watch the flush in their skin. He would give them everything. Everything he had was theirs already. And it was a wonderful feeling. It was a wonderful feeling to just belong with someone. And to someone. But very much with. J'mon treated him as an equal except on these mutually agreed occasions. It was a partnership, and Gilmore couldn't imagine his other self would view it in any other way.
He smiled as he stretched his fingers and saw the reaction it got. It helped him reach more places than he could any other way. He kept the movement constant, fingers spread, pressing in deep, pulling out, pressing in again. And Gilmore watched in wonder as they tensed, as they cried out, as their body arched off of the bed. Their body clenched tightly around his fingers, making it difficult and then impossible for him to keep moving.
Gilmore let out a heavy breath as the muscles rippled around him, his eyes wide. He needed the closeness as much as J'mon did then, shifting his body over to half cover them, his free hand sliding into their hair as he pressed the softest kiss to their lips. One of his legs curled over J'mon's, spreading their thighs slightly but with no intention other than to get more of himself on top of them.
"I have you," he whispered, as though J'mon needed his care and his protection. It didn't matter if they didn't, they could have it all anyway. "I am yours."
At length Gilmore could draw his fingers out, bereft though he was again to no longer be inside J'mon. He shifted over further, settling himself properly between their thighs, on top of them, just to surround them with his body. And he took the opportunity once more to look at his bracelet, to admire it in the light on the bed.
"Do you need more?" he asked with a smile, his cock still not soft again, though he could certainly wait if J'mon wanted his hands or his mouth or something else. Gilmore pressed his lips along J'mon's jaw, down to their throat, breathing in deeply and basking in the scent of them. They smelt like home.