He failed at getting to Conrad's room without at least a few indecent ass grabs but he did succeed in getting through the door without falling over his feet again, no thanks to all the blood that had decided to abandon his brain just now. Thankfully he was able to catch himself from falling headfirst into the room by the time Conrad managed to unlock his door. From practically the second their mouths met again, his hands got themselves twisted in Conrad's shirt like they couldn't decide whether to push the shirt up a little or just rip the whole thing off. There was a soft spot just above the hem of Conrad's pants that his fingers kept dipping down to that kept distracting him.
Fuck. He was singing again. Wes had always laughed at the idea of sirens before. It sounded so stupid. Losing your head because over a pretty voice? But now he got it. Whatever was coming out of Conrad's mouth, it wasn't music. It was magic. It was beautiful and pulled at strings that he didn't even know he had. Was this the part where the siren showed its true colors and devoured him?
Oh. Wes hoped so.
He could remember not that long ago when they'd been here, naked. There had been a few looks he'd tried sneaking but they'd never been for long. Always quick glances or else risk being caught. Now he was being given the opportunity to look as much as he wanted. His eyes went dark. It took all of his self-control not to push Conrad back into the bed.
Plan B was sliding himself between Conrad's long legs and half-kneeling into lip of the bed with one knee, hovering himself a little over those lusty blue eyes. "Show me all of them."