Wesley shoving his hand down his pants and grabbing him sent a bolt of heat so intense throughout his body, Conrad was convinced his heart had stopped dead in his chest. His pupils were blown wide, every trace of oxygen gone from his body. And in that moment, he knew he'd never been so turned on in his entire blessed life.
He wanted Wesley. God, how he wanted him. But Conrad had been terrified to cross that line. It was something they could never come back from, something that couldn't be undone. But he had thought about it. Often. He imagined what Wesley's hands would feel like upon him, and oh, how reality was so much better than his imagination.
Conrad didn't put up the slightest hint of resistance when Wesley pushed him down. Was it okay to take this step? Were they even remotely ready for it? These were questions his logical brain would have asked, had it been working. But Conrad was ready and willing to throw all caution to the wind, seeing Wesley shirtless and wielding his belt like that. He reached out, his own hand smoothing over the front of Wesley's jeans and fondling him through the fabric.
How badly did he want him? Those dark eyes looked directly up at Wesley's face as he answered, "Desperately."