[He releases the skin with a pop and a low, moaned sigh when Aidan's hand makes contact with his clothed length. He pushes into it in kind before chuckling darkly.]
Don't do what? [His hand lets up off of his crotch to trace his fingers, feather-light up the zipper of his jeans. He tugs at the button to get it open, then slowly clicks the zipper down, one by one.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Then he latches on like a leach to Aidan's throat determined to raise another small hickey over his pulse.]