This was fucked up. This whole thing was just... fucked. And he liked it. There was no way that James could ever deny the sheer eroticism of this night. If he never touched another man again, lived the rest of his life settling for women, he was tempted to believe that he may be content with that as long as he had this night to hold onto. This was nothing like anything he'd ever done before and yet it was exactly like things he had done before, girl shoved against a wall, fucked with his fingers until she came around them, which was satisfying, but not nearly as satisfying as hearing this man whimper his name.
He could feel his libido leap back to life in response to his words and the thought to turn this man around and have him was almost overwhelming. But he didn't want to be one of those guys. So instead, he just changed the angle of his hand so that he could move it a bit faster, his hand that had been holding Fisher's own finally releasing its grasp only to slide up his side and hook beneath his shoulder, pulling him tight to him as he pressed himself in, supporting him against the wall as he continued to moan and tremble.