Breathless and weak, Fisher's body moved to however James wanted. He was powerless to fight this, not that he would even think of doing that. It wasn't just that James terrified him, it wasn't that he owed James, it wasn't that the other man could easily overpower him if he wanted to. It wasn't just that Fisher hadn't had an orgasm in months and he wanted this more than anything, possibly more than drugs. It was because this felt right, even though it felt wrong and he would be disgusted with himself later. This moment felt better than so many other moments had, and he didn't want to lose that feeling.
Close to James, pressed against him, Fisher buried his face in the crook of the other man's shoulder, kissing and licking his salty skin. One hand moved up to tangle its fingers in the man's blonde locks, his other pressed flat between James' shoulderblades. The scars were obvious under his palms, and somehow that made James all the more desireable. "Yes," Fisher moaned against his skin, kissing and tasting him. He was going to explode soon, he could feel it, shoot himself between them and cover them in his cum. That thought alone made his hips jerk, made his breath run from him in a deep, desperate gasp.