There was a lot more than met the eye when it came to James McCafferty. And there was more than met the eye where Fisher Majors was concerned as well. But maybe they could keep that a secret on both counts, not let it outside of this room. That would probably work out for the best for both of them if they did.
"Not if I kicked you out," James replied with a smirk, but he had no desire to see him go. He felt like he had been alone for so long and it was just so nice to have someone else here, to have contact, to feel someone else's skin against his, to heart someone else's breathing, their heart beating. It was nice to not feel so alone.
Hands moved to the other man's hip bones, fingers tracing a path along them as he scoffed a little. "You call this perfect?" He might act like he thought he was precisely that, but he knew better. "I'm a scarred up mess." And as a fingertip traced over one that was particularly harsh just above his naval, he added, "See?" Hands slid up over the other man's stomach. "My skin's not nearly as smooth and soft as yours."