"Joanna was a tough bitch," he agreed, starting to lower his head but lifting it again as James leaned in close. Closing his eyes, he purred lightly at the feather touch of the man's lips, shivered as his teeth scraped the skin. "Sometimes," he breathed, nails digging lightly into James' shoulders. "Whatever makes me feel wanted." That was what Fisher seemed to look for in people, was them making him feel wanted, like he mattered. So far, James made him feel wanted, sometimes highly desireable. It might have been nice if James were a woman, but life rarely worked the easiest way.
His hands roamed over the skin on James' back, fingers spread to touch every possible inch. "You make me feel wanted," he whispered, pressing a few kisses along James' earlobe, trailing down to his jaw. "You're like a drug. I think about you all the time, and I know you're bad for me but... I can't keep away." His lips brushed over the other man's, a smile on them. "I don't want to keep away. I want to drown in you." Cupping James' face, Fisher brushed his thumbs over the man's cheeks, their foreheads touching. "I really hate what you're doing to me."