This was what Sean was used to. Harsh, mindless, use or be used. And he'd broken long ago, was more than happy to be used. Because he could read the other man easily -- he needed something just as badly, couldn't find it where he wanted and so was turning elsewhere.
Sean was used to being that elsewhere.
He kissed the older man hungrily, desperately, fingers clutching at his shirt. He wanted to beg already -- the Nast pride was long gone. But instead he just groaned.