Mark still had enough left of his mind to know to leave Gat's bad hand out of things. He wasn't really thinking about hands, anyway, at least other than his own, groping for Gat's fly, slipping the zipper down to slide inside the fabric, gripping the hard flesh of his cock to pull it out. It seemed altruistic, but in fact he just wanted to encourage Gatlin to do the same to him, to get rid of at least the immediate need.