That at least, he could do. He groaned as Finn pressed back up against him, the friction so bitterly sweet that he bit down into his lip, hard, as he shifted his position. Anything. Yeah. Yeah, he could do that.

He kept himself pressed up hard against him, but shifted so that he could find Finn's shoulder with his teeth, gnawing at the muscle as he snaked and arm around him, taking him fully into hand with a strong, forceful rhythm to his strokes, pressing up against him as if he was doing just as he had threatened, banging them both hard into the stone with every thrust.