[ To the dulcet tones of Di'Caprio, a hand slides down Gamzee's chest to split its fingers around the line of a similarly jean-clad cock, stroking experimentally to seek out the angle and knead a little more firmly over the head, giving him something to rub against. It's not as if Dave isn't doing the same thing, renouncing his ability to ignore getting pawed in the same moment he captures that kiss, keeping it as reserved as he can for now. Black curls spring up through his knuckles, soft and sensual. The way Dave parts his thighs to fit another pair in speaks for itself, almost as much as the lowered lashes slightly visible through his shades at such close range. ]
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