Those hands roaming him, appreciating everything they could reach, was intoxicating. Just as living out Francis's passing collage fantasies were. There'd been a lewd primal need to be slick against the pirate, to see him come undone and be taken over by one of the only thing grown men welcomed taking them over. It was the best way to escape how much he had missed James's company and the way his lips turned up in a smirk or the way his brow furrowed when he was considering something or-

Once he's gently bullied his way past the ring of tight resistance, groaning under his breath, he forces himself still, giving James a chance to adjust and him just enough time to cap the bottle and toss it on the pillows. With his hands free, he spread his hands down and back up James's thighs, palms strong and slick, he leaned his hips into it, pushing slowly as he watches his lover's face for any sign he should stop. But with a careful shallow thrust or two, he was buried root deep and fully shuddered with a faint roll back of his head and a murmured, "Fuck."

Tucking his hands into the crook of one of Flint's leg, he gently brushes the fingers holding the second away so he could guide it out to the side a little. The position James had rolled himself into looked.. a little uncomfortable. Once that was done, he flashes James a roughish smile and starts moving in long, slow thrusts.