Fingers scrabbled from the furniture cloth, down his legs, almost to reach out for the head of golden hair attached to the cheeks which brushed his skin so consistently, then back up, to end with clutching part of his own upper legs.

Silence radiating from him even when his fingers were clenched, shaking, vices, and his teeth buried against his bottom lip, with his head pressing into the cushion when his hips began to claim a rhythm all their own.