There was nothing like the feeling of Jim stretching him slow, always making sure he wouldn't be hurt or sore. No one else, no one he trusted - not because he didn't think it would feel good, but - fucking him, sliding inside him - that was for Jim.

Why that mattered to him, Leonard had no idea, but that one thing, that belonged to Jim and no one else. "I'll get it," he said, another squeeze before he pulled back. "Gotta get dressed, I guess," he chuckled, wondering where he'd kicked off his shoes.

They spent most of their time here sans clothes.