Day doesn't look away, not even when he sees himself get all droopy-eyed as Travis pushes in.
He can't look away, not from Travis, nor from how he looks, when Travis finally is seated to the hilt.
But then he starts a slow grind, not touching his cock, just grinding against each other.
The bathroom starts filling with the muffled sounds of their passion and the wetness from where they are joined.
Day is fucked out, eyes rolling at the back of his head, and that wet, soft head keeps hitting his prostate again and again.
"Let's not fight ever again," Travis says, breathing hard and also looking like the absolute corruptive one of hell that Day feels for since day one. "I hate when we fight, so let's not fight, baby."
"Yes, yes."
Honestly? He will agree to anything right now because of how good he feels. Just how close he is, and he can feel it, taste it, and even touch it.
