Bishop can feel how careful Sawyer is being; like he’s walking a narrow line acting as a tripwire. He takes a breath and tips his head back a little into the hands in his hair and slouches further on the couch.

His hands massage little circles around the others hips and slip once more up under his shirt. Dancing over the bruises he knows are there he feels along his ribs and up higher, drawing down again as he leans into another kiss. He wants the taste of him, forever. It’s sweeter than anything else he’d ever tasted and he was finding he had quite the sweet tooth.

“I like everything you’re doing, don’t worry.”