"Must've been good," Barry manages, surprised to hear how graveled his voice has become so quickly, but Derek's mouth is like a furnace against his nape, and Barry's toes curl against the blanket. There's no finding purchase with Derek's weight on him, but Barry still shifts, intent on finding a way to tease back. He can feel the rough denim of Derek's jeans where they frame his hips, his own boxers already riding high, and all Barry wants is for them to be off but just now he'll settle for rocking upwards. He can't move far, but the barest pantomime of sex is all it takes for heat to drop low in his belly.

"Should've taken a picture so I could remember for next time," he pants.