A part of him wants to protest what he's just said, claim he isn't ready yet to care about someone this much, but it's not as if he has any control over it. And if he examines what he feels, really pays attention to the nuance of it, Marcus thinks he is ready. It's perhaps quicker than he might have ever imagined for himself, especially since he'd been rather settled in the idea of being alone, but quick doesn't make it any less real.

This is where they are. It's who they are. All he has to do now is be grateful for it and resist any of his awful instincts to screw it up when it gets deeper.

He's still half dressed, even as he settled between Dan's thighs and he presses his hips down, eagerly waiting for the hand that's sliding down toward the waist of his jeans. He kisses Dan's jaw, then his throat, nipping lightly at the skin there. He debates leaving a mark, then decides to wait until the next time, until they've had a little practice at this before he starts leaving reminders for Dan littered across his body. His teeth drag along Dan's throat toward his shoulder and his hips roll again, seeking the pressure from that hand.