[ It feels good as Quentin pulls out of him, because every movement of his cock inside Matt feels good. But when he's gone--not just shallowly fucking him, head of his cock rubbing at Matt's entrance, but gone--Matt nearly whines for him.

The actual sound he makes is a little more dignified than that, but not by much. Matt follows Quentin's coaxing to stand on wobbly legs, and immediately grabs for Quentin's hand with a breathless grin. He doesn't strictly have to lean on Quentin to get onto the bed, but it's definitely smoother with his help. Matt hums, pleased, for sit and enjoy yourself, and waits for Quentin to get where he wants to be before settling on his knees in front of him, facing the mirror.

For a moment, he focuses on positioning himself. But at Quentin's moan, Matt's head snaps to regard him, his eyes blown wide with arousal and fascination. ]

God ... [ A shaky sigh. A melting smile. ] I wanna watch you fuck me for hours, but I want to come too bad. I could wait if you told me to, but ... at this point it'd be pretty hard.

[ Somewhere between "erotic torture" and "impossible," actually, but Matt's never one to pass up a chance for understatement. ]