( it is different -- he isn't drunk this time, mainly, he's in charge of what he's doing. he knows what he's taking from harrison, pining him back and sucking on his lips, the familiar odd vibration of pent up emotion pressed in against him, more than a little wanton in this particular circumstance. teeth find harrison's flesh lower lip and bite him softly, eagerly, demanding something that he can't name, that he doesn't let them put words to yet. he just does, feeling it out, laying palms flat on the points of harrison's slender hips, and pushing his shirt just fractions of an inch higher, making his intent clear. )
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