Burr doesn't mean to wiggle his hips, doesn't realize he is really doing much of anything, until Laurens' hands clamp down, white knuckled on his hips, and Burr has to pull his head back and open his eyes to see the tortured look on his face.

"Oh," Burr breathes, "apologies." But neither of them stop, once Burr's wiggling ceases, and Laurens continues his attentions until Burr sighs comfortably, nipple falling from Laurens' mouth, flushed and pink, as Burr lays his head on his shoulder, nose inches from his scent gland.

"I miss Alexander," he says. "I thought he would be back by now."