Burr likes the kissing. Likes more the greedy hands the drag him over the center console. It's a good thing he's so slight, that he can fit here, back to the driver's window, and open his mouth to Thomas's attentions.

He can't get off like this, in the confines of too-tight jeans, working against Jefferson's palm. He doesn't want to, though he does let himself relax against the other man. He likes the warmth, the feeling of him, warm through layers.

There's something about it. Something appealing, in reducing Thomas to this whole Burr himself remains still hard. It seems more like a favor, more like he's giving Thomas something, instead of Thomas taking. He tucks his head into the crook of Thomas's neck, breathes in.