[GOOD JOB CLAY'S SO PROUD. Well, more like he's turned on just from that. He takes in a breath, fingers curling into Allen's shirt, then presses kisses against the exposed jawline and the skin just beneath it. Feeling Allen shiver, hearing his breathing hitch and talking dirty in return - god, it's so hot.]

Mmhmm. I'm gonna make you see stars.

[You can't take the space out of the spaceman. His fingers trail lower, teasing the edge of Allen's shirt and brushing against the skin just above the waistline of his pants.]

Or you can do it to me. Me below you, clutching your back, moaning your name... Whatever we want. The night's ours.