Chris gave a tired sound that was nearly a whimper in response to the other man's continued teasing of overstimulated flesh, his hands falling from Blonsky's shoulders like dead weight back onto the mattress. He felt boneless, moldable.

His eyes were still dark with arousal, quick mind rendered muzzy with post-orgasmic fog. What he needed to do was get up, clean himself off; he made it as far as hooking an ankle around Blonsky's leg, murmuring sleepily.