Work Text:
they're drunk, making out on the couch, tongues down each others throats, its getting pretty heated. the hand on Gordon's knee shifts, now just barely touching, moving up and in, following the seam. Gordon's been half hard most of the time, able to hide it from Barney at least a little. but that does it.
That single pinpoint of motion on his thigh, hot like a laser, it moves up, hand flattening once again, warm and waiting. It massages the meat right up in his groin. he knows Barney can tell now, can feel the heat radiating from the recent blood flow, can feel the tension in the fabric of his jeans.
The hand dips into the crease of his crotch, testing, teasing . . . torturing. Oh god, hes doomed isn't he? Drunk and starved of any human love, he can feel himself getting closer, cant hold back. Please!
The hand grips his dick and hes gone with a couple of measly tugs. Their faces dislodge, gasping
and panting, eye contact, red hot, blushing skin, toothy grin, raised eyebrows. Really? Yeah, obviously he wasn't gonna say it, it was rhetorical. Of course he did.