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    Summary

    “Sir, what are you doing,” Lance objected, trying to shield himself to no avail.

    “Relax, pumpkin,” Tex soothed, his voice like molasses. “How does he touch you?” Tex leaned forward, planting a trail of kisses along the crease of his thigh and torso. Lance gasped at the feeling of Tex’s scruff against the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, and the older man let out a warm puff of laughter at his reaction.

    “Has he ever put his mouth down here?” Tex asked, meeting Lance’s teary-eyed gaze from under his thick lashes. Lance wet his lips before jerkily shaking his head no.

    “Good,” Tex replied shortly before dipping forward.

    -------

    Tex arrives home from work to see Lance sleeping on his sofa, waiting for Keith. Smut ensues.

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