Jiang only goes about a step off. He bites his lip and scrapes his gaze over Proko, head to toe and back, drinking him in. He tugs at his pants a little.
"Bent over the bench," he breathes, half a question. He palms himself through his jeans. "Like some sort of fuckin' porno shit."
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"Bent over the bench," he breathes, half a question. He palms himself through his jeans. "Like some sort of fuckin' porno shit."