The kiss Jim gave him was the one he'd been holding back. Hot, deep, claiming. Conscious thought was gone. All he could do was act, and his actions said to kiss, to touch, to move with how Steve's hips moved and God it was so good. His pulse was thundering in his ears and that was just fine. Confirmation that this was real.

His hand slid from Steve's waist, up and over his chest and half-dragging the shirt with it, up to the side of his neck, into his hair, and down, following that same trail until he was kneading Steve's thigh, half-pulling until Steve's knee was hooked over his hip.