Intimacy was the word. Richard's back arched at the second thrust, but he smiled, at the rightness of it. In a little bit, he'd not have the presence of mind to do that, or to raise a hand and stroke the delicate features of the man above him, but he could do it now. He could let his eyes feast on the fact that Alec was relaxing, even as got more intent, more focused. Pulled away from what he'd lived through for too long and into this moment, into the two of them. (Those spare moments of peace for him.)

The next time Alec pulled out, Richard shifted his hips enough to meet the thrust in. Not urging for faster (yet), but giving, as well as taking.

His thumb ran down the pulse at the side of Alec's throat, and then over the the angly shoulder. Thinking what manner of marks he could leave on the pale skin, in moments when they are to tightly tangled to stop themselves, and too far gone to want to stop each other. Soon, his own skin prickled with anticipation.