[That's his cue, when Aventurine starts to shift in his lap, to snake an arm around his hips and pull him flush against his own body — like it's an offer of friction, or maybe just a temptation to chase it, should Aventurine find himself willing to risk stealing a little bit of surreptitious grinding without anyone around catching on.

It's easier for Rufus to keep his own movements concealed, with the benefit of the couch blocking him and the fact that he's the one underneath rather than on top; it's subtle yet sinuous, the way he rolls his hips shallowly into Aventurine's in smooth, slow movements, as if to encourage that interest in the other man's slacks to continue growing.]

I'm not scared you'll run. You've got plenty of reasons to stay.

[Or one big reason, at least, though he's not quite so crass as to frame it like that.]

No, running isn't the sort of "getting off" I have in mind for you at all.