Luke barely moved, and then he felt what was hardening in Eddy's lap.  It made him squirm, a spark going down his spine to his own groin, and he smiled with pleasure-filled surprise to know Eddy didn't just want him to spend the night, but to<i>spend the night</i>...  More kisses, trailing down, down, down, and Luke flattened his hand against Eddy's chest to ground himself as the man's mouth pressed into the vulnerable curve of his neck.<br/><br/>Then those strong hands found their spots on his hips, curved like they were carved in place; they had left marks, red turned to purple to faded blues and greens until they'd disappeared entirely.  Luke had missed Eddy's thick fingers, his calloused palms...  Eddy might not be able to feel him entirely, but Luke could feel<i>everything</i>.<br/><br/>"Babydoll...?  Is that my nickname now...?"  The question was teasing, betrayed how much he liked being called that, how the word rumbled from Eddy's throat.  So rich, so musical in its deep brass tones, they made his heart skip.<br/><br/>"What should I call you...?"  Luke hummed again, the sound reverberating against Eddy's lips, pressed so wonderfully on his skin, and his hand slid a little further down Eddy's stomach to rest over where he imagined the tattooed crest was.  Oh, he'd love to look at them all again, to kiss each bit of color...