The sheets of Mikkel's bed were cool against Quinn's bare back, inviting and invigorating. Chin tilted up, Quinn stared down the length of his own body as Mikkel acquiesced, stripping himself of his shirt and letting it fall away, discarded, unimportant. Like Quinn, Mikkel was healthy and trim without the need for an overly chiseled abdomen. A flat stomach, attractive chest, and long, toned arms extending from nicely rounded shoulders. Simply put, he was stunning, and Quinn felt his entire form consumed by an unfamiliar need to feel Mikkel<i>everywhere</i>. Were he not drunk on testosterone, Quinn might have been more critical as to the mysterious power the surgeon seemed to hold over him, this bizarre sexual witchcraft, but he could hardly find it within himself to care about such oddities now.<br/><br/>Lips against him again, careful and predatory, tasting the need on Quinn's mouth. His lips were red and swollen, wet with a sweet mixture of Mikkel's and his saliva. Hips bucked up as the man above him began to unfasten his belt, and then the button and zipper of his slim trousers, partially alleviating the pressure against his trapped erection. The young man sighed appreciatively, nodding and smiling in response to Mikkel's question. "How did you know?" he quipped, furrowing his brow playfully as a hand crept beneath the sleek fabric and pressed against against his length. Quinn briefly wondered if Mikkel could feel him throbbing now that their skin was separated only by the thin layer of cotton briefs.<br/><br/>"Ask you?" Quinn repeated, arched brow raised curiously. The young man chuckled briefly, slowly shaking his head, long dark hair splayed out behind him on Mikkel's too-comfortable bed. "Are you suggesting I ask you politely, like a sweet little boy asking daddy for an extra scoop of ice cream, or that I beg, like a junkie jonesing for a hit?" Quinn smiled, folding his hands underneath his head as he stared up, admiring the view. "Don't misunderstand me, Mikkel," Quinn purred, eyes heavily lidded, voice dripping with sensuality as his gaze danced along Mikkel's body back up to that hauntingly handsome face. "I may suggest and imply what I want, but I see no reason to ask for it when it's painfully obvious we want the same thing."<br/><br/>A long, slender leg lifted, wrapping itself around the doctor's waist. Suggestive, demanding. "I see no harm in<i>telling</i>you what I want, however." Another leg, interlocking with the other, squeezing.<br/><br/>"Fuck me."