Norrington crouched like a dog, whimpering. His brown hair, loose and sultry with the humidity, fluttered over eyes that were squeezed shut with each thrust of Beckett from behind.
James was thoroughly enjoying himself and when Cutler eased over him so that his chest covered his back and he was able to link their fingers Norrington made his first mistake.
He leaned his head over and pressed his lips to the back of Cutler's hand. Beckett jumped back as if bitten and cracked James on the back of his head with his kissed hand. Norrington yelped.
"I told you no kissing!" Beckett hissed.
"But I did not kiss you! Not on the lips!" James whined in his own defense.
"No kissing. Not ever. Not anywhere!" Cutler fairly screamed at him, distressed and disgusted, rubbing the spot on his hand where James had pressed his petal soft lips.
"Where are you going?" Norrington asked as Beckett vacated the bed to grab his dressing gown off the chair and fling himself into it. James received his answer in the form of a slamming door as Cutler fled to his own chamber and left him aching and confused.
