A/N: Just a warning - this fic could be considered T+ or even M rated. I'm not exactly sure, but here's the warning for you!
The standard "movie night" devolves into standard "movie night" activities. Jason is shirtless and pressing kisses to Leo's neck, and Leo's shirt is shoved up around his chest as Jason's hands dance up and down his smooth stomach.
That's the weird thing about Leo, Jason can't help but think. He's so SOFT. You'd think a guy with building and mechanic skills would be all rough around the edges and firm grips and deep, throaty grumbling groans, but that, well. That's not Leo.
Leo is smooth skin and talented, graceful, long fingers and gentle hair pulling and soft, breathy "ohs" that escape from him involuntarily.
So Jason mentions it. "Hey," he says, a bit out of breath, "Leo, should your hands be this soft?"
Leo slowly blinks his eyes open. That's another thing about him. He takes a while to come out of whatever trance he is in when he's with Jason, like Jason can pull him into a different mindset. In short, Leo usually is so blissed out that it takes him a few minutes to speak in full sentences again. "Something wrong with my hands?" he murmurs.
Jason laughs lightly, his head dipping to Leo's chest. "Not wrong, just...You're really soft."
"It's the fire," says Leo, shrugging, "it burnt all the roughness and stuff out of me ages ago. Not sure why."
"It's - I like it," says Jason, his words blurred a bit as he dips back in to mark kisses along Leo's collarbone, down his sternum, to nip love bites into the hollows near his hips.
"That's good," says Leo, "because I always wanted to hear that you're only here for my body."
Jason nips a bit hard at the skin of Leo's hips, and Leo jumps a bit. Both laugh. "Okay, okay, I get it," says Leo, his words coming out as breathy gasps. "Just - don't stop."
"Never will," says Jason, and he wonders if they're talking about the same thing. They lock eyes briefly, and Jason suddenly knows they are.