One of his buttons popped off, which was — probably going to be a little annoying later, like the brandy on the floor, but right now it was kind of a turn-on. And Valerian was impatient, too, and that was also a turn-on. This wasn't how he'd anticipated his night going, but he certainly wasn't complaining. He pressed his hand more firmly against Valerian. If Art had any doubts about Valerian wanting this — (he didn't) — then the feeling of him through his trousers would have chased them away, and he shifted closer on the mattress, trying to angle them so that they were both more solidly on the bed.

More deftly than his cousin had, although it was still hard to manage among all the sensations he was experiencing, Art worked to unbutton Valerian's shirt. If they were going to keep going — and it seemed clear that Valerian wanted them to keep going, and Arthur did too — then they were going to need fewer clothes. He pulled at the cloth of the shirt as he went, hoping to get it off sooner, and bit down gently on Valerian's lower lip.

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