Oh my God. [Nate snorts, shifting up.] If you say "they're both rock-hard" I'm going to leave you alone in here.

[He's close enough now that Rafe can hook his arms around Nate's thighs, close enough that undoing his belt will be careful in the event that the buckle accidentally whacks Rafe in the face.

Nate cards the fingers of one hand through Rafe's hair, pushing it out of his eyes.]

It's not like a week off from straining yourself would kill you.