Anything Kavinsky might have said to that, affirmative and encouraging or maybe some smart ass retort, got swallowed up in a soft, needy noise. He squirmed between Newt's hands, a subtle but filthy movement. The head of his cock was already starting to drip. The sink was a little high, but he lifted his knee up to rest on the edge of the counter, shivering.

"Fuck, sugar."