Kavinsky shrugged a little. His boundaries were where they'd always been--permission from both sides, no lasting marks, check in before anyone stayed over. He didn't know, really, how to make this different than what it had been.

But something ripped in Kavinsky's chest. Boldly, he said, "I'd like to see you. It doesn't have to be dating, we don't have to call it that or whatever. But I want this to be something else besides us hanging out, with a side dose of needing to get off."

A side dose of Jack needing to get off. Kavinsky didn't say that, because of course he got off when they fucked. He shrugged a little.