Jesse flushes dully. He looks a second away from throwing out a stupid one-liner and destroying the mood. Gabriel snaps his fingers once, sharp to get the man’s attention and murmurs: “Why don’t you move your hips for me, hm?” before Jesse can think of more than how uncomfortable the situation makes him.
McCree’s face shuts down and he turns his head away – which is a shame; Gabriel loves seeing when his boy has fun – but he does move; a slow swaying of his thick hips.
He moves slowly, tests out the waters, and when Gabriel just keeps watching, he garners some momentum and slowly lifts his arms, hands grabbing at his messy hair.
Gabriel hums low, rough, is mesmerized by the sight of Jesse’s biceps flexing; the tight shirt stretching impossibly across his shoulders and wide chest.
He dances to no music other than the soft jingling of his spurs whenever he shuffles his feet; turning slightly to let Gabriel have a better view of his broad hips; the strong profile of his thighs and the roundness of his ass.
“Magnificent,” Gabriel sighs, slipping a little lower, fiddling with a cigarette.
Jesse’s face is mostly obscured; turned away and angled towards the floor as it is – but between the strands of his messy hair he can see the sharp white grin of the man.
Seems his boy has found the merit in the task after all.
Cyberrat Writes 