Goodnight almost forgot what he was doing when he saw the look on Billy's face. He smiled back at him and left the bottle within easy reach; right now he was much more interested in kissing Billy again, like he might taste different if Goodnight kissed him after that smile.

He pressed him to the bed, wanting to feel closer. Goodnight fumbled for the bottle, breaking the kiss just long enough to see what he was doing as he got some on his palm, his fingers. He knew, possibly from experience, that this particular oil was not at all offensive if one had cause to ingest it. But for now he settled for stroking Billy's cock, slow but intent as he tried to learn just what he liked, what caused his breath to catch or his hips to move.