I could fix that. The pen's still around here somewhere.

[He smirks, rubbing his thumb against the elegant fabric of Adrian's top before beginning to work it open.]

Could write my name on your ass. Claim that as mine.

[Bit by bit, he gets Adrian's shirt unfastened, then gently pushes it off his shoulders to let gravity do the rest of the work for him. As it does, he reaches down and palms boldly against the front of Adrian's pants, feeling the shape of his cock though the fabric.]

Maybe this too.