And the rain kept pounding down outside, but he couldn’t hear it any more over the pounding of the blood in his ears. A kiss shouldn’t do that! But the slippery feeling of his hot wrists, bound in place with the necktie meant he couldn’t fidget his way out of it, stare down at his hands, maybe, maybe adjust his waistcoat. No, he just had … this boy… with his fingertips tracing his cheek, brushing that gentle way against his cheekbone. The other hand was rumpling his shirt, gripping it, and, and… oh he would get NO sorting done today.