Summer could /feel/ himself rising, swelling — hardening. He closed his eyes, blindly seeking Isaac’s mouth again, and kissed the werewolf harder, fingers digging into his wrist. He wanted more of that feeling. Lightly, he murmured, “You’re wearing too much,” and ground against him, gasping.
He moaned with ever increasing delight into the kiss, body shifting against the other’s before pulling back with some reluctance. “O-okay…” He panted out harshly, chest rising and falling as he fumbled with his shirt, tugging it up over his head to ruffle up his curls.
He reached out to pull their bodies close again, hands running over the exposed skin. “Isaac, how do you even control this?” he mumbled, hips shifting against the other boy’s jeans. Was it just because the alteration was so recent, or did boys always live in this state of potential arousal? He grabbed Isaac’s wrist again, dragging the werewolf’s hand to his cock.