Terminally into you

Vice was perhaps too excited about Ivo's haircut. He got up from between Davi's legs as soon as he was done spreading the bleach evenly. 

"Sit down," he gestured towards the spot he had just vacated, "I'll be your style consultant."

Davi shot him a wry look. "I don't remember agreeing to anything for you to consult in."

Ivo shuffled between Davi's thighs, making himself comfortable in the space between his knees. He rubbed lightly at the furred skin above his left knee, tilting his neck back to give Davi an upside down smirk. "Don't you want to make me pretty?"

Alina wolf-whistled from the other side of the sofa. Vice sniggered and ran his fingers over Ivo's hair, twisting them between the soft locks. 

"Don't go too short. Leave it long enough to pull when I fuck him from behind," he said.

His words sent a flicker of heat licking down Ivo's spine. He'd missed this.