"You're not my first," John instantly informed him, because his pride was at stake, or something like it. Still, he coloured a little when he realised just how ridiculous he sounded, and mentally counted through the numbers in his head: "....Third, though, I think," he acknowledged. "I'm typically trying to be the big bad top making the poor bottom beg for it, so I suddenly know what it feels like for the poor bastard I'm teasing."

And while that reflection was honest, and brought with it a rueful grin, John did feel like all those guys he'd taunted or teased or reduced to mewling messes, because holy fuck did he need Bobby Drake's cock.