Liam had those dreams too, of love and a family, kids and a dog and maybe a cat or two. A small house with enough of a yard to play in. He'd had to put them away, wrapped carefully in tissue paper and stored like heirloom china, in the crawlspace of his mind.

He let himself be shifted upwards, no arguments at all with what those hands were doing. His stomach caved, ticklish but hot, a molten pressure pooling as those lips played at his navel. Oh. That was not fair, Riley looking at him like that.

"Now," he agreed, fingertips catching beneath Riley's chin. "You look good in them, but I am convinced you'll look even better out of them."