"Good--good, good, good--" He braces Stephen to him with one arm, with the hand not sloughing cum away from his skin and into the sink. The bright noise of him simmers in Quentin's ears, sends his knuckles sparkling with blue zadza. He's hard at Stephen's back but slow, careful as he pries the hand off his hip and nudge Stephen around. "There you go. Better? Lemme see--" Show him that it's help, let him see your hands.