As John finally surrenders his self-restraint, Bob can feel his own dragged closer to the edge. He'd taken to biting down hard on his own lip to try and stem the oncoming inevitability of what they're doing, breathing quick and sweat clinging to his chest and back.

With the other man bucking up under him, his hands release the edge of the mattress and grip at John's hips instead, pulling upward just enough so he's got a better angle to finish both hard and strong.

Gasping as he finally lets go, his hips snap forward, eyes catching John's briefly before they're sliding shut. Bowing his head as he comes back down from the high, his arms finally give out and he pitches forward, mindless (or just not giving a fuck) of the mess between them. It's not his mess but he's too boneless to care. Fighting to get his breathing back under control, he tilts his head to glance up at the other man and grins tiredly, breathlessly announcing:

"Favourite type of cardio."