"Good," he whispers against the other man's mouth, undoing his own fly impatiently. It's never enough, the hands, the fumbling, the rush of fucking somewhere so very public. Yet he keeps doing this, taking stupid risks for attractive men in idiotic situations. Demetri knows he even has a condom on him, kept ostensibly for encounters with the one man he should be doing this with, the one man who's not in this stall with him.