His grin sharpens, intent and hungry, and his fingers dig in harder, just skirting the edge of pain, as Monty adjusts on the bed. Then he surges up, sliding his hands down to Monty's knees and forcing them apart with an offhanded show of strength - not a hint of strain or effort, simply rearranging Monty on the bed as though they were a child's doll or plaything - tugging them around on the bed until he can slot his still clothed legs between Monty's spread ones, keeping them held apart with nothing but his own physicality, revealing everything to his hungry, avid gaze.

"Go on and struggle, Monty," he murmurs, his fingertips pressing against his calves where they are lined up against Justin's calves. "As much as you want."