Beth thinks she's probably more impatient than Jason, reaching down to help him, kicking her pants off the rest of the way. They land somewhere on the floor, but she's not worrying about that now, she's focused entirely on Jason, on the way his skin feels under her hands, how warm he is pressed up against her. They're both barely dressed now, just that final last layer between them and when she presses up, when she rolls her hips against him, she can feel him right there.

"Jason," she breathes, her hands sliding down, fingertips teasing along the waist of the fabric. She wants those off, too, she wants all the layers off that are between them, but she doesn't want him to feel like she's rushing him.