Quibble

Tim stilled his hips and tried to hold a straight face as Rob growled at
the sudden change in pace.

"Jesus, Tim-"

Braced on his arms, Tim gave in and grinned as he felt Rob's legs
tighten around him, heels digging into his backside as he was urged to
don't. bloody. stop.

"About that new surfboard..?"

Rob's eyes quickly focussed and he shot an incredulous look at the man.
"You want to talk about surfing? Now??"

Tim's lips twitched and he shrugged as well as able in that position, "I
like surfing. It's a really good board."

Panting, Rob reached up and clasped the back of Tim's neck, forcing his
partner to lower himself. Locked chest to chest, Tim felt Rob suddenly
made quite the compelling argument.

"If you dare stop or mention that damn board in the next 10 minutes, I
promise I'll leather your cheeky arse."

Well, who could quibble with that?

Moments later, Rob landed a sharp slap on the brat's bum and his body
shook with laughter as he recognised the tune Tim was humming.

Beach Boys medley. Bloody man.