Timmy had been brought up a good Catholic boy. Good enough that he had seriously considered the priesthood and could do a good line in disapproval and guilt trips when Don needed it. While he had completely and enthusiastically come to terms with the difference of opinion he had with the church on the subject of homosexuality, and had practiced until in Don's mind he had got damn good at it, he still tended to cling to the teaching on masturbation. Or, more accurately, not. When pressed he would admit to moments of weakness when Don was away on a long case but that was all.
Of course it was a totally different matter if Don was there and watching. Then he would stretch out naked on the bed as if he was the embodiment of original sin. Long fingers exploring his own body as if it were virgin territory, each touch an act of self-seduction. But when he took himself in hand it was with the firm and sure grip of an experienced lover. Don was never sure who appreciated the touch more; Timmy feeling it or himself seeing it. There was certainly something about the wonderfully illicit nature, because this was Timmy after all, that made his cock jump and his breath catch. And when Timmy began to move, up and down in the slow, slick, teasing way... nothing like the way he normally worked Don or the way Don jacked himself. The display always made Don growl which always made Timmy smile.
It was one of Don's personal rules that he didn't touch himself when they did this although when he had made that rule he hadn't realised quite how long Timmy could draw things out if he felt inclined. Long luxurious, unhurried strokes; as mesmerising as a hypnotist's pendulum.
When Tim finally had mercy on both of them, he came with a small moan that always sounded to Don like a wordless prayer of thanks to the Almighty. Don hoped any deity watching enjoyed the show as much as he did. For some reason that soft sound always tempered his arousal not matter how achingly desperate he had been the moment before. It always seemed more important to take Tim in his arms and exchange deep, somnolent kisses. That was love; Timmy exhausted and spent and Don, hard, wanting and not caring.
Where they went from there dependent on their feelings on any given day but it was the journey to that point with was important. There was definitely something to be said for a good Jesuit upbringing, especially on those occasions it was disregarded.