It's a good thing too, because, in Gabriel's case, R isn't really asking permission from him. The physical stuff is easy and natural- it's the emotional shit that he's terrible at.

"Sounds perfect," he smiles back just as mischievously as he grabs a roll off the table. "As perfect as we can get anyway. Sooo, what's for dinner?" Leaning into Gabe under the not-even-vaguely-disgused excuse of looking at the menu between them.