[Well that gets a response. The sensation is indescribably strange, warm and wet and tight and utterly inhuman, it drags a sharp groan out from the back of Rhys's throat, and his whole body bucks at the contact--]
F--Fuck, what-- what is that?
[His free hand goes to clutch blindly at Betelgeuse's shoulder, misses his shirt, and ends up clutching one of those stray suspenders, like it's the reigns of a horse that he's hoping to get back under control.]
no subject
F--Fuck, what-- what is that?
[His free hand goes to clutch blindly at Betelgeuse's shoulder, misses his shirt, and ends up clutching one of those stray suspenders, like it's the reigns of a horse that he's hoping to get back under control.]