He meets the kiss and swears he can taste the heat on his tongue. It swirls in his mouth and burns all the way down into his belly, lighting him up with like it’s a bonfire.

Now he has to figure out logistics. Goddamn it. But he wants what he wants, in his kisses and touches and that glint of mischief in his eyes that Rama wants it just as badly, and so he needs to follow through. His body is never going to be more ready to please and keep up with Rama than it is now. He pulls himself away, his swollen lips beckoning and inviting him for another quick kiss against his better judgement.

But he finally does move away, having considered what they might need. Some kind of oil? Or grease? Christ, that doesn’t sound pleasant at all, but he needs to be confident here. He’d asked for this, after all.

Well. Does he? Does he really have to be confident and self-assured?

“I’ve never done this,” he laughs quietly, brushing his fingers across Ram’s abdomen fondly. “I think we’ll need oil to ease things. Something from the kitchen or washroom?”