[It occurs to him, vaguely, that Adrian isn't getting any less slick, even after having what was to all appearances a pretty satisfying orgasm. They're not done, not by a longshot. And he has to remember, has to keep reminding himself, that Adrian won't let himself want. Adrian is afraid of taking too much, so he'll tell himself to just be happy with whatever he gets, whether it's really enough or not.

The Sanguis in him chafes at the thought. This is his Iris, his little bat. He shouldn't want for anything. He should be happy. He should be purring; he'd purred the last time, sort of, and it felt amazing to know that he was responsible for it. He wants him to be happy, he wants so much for him to be happy —

And all of a sudden, he remembers. That's — that feeling, that's almost definitely how Adrian feels, too. About him, all the time, because of the vampire side of him. He remembers how sweetly Adrian always touches his hair, how pleased he'd looked when he'd said the food was good. How much he'd wanted to draw him a bath and make him comfortable and spoil him.

Oh.

This is what it's like for Adrian all the time.

...Oh.]

You, um. You've done this before...right. So you know the things you like?

[Done this with a partner, he realizes belatedly that he should've clarified, but the moment is gone too quick to remedy it.]

Do that to me. What you like, I want to feel that. Whatever you think feels best, that's what I want you to do to me.