"No," Marius says, feeling his face flush bright at the admission, giggling a bit in a way he wouldn't have if he were sober. "I suppose it's rather obvious, isn't it?"

His breath catches again, at the sudden flow of words, deliberate, poised words that coil in his ears the same way tightness unfurls in his chest. He can't help but lean in closer to Rat as he speaks, wanting the words to embed in his skin. He lets out a noise somewhere between a whine and a moan, leaning up to kiss the other man's neck.

He realizes, in the way his skin trembles, that his dizziness would remain even if he were sober.

"God," is all he can manage, breathing the word against Rat's skin.