"Fuck," the word slips out of his mouth, barely audible, at the sight of Rat licking his lips. He feels as though he's made of the ether of clouds, light and drifting in pleasure.

The weight of the man's erection against his thigh grounds him again; his head cleared a bit, he leans up to kiss Rat, slow, greedy - deliberate and hungry. He tastes himself on the other man's tongue which feels strange, at first. But Marius ignores the strangeness for the certainty of the kiss, the pressing of their lips together. He drags one hand down Rat's chest, fingers digging into his skin a bit before reaching his erection, still clothed.

He starts to stroke him, trying to copy the other man's movements and pace. He wants to bring him as much pleasure as he bestowed upon him. He wants to hear what kind of noises he makes; see what he looks like when he comes undone.