[He nods, unseen, like he's still imagining Cy in the room with him—but then his assent comes verbally after he realizes. Pineapple and kiwi, absurd as they are, stick in his mind better for it. He doesn't think he'll use them, but now he's beginning to comprehend their whole point. An exit. A way out, if needed. It's strange to have, and there's a part of his mind unconsciously distrustful of it. But it's fine. This much, he can manage.

More lube. The messiest smear yet with gel dripping to the towel, rubbed over the blunt, shiny-purple head of the toy before he presses it against the rim of his hole.]

I'm holding it. It's, hah, a little cold from the lubricant. Wet. Sticky because there's so much. I'm going to put it in. Cy—

[—and there, an inexorable slide, dildo breaching that tight ring of muscle and burying itself deep inside his ass all at once. He can't speak in that instant because the sound that leaves him is high, shattered, an outcry as he's never made between them. Breathe, Cy told him, but it's difficult; he tries and it sounds like he's gasping across the voice call. A dry-sob noise that tapers into quivering inhalations.

His hand is shaking on the hilt of the toy.]

It's... burning—it aches so much, this dull feeling. [The words are glassy, unsteady between breaths.] It feels like a wound, but it's inside of my body. I've never felt it there before.