[Unlike past exchanges where Cy remained dressed while he was naked, here Sasuke wants to feel the frictive intimacy of skin on skin — shedding his own clothing with less care and more urgency, a strip that is all economical movement made of toned muscle. The enticement is met with a kiss, pleased even as Cy calls him a brat, palm lifted to accept a liberal squeeze of lubricant.]

I'll do some, at least. I want to feel you on my fingers.

[The direct words are meaningful in their intensity — because while this may be happening in a complex mental illusion, there is newness to it, sanctity in the indulgence of such pleasure where before only pain and fear and violence had existed.]

Sit on my lap. It's harder for me to balance when I'm above you. [Once he doesn't need his hand, it'll be easier, but for now he sits back, mismatched eyes watching Cy with undisguised heat.] ... And kiss me.