The feeling of Daryl moving over him, the way he fits between Theon's thighs, makes his breath get a little shaky, his eyes get darker. He fists one hand in Daryl's shirt, slides the other to the base of his skull, and drags him forward further still.

"Want you," he breathes, leaning up just enough to brush their mouths together as he speaks. "Want you to touch me more. Want to touch you too."