It's not as if that slow grind doesn't do anything for Theon. The idea of it, that thrills him, and he knows by now that no cock doesn't mean no feeling there. Taken together, he chases the sensation, long out of practice but willing to learn again.

It's also not as if they haven't touched each other, haven't kissed and touched; one of Theon's favorite places to be is pressed against Daryl's side on this very couch, a long line of warmth and contact between them. It could have been enough, of course, more than enough, but more is very real now, and Theon wants it.

He manages an artless sort of rhythm, rocking up against Daryl, well aware of the small, needy sounds caught between them before they can become moans, the sound of their mouths together, all of it heady and hot.