Anything else Theon might have had to say evaporates from his mind then, one of Daryl's hands on his face and the other between his thighs. His heart beats hard in his throat, but he's always moving to offer better access, groaning at the sensation. The sight, too, arouses him in a way he hadn't expected; seeing Daryl's hand where Theon's cock should be, big and just rough enough. Whatever he is now, it's his own body, and he likes the way it looks with Daryl's fingers stroking against soft skin, the edges of scars.

"It doesn't hurt," he says, turning his face just enough to scrape his teeth on Daryl's fingers. "It feels good. There's still, ah, something that feels good there."