"I found myself with more reason than I'd expected," he says, feeling a bit of gravel in his throat, "to see how I would like it. If I would."

Part of him had expected to feel like less of a man, being rubbed between his legs like this; he finds now that it's a bare brushstroke of a thought, easily sent on it's way. He dares to press up into the touch, his breathing growing a little ragged. "I can," he says, "not-- not always but this is so much, it's you." Surging forward, he seeks Daryl's mouth with his own.