[He makes a soft sound at the back of his throat, when Rye presses a hand against the bulge in his bodysuit - rocks forward, pressing into it, the motion of his hips causing a slow drag of friction]

[He shudders at Rye's instruction; his eyes dart out over the rest of the people in the game tower, fuzzy and indistinct in the way of dreams, and his flush deepens, reaching all the way to his ears]

What, like - everything?