I mean - I ain't gonna be no one's fantasy, dude. Besides, they don't gotta - don't gotta know nothing.

[It's plain that he's trying not to chase after Rye's touch, to dubious success; he trembles, hips remaining in place only until that finger catches the spot under the head and circles the tip, at which point his breath stutters in his throat and his hips rock forward again]

That's - god, that's good. I want you to keep doing that till I can't stand it no more, but at the same time I want you to just - just go for it already.

[The flush has reached his ears, by now. He looks like he'd like the floor to swallow him up, actually]