Oh fuck you, you know that was better than an eight.

( nick tries to sound offended, fails miserably, and instead just smothers his grin into oliver's thigh. he nudged his nose into his inner leg there, delivers one quick, sharp bite with teeth so that there's a little ring of indents around the hickey he'd already left, and then nick flops back, apparently satisfied.

the questions doesn't really surprise nick, he just--doesn't have an answer ready. the focus had been on oliver, on getting him off — and maybe, just a little, on distracting him if he's really honest. he's vaguely interested because giving head gets him hot regardless, and nick drops a hand to palm over himself, feel out that stirring interest in his cock. )

Oh, I don't know. Maybe you can just eat me out until you recover. See if I can't come before that happens too.

( all casual again, like he'd said before--"thoughts?"--like nick's voice isn't a little hoarse with the efforts of deep-throating. )