"I don't think either of our sexualities really matter here, do they?"

He trails the crop down Eggsy's body, a very slight pressure. Quentin doesn't think of himself as anything, really. It tends to be convenience over form, a primordial longing for companionship, however brief. Eggsy is here, and that's what matters, but it could have been anyone.

It helps that Eggsy is letting himself be easy to read.

"Besides," he says with some consideration. The tongue of the crop brushes against Eggsy's cock. "I'm pretty sure I could give you tits right now, if it really bothered me."