Eggsy isn't sure how to take Quentin's response, but it doesn't really matter. It's not like he needs Quentin to fuck him. He's just used to these weird encounters with strangers turning into that, so it's become an expectation.

Eggsy makes an almost startled noise, more because the sound of the blow is surprising, even if the sensation itself almost isn't. This is a weird way to feel things. He knows it's fake, maybe faker than the dream things in some sense. Someday maybe he'll learn what that crop feels like on his real skin and look back on this and find it strange.

For now, it's still pretty hot, even if he's reluctant to admit that to himself.

"Fuck."