It actually hadn't occurred to Eggsy to wonder what was going on physically outside the VR. He sure as fuck hopes he's not talking out loud, or making any kind of noise out loud. He didn't remember hearing anyone else do that, but he hadn't exactly watched the demonstrations before he'd gotten roped into this.
It wouldn't be the worst thing to ever happen, but he doesn't like the idea at all anyway.
In the end, it doesn't matter much. He can't hold on to thoughts of what's going outside this fake world with Quentin's hands on and in him.
He makes a noise that's almost a protest at Quentin's words, when they actually sink in. He's been called a lot of shit in his life, but despite the nature of the city, he's avoided things like slut and whore and he is entirely unsure what to do with it. He wants to get mad about it, indignant, offer protest.
He can't seem to get there.
"Fuck," he says instead, predictably, and that just starts a stream of nonsense that's mostly "fuck" repeated again as he pushes himself a little more urgently against Quentin's finger pressing into him.
no subject
It wouldn't be the worst thing to ever happen, but he doesn't like the idea at all anyway.
In the end, it doesn't matter much. He can't hold on to thoughts of what's going outside this fake world with Quentin's hands on and in him.
He makes a noise that's almost a protest at Quentin's words, when they actually sink in. He's been called a lot of shit in his life, but despite the nature of the city, he's avoided things like slut and whore and he is entirely unsure what to do with it. He wants to get mad about it, indignant, offer protest.
He can't seem to get there.
"Fuck," he says instead, predictably, and that just starts a stream of nonsense that's mostly "fuck" repeated again as he pushes himself a little more urgently against Quentin's finger pressing into him.