"Ohh, yes," Azwel breathes, "I certainly am." His hands slip into Vash's hair, warm against his scalp, before slowly sliding down his neck. They move over his shoulders before one drops to move along Vash's side, palm and fingers pressed gently against the skin, and the other draws light fingers down his spine. He arches slightly into those lips on his nipple, breath catching, and his fingers curl, dragging short fingernails along Vash's back and leaving little pink lines.

He moans softly, dreamily, that fervid need now completely melted into hot, liquid desire, gentle and sensuous. He can only hope that this is even half as good for Vash as it is for him, and he slides his hands over places he knows the other likes to be touched. A small, pointy thought rolls around in his mind, giving him tiny pokes that he needs to make this as good for Vash as he can. To that end, one hand pats blindly about, looking for the lube.

"Mmmm, so much better now we can touch each other properly," he whispers, a slight smile on his face. He has no idea how he's able to string that many words together, but there they are. Maybe it's the slow, languid pace. Maybe it was just that important to him to say it.