[He presses his lips together, half-glancing over his shoulder. This is what Ed wants, he tells himself. What he needs. And to Oswald, it's the answer to a question he never thought to ask before tonight. But he's never felt a fever-heat like this, either, simmering under his skin, or the bold, fierce desire to share everything there is to share until they've all fucked out, sluggish and exhausted. Lying on top of Ed, his head spinning even while at his stillest, nothing seems too unthinkable, too impossible.
He shakes his head.]
...To hell with it.
[He shrugs a shoulder, giving a chuckle, a helpless, crooked little smile.] I mean, we've made it this far, didn't we?
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He shakes his head.]
...To hell with it.
[He shrugs a shoulder, giving a chuckle, a helpless, crooked little smile.] I mean, we've made it this far, didn't we?