Through bitten lips, Rat exhales, opens his eyes. Even in this form, he knows Marius. He knows those freckles, that quizzical expression, and how much every inch of him means to him. This is someone who, improbably, has come to love him and Rat responds with more than his body. He whines Marius' name, twists against him.

Orgasm warns at him, tipping over into a tight pulse, his body arching up to Marius and fucks himself shamelessly on his hand. He's aware of the high pitch in his voice, the intensity of sound.

"Shit," he says. 'Marius. Fuck..." He needs to kiss him, needs to touch him.