Later, Ky would likely get mad at Sol. He was fairly certain that marking up the other person wasn't reasonable behavior, and particularly marking them where it wasn't covered by their usual clothing. For right now, Ky wasn't thinking about any effect of Sol's teeth beyond the immediate, the way they made his blood race and spurred on the way he grasped at Sol. Ky wouldn't make the mistake of considering himself blameless for the act afterwards. Even disregarding the way he'd prodded Sol into this -- and Ky wasn't ready to disregard that -- there remained the fact that thoughts of this had kept him awake some nights, had surfaced during showers no matter how cold the water ran.

Ky's response to Sol's roll of the hips was an unabashed moan that he didn't even try to quiet or hold in. It wasn't as though Sol could doubt his enthusiasm, certainly not by this point, and in addition to not seeing any particular advantage to keeping quiet, Ky was also fairly certain that he wouldn't be able to manage that. Sol's hand against his leg was a firm argument that Ky was wearing much too much clothing, a problem that would have to be solved sooner or later.

"We should go elsewhere," Ky suggested, around breaths that came half in breathy little gasps. "Somewhere private." Somewhere he could undress Sol and look at him, could drag him to a bed and touch every inch of him.