[Silco could pull him away. He doesn't. He's as addicted to this as him, isn't he? That's a truth he's known ever since that meaningful tryst in the midst of his massacre, but it still somehow surprises him every time. Silco, the incorrigible, the one to never trust another in a million years, opening himself up like a flower every time he comes around.]

[He laughs, a low little exhaled noise that settles into the crux of his neck as he helps Silco with his shirt. He discards it to the side.]

Would you mind that? Haaah. I would come home, and I'd ravish you day in and day out. As much as we wanted.

[An impossibility, he knows that. Even indulging in greedy, horrible little images seemed so anathema to his usually cold existence. He denied himself so much that all of this seemed fit to drown him if he wasn't careful.]

[Here, hook, line, and sinker.]

A good question. [Tipping the man back onto the bed - there we go - before he kneels over him with a hum and another sucking kiss.] Let's see if you can manage to even damage this old hide of mine.