Another small complaint works its way out of his throat. No self-pleasure, he reminds himself with a thick swallow, no matter how much he wants to use his own strength to rub against Hythlodaeus' crotch.

Reaching up, he grasps his partner's shirt and tugs them down. If this is all the touch he is going to receive, he wants to at least be able to service Hythlodaeus in his own way. As his deft fingers undo his friend's shirt buttons, he noses into the crook of the other man's neck and scrapes his teeth over skin. It is easy to find a choice spot and a choice moment to sink them into a bruising hickey.