He soaks up the words, humming contently. There's no resistance left and he accepts the small push by quietly obeying. His head falls back, body no longer tense but a heavy, warm weight melting into the couch and each touch it receives. He watches Jade with lazy eyes, licking his lips when he feels hot breath ghost over them.

"Should I be like this tomorrow, for your friend?" It's easy, at the moment. Giving in, finding excitement in it even. Allowing himself to flush and his fingers to curl up the fabric of Jade's shirt as he clings to him. But somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows he won't be able to reproduce this behavior. There's a mental wall between this, which is so good and relieving, and allowing himself to indulge and explore it.

The wall's cracked, but still it stands ... and it sounds like Jade's guest isn't interested in unrelenting concrete.