[ Opening his mouth to reply, whatever he wants to say dies into a squeak as he shivers under the caress; twitches away, ticklish, and brings his arm down in front of himself with his wine in tow to block Chris doing that again.
The red of the alcohol stains his cheeks, in its own way. ]
no subject
The red of the alcohol stains his cheeks, in its own way. ]
You behave.