Quentin won't get words, but he does get little noises, sighs at the kisses, shivers as his lips move over bare, freckled skin. It relaxes him a bit, the softness. It feels nice, makes him want more.

Another noise, a gasping almost squeak as his finger breeches Corbin's entrance and that feels less nice, makes his eyebrows furrow and he whimpers as Quentin pushes the finger in, it feels so strange right now, even if it doesn't hurt. He lets his eyes fall, looking at himself like this feels, strange, almost voyeuristic, even if it's not. He felt the shape of Quentin's cock against his ass, so much larger than the single finger he has up there now. The mouth on his ear is nice, and the words make him pull his gaze back up, where he sees Quentin mouthing at his neck and shoulders, and himself, gawky and blushing, his cheeks and neck flushed and his brows knit together as Quentin works his finger in him.