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[altusimperius]

tell him how pretty he is

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[altusimperius]

Benedict is just as shocked as Colin is, and stares up at him with sudden silent horror, afraid that he saw something, or... that he himself did something??

"What?" he asks, his voice a little higher than usual. "...yes??"

[keenly]

After a frozen, trembling moment, Colin finds himself pressing Benedict into the mattress, pulling his pants down and casting them aside. He goes back to stroking him, while offering an open bottle of oil to him.

"Hold out your hand," he says, eyes focused intently on Benedict's face. Keep looking at his face. Keep track of who he is. "Please."

[altusimperius]

Still a little lost, but nonetheless here for it, Benedict does as requested and holds out his hand. In the meantime, he glances over Colin, quirking a little smile back up at his face as he does: whatever the case, he seems like he's still doing all right.

[keenly]

Colin tips the bottle of oil into Benedict's hand, just a little before he's putting it back down. There's a second's hesitation, as he is torn between what he wants and what he fears. His hand leaves Benedict and flattens against the bed, giving himself support so he can straddle the other man.

"I want--" His voice catches, and he swallows and tries again. "I want you to finger me."

[altusimperius]

As the oil touches Benedict's hand, he begins to spread it around over his fingers, as one does, in a motion that's more automatic than intentional. He pauses when Colin speaks, and although he looks slightly surprised by the request, he nods silently, glancing him over and then beginning to blush.
This is farther than he's ever gone. "I, ah..." he begins, and murmurs, "...will you tell me how?"