—Evokes a certain immediate sensation of discontent. It bubbles sourly up, and is bitter in the mouth where it lays heavy on the tongue. Yes, that is the direction they should move it. He'd just suggested as much. Nevermind the warm sense of Marcus' knee near his side, or the palms of his hands, or the way the light shows copper on the man's naked skin.

A small shift of fingers: his thumb moving to touch Marcus' wrist in parallel. It's a very narrow point of contact, albeit deliberate.

"You'll tell me," is a reminder. "When you tire of it."