( A faint whine escapes his lips when Brad breaks it, wanting it more than he has his wits about him; he's not so far gone that a call out can't embarrass him into pushing Brad back to save what little pride he has (unsuccessfully), but, until he's reminded - his true feelings are plain.
His lips, slightly parted, purse into a tight frown at the question, the faint red of embarrassment heating his cheeks. Not embarrassed enough to breaks things off himself, fortunately for Brad. )
... 'm not a lightweight.
( Ugh. But he knows what Brad's really getting at. Brad's so - Nero doesn't know the word for it. He could make Nero do whatever he wants now, but he doesn't. He takes charge, but never too much. Even if Nero protests, Brad isn't too much when they're alone like this, hands pushed up under his shirt. Nero doesn't try to push them away. )
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His lips, slightly parted, purse into a tight frown at the question, the faint red of embarrassment heating his cheeks. Not embarrassed enough to breaks things off himself, fortunately for Brad. )
... 'm not a lightweight.
( Ugh. But he knows what Brad's really getting at. Brad's so - Nero doesn't know the word for it. He could make Nero do whatever he wants now, but he doesn't. He takes charge, but never too much. Even if Nero protests, Brad isn't too much when they're alone like this, hands pushed up under his shirt. Nero doesn't try to push them away. )
I know what I'm doin'. Do you?