Asher watches Nathaniel as light dawns, shivering under his rather feral gaze. He feels wild, a little lost like this, Nathaniel's hunger, his agressiveness, leeching away at Asher's assertiveness.

He nods as Nathaniel asks wordless permission, brushing fingers against him, hand between his thighs. He pushes down, trying to coax Nathaniel into touching him more, pressing into him.

"Yes, mon chat," he breathes.