[vash may not try to be suggestive, but with their limbs and lips all tangled up, it's... hard not to think about. his movements slow and his grip lets up for a few seconds before he tilts his head once more, enough that their foreheads but not their lips can touch. he swallows, his face awfully warm.]

Are you, ah -- okay, here, or d'you wanna go somewhere -- more comfortable? [...] I know how that sounds, but -- [another couple of seconds, and he laughs nervously.] Alright, it's exactly how it sounds.