As Rung's ministrations reach the mount of Perceptor's scope, he shudders with a low moan, and nips harder at Rung's neck. It feels so wonderful. Slow heat building from within, and Rung's delicate hands teasing the sensitive micro-servos of his scope mount sends frissions of sharp want coursing through his frame.

"...maybe I could..." he gasps again, dragging his hand down Rung's back to curl his fingers into the slim gaps at Rung's hip for a moment, fingertips teasing the housing there. "Maybe I could taste you?" he dares, and the thin shiver that ripples through him is as much for the thrill of being able to utter those words, as it is for those hands and lips still teasing him.