Keelan nearly crooned when the friction between them hit him just right, his eyes fluttering and threatening to roll back in his head. Instead, he let an unsteady breath loose. The other man wasn't the only easy one in the room, though this strange desire was more potent than any aphrodisiac he'd ever been exposed to. This was true want, and it picked his pulse up faster and faster the more the other man spoke. It thundered through his veins, making him feel more alive than he had in a long time. The thing was, he easily knew why this was all getting to him.

The other slave - whom Keelan didn't have a name to yet - and himself were two sides of the same coin. He'd lost his fire, his hope, - even his will to escape and know freedom again, however much an illusion it was when you were a slave. But it was easy to see that the other man hadn't just by listening to him speak and see how he took action.

Life was beginning to spark inside of him again.

"It doesn't mean they stop. If anything, sometimes if you show you like it they strike you more out of spite." His free hand pressed to the back of the other man's neck, drawing him closer. A tilt of head was all they would need to breach the gap and kiss again, but instead Keelan was more interested in something that seemed very important suddenly. "What is your name? You never gave it to me."