Falling into Greek, assuming Nicky could understand it, meant he was doing something very good, and even if he didn't understand the language Ganymede's body language painted a hell of a picture. His head tipped back every time Nicky pressed in, lip between his teeth almost to the point of drawing blood with the effort he was trying to keep his voice quiet with. His fingers clenched in the bedclothes, toes curling as his breath stuttered.

It was too much and not enough all at once, sending prickles of warning ensation down his limbs. "Nicky--Nicky, please--too much, please..." His voice was raw, edging into melodic the way he forced the words out.