A shudder runs up his spine at the warm, moist brush of breath over the delicate skin of his wrist, and he sucks in a ragged, gasping breath, struggling for silence when it's followed by a dry press of lips. His hand spasms when Jedao turns it over, strong fingers curling tight around the older man's as he steps in closer.

"I'm always going to have to lie to everyone," he points out, voice a warm, heavy rasp. He's bigger than Jedao, taller and broader, though still lacking an inch or two that'll probably come in a last, late growth spurt, frame heavy with an athlete's muscle, jaw showing a dark patchwork of stubble. It would be easy to take him for early to mid twenties, and even so he's well past legal and he knows exactly what he wants as he lifts his free hand and rests his fingertips just above the perfectly pressed collar of Jedao's dress uniform. Lets his thumb stretch up enough to brush at the sharp line of his jaw. "I didn't figure it would ever get any easier."