"Oh god," he chokes. He lets his arms collapse, lets some of his weight rest on the thick bar of Fives' arm, then groans with a deep, wrenching note as he tries to pull himself up without much else for leverage. The motion is strange in ways he doesn't have the capacity to think through: normally he'd sit back on his haunches to go from hands and knees to kneeling upright, but he can't with Fives there, can only push back against him and struggle to straighten from his core, relying on Fives' support to really manage it. The change in angle is strange too, even before he quite gets settled, new and deep and amazing.

"You got me, don't you baby," he murmurs, shivers at how much he likes the image, held up and helpless while Fives drives into him.