[And it's not even the lines of code, the mathematical equations, that are the problem--it's whats causing them to be necessary that's the problem, and Delta gladly throws himself into sensation to try and rid himself of it. There's a different thrill this time than before, not being high on alcohol and party atmosphere and warm from the sauna (a mental image Delta catches before it slips away, and the memory of York arching and whimpering under his own touch makes him squirm just a little). This is their own house, their own bed--and with that thought comes the need to be quiet, not that the others haven't already collapsed from the long day. He digs his fingers into the sheets as York's touch goes from light to firm, pinching for that little bit of pain to mix in with the pleasure. Yes, his mind says, echoed softly by his voice, his legs beginning to rub up a little against York's. Not twining them together, just that little extra bit of friction, of contact, of responding in a nonverbal way.]
action; Day 138, late evening