He let out a soft and not entirely faked moan at the knee pressing between his thighs, rising onto his toes as those hands slide under his shirt to find bare skin. "I know," he murmurs gently, head falling forward for a moment against Pan's shoulder before Ganymede's hands slide up as well, pushing away in pretended protest. Oh, he's played this game quite often, yes. He's good at acting the part of an unsure teen, which is exactly what people expect of him--unless they already know better.

"Will it feel good, you being inside me?" he asks, putting on the act and pulling his hips away as if trying to preserve virtue he gave up millennia ago, shy and almost convincingly virginal.