[ The scratch is but a faint tingle, enough to whet his appetite without slaking it. Bull's eye narrows as his free hand snakes into Dorian's hair, tugging his head back just enough to graze teeth against the line of his jaw in answer. ]

You want a list? I was going through one at the party.

[ Again his hand squeezes, strokes upwards as he feels Dorian start to fill under his grasp, and his thumb presses to circle against his head where it threatens to push past the hem of his smalls. ]

Getting you into one of those little side-rooms, pressed up against the door. Have to be quick, or they'd notice we were gone, you trying to keep quiet and catch your breath while I fucked you open.

[ Bull's teeth find a particularly soft stretch of Dorian's throat with a hum, and the slide of his teeth pinches that skin until it turns pink. ]

All those sneering assholes in their masks just on the other side, without a clue.