When Nero can bring himself to sit up right again, he looks down at Cid both of them with their pants either down around their ankles or just straight off. A wave of adoration, and then a softer thing, a loving thing, sweeps over Nero's features before he remembers himself and puts back his haughty demeanor.

"You look so good," he purred, reaching down, "hard and wanting like that. Tell me what you need, Garlond, and you get it? Well -- other then to remember to jump me in a room you've got something we can use."

Because he knows he will. He knows. They're like magnets, always drawing toward each other until Nero flips his polarity and fires himself away, running like he always has.