[It could be the implicit permission he never thought he'd get from Yuuri, or the strange tie between loyalty and sex that Diva stoked inside him, or just his ever-present need to give Yuuri whatever he needs. Whichever the case, Conrad's not thinking clearly enough to stop himself from curling a hand over Yuuri's hip, tugging him closer. His heel digs into the mattress so he can move properly, giving Yuuri more of that friction that made him gasp. Conrad's own breath is momentarily halted by it, though not so much that he needs to break their kiss.]