[Just stays like that for a moment, pressed down against him, hands pinning his down.]
Maybe... [gives him a slow smile, contemplative, and shifts his hands so he's gripping his wrists with one and sliding the other one down between them, squeezing it up under his shirt to touch over his stomach and chest, just because.] ... it's less what I'm going to do and more like what the birthday boy wants me to do to him.