It's hard to concentrate when Liam is jerking him off, and it's killing him that he isn't using his own hands. They're currently balled into fists, knuckles pressed into the palm of his hands, as Billy jerks his hand up and down in a steady rhythm, Mike brings his hips up, breathing hard through his nose before responding, eyes slipping shut.

"I don't, sir--accept it, I'm not..." A deep breath. He feels like he's going to build up too much, almost, with how his mind is starting and stopping and how that hand is downright magical.

"I'm not like this, but with you, I---yeah--I'm always hard." He's trying to tell himself out loud that it's just Liam that makes him some sort of fucked up freak, but he's far too distracted with both the pain and the fear, both underneath the cotton fog in his mind courtesy of the oxy.

"You're different, sir."