[Liking it? Carefully, Prior reverses their positions, turning his hand over to take and turn Byerly's, ghosting fingertips over his palm.]

It's mostly arbitrary, the places we consider intimate. Besides the obvious, I mean. The real prudes cover themselves from ankle to wrist to throat - and they know their stuff. Anywhere a little less exposed. The places where the blood's closest to the surface of the skin, where we're vulnerable - there's an intimacy to that. Maybe not neat little bundles of nerve endings but-

[He curls his fingers, drags blunt nails lightly from wrist to inner elbow. There are enough.]