He can't move his head without the tingling tightness turning painful, but his eyes flick down when Jedao grinds into his lap, and the sight of Jedao's election against his pants, so close to Eiffel's, gets a wavering sort of gasp and a soft, brief litany of "Okay- okay, alright-"

It's not a no or a stop, he just. Needs a second.

"Three times and you're not still wiped out?" he can't help asking - the words escape without much conscious input. "I dunno if I'm that good in person."