Edwin's breathing had fallen short just at the movement of Charles' hand on him, having to swallow reflexively himself as if that might make him better able to process what he was feeling, and he was feeling quite a bit.

The solid, near-purposeful swipe of Charles' tongue against the sensitive tip was enough to make his breath catch, escaping again as a thready, garbled noise that might have been words at one point but didn't quite make it there, fingers sliding through Charles' hair, delighting in the way the curls seemed to cling to his fingers, as if every part of Charles wanted to be as close as possible, which was a ridiculous thought, but he was already too far gone to care.