Ned needs that change to catch his breath; Ginsberg might not have much practice at this, but his instincts are good, and even Ned is surprised by how light-headed he feels, how out of breath and aroused just from those wandering, curious touches. When Ginsberg bit him - just a small amount - Ned bit down on his bottom lip but didn't quite suppress a noise of approval.

"Okay," Ned says, mostly to himself, gathering the scattered threads of his composure, "Okay. Right. Yes." He has to try twice to get the cap off the lube, because his hands aren't so steady at present. He meets Ginsberg's eyes, bright and dark and intent on him. Fighting down embarrassment, Ned says, "I'll show you first and then you can copy what I do." The lube is cold on his skin, and there's something so peculiarly erotic about demonstrating this to Ginsberg, about touching himself under that observant look. Ned has to shut his eyes against it, just for now, shifting his legs apart and pressing a finger into himself. His toes curl against the sheets but he manages to hold in the whimper that's fighting its way up his throat - that is, until he opens his eyes a sliver and sees Ginsberg watching him. After that, he hisses a quick fuck under his breath and starts to move his hand, slowly. "You should always- do this first, or it hurts a lot more."