"I won't," he reassures, and he loves the way Ginsberg's clinging to him, drawing him so close, tying their two bodies together in a tight knot. Once he's in all the way he keeps still, breathing slowly and letting Ginsberg adjust around him. Ned can feel every tiny shift and twitch of his muscles, and he worries for a moment that he didn't prepare Ginsberg enough, couldn't have, because he feels so tight. But he's hearing no complaints, so he lets out a slow breath and smiles.

He draws back his hips a fraction and pushes back in, can't hold back a low groan, head falling forward to rest against Ginsberg's shoulder. He repeats the motion, slow and shallow thrusts, reaches between their bodies to wrap his hand around Ginsberg's cock and stroke him in time, coaxingly. Ned presses his mouth against the curve of the other man's neck, doesn't quite manage to muffle the small whimper of enjoyment that spills from his lips.

"Let me know-" he manages, though his voice is choked and husky, "If I'm- ah- if you want me to slow down. Fuck!"