Ned leaves their foreheads pressed together, but now he's smiling too widely to keep kissing Ginsberg, his whole body buzzing and humming with satiation. "Thank you," he replies, running a hand up and down Ginsberg's arm, just wanting to keep touching him, keep contact. He shuts his eyes a moment and lets out a long, happy sigh, inches closer to Ginsberg, even though the two of them are too hot and a little sweaty and maybe he wants some distance just now. Distance is the very last thing that Ned wants.

"Don't go anywhere," he murmurs, and it's probably rude of him to be so dictatorial, but in his post-coital glow, Ned's possessiveness and desire not to be alone outweighs his impulse not to be demanding.