It's an education in Charlie, the kind he doesn't think he could have gotten any other way, to find out what a filthy mind he's got. It's delightful, to have this shared with him, to feel like Charlie feels safe enough; he's glad he was vulnerable with him, glad that he admitted what his dreams were, how he felt.

And he's getting very fond of the feel of Charlie's body warm and affectionate against him.

"He hasn't, no," he says honestly, and that's when the first tip of a tentacle actually slides in, slick, while the other starts gently moving along the rim. Another comes back between them, doing his best not to brush Charlie's dick but not entirely succeeding to grab more of what he needs to add a third 'finger' down there and more of what seems to be very slick liquid to ease the work.

"Bleating?" He chuckles a little fondly. "Is that the sound you think I'd make?"