[It's so easy to give into the moment—pain, pleasure, gentle fingers, hard tile—but Dorian's wild and racing mind comes onto something, just for a second, just long to sputter it out.] Wait. Wait wait wait wait wait wait. We're friends. We're men, and we're friends. Aren't we? We're men. We're men and this isn't Eton. We can't—this isn't—can this be—we can't—

—can we?