(It's a look that was going to haunt Simon for months to come. No one has ever looked at him like that before. Not even in his own youth, nor his more innocent years. He doesn't know what to do with it, so he does nothing at all, carefully stitching it into the deepest part of his mind. He shifts his gaze away before he does or says anything stupid, swallowing around the feeling instead.

He was picking this guy up for a proper fucking. There was no need to get sentimental.)

I like to blend into the background, most days. (Which, surprisingly, was easy even despite the mask. But there's a smirk in his voice.)

If you're not squeamish, I'll let you see more.

(Which...isn't something most people say to entice someone to see their nudity. But there were plenty of scars on his bare arm already. Skin ravaged by torture, though he knew a civie likely wouldn't understand the exact damage for what it was, but it wasn't a pretty sight regardless. It was worse everywhere else. Maybe the worst on his chest.

He gazes down at the boy, amused and attracted by the way he has to stand up on his toes just to get close to him.)

Mmm. (He's grinning under the mask now, his eyes glittering.)

Depends on how we want to define 'drink.'

(His hands seize Leif by the hips abruptly and without so much as losing a single breath, he's picking Leif right on up, hands sliding under his ass and pulling his legs around his waist. Leif weighed absolutely nothing to him.)

I'd take a sip or two of you.