[Putting a hand on Sett's mouth thanks, as he kind of props himself up and then proceeds to. Uhhh.]

Language! [He says, while switching his gaze between them, like he's contemplating something. Said contemplation results in the faint smell of sea-brine, because, Aeons forbid, that kiss Did Things to him between his legs.]

I like all the ways you taste, Valencia, this is not new information. [Hh-h-hhh-] You aren't very good at that, Sett.