[ He'd be perfectly ... well, not content, exactly, but sated if this were to end with just a handjob. It's what he expects for the most part, and whatever grinding he's doing against Sherwood's lap is purely accidentally, just a product of tensed muscles and building desire. It's not even his fault, anyway? It's the old man's fault for teasing him like this?

But like, when he hears that gentle murmur against the shell of his ear.

His weight bears down on Sherwood's lap from how quickly he whips his gaze around to shoot the other a bristling glare. ]

Haa?! [ Then another shift of his weight -- but this time, more deliberate. Because Fuuta angles to seat himself more squarely on one of Sherwood's thighs, movements coming a little stiff from the arousal still swimming in his veins. ] Who're you calling small?! And -- [ The grate of his voice is accompanied by an abrupt shift of his free hand to grind down right against Sherwood's groin, groping directly at him. An incredibly crass move that he'd never even think to make under normal circumstances, but one that comes terribly easily when it's his pride being questioned like this. ] -- you're not that big, old man. Don't go making assumptions about me like that!