( Ahh, so he's going to ask for help immediately like that, huh? Esikko keeps his amusement to himself, as much as he can— the twinkle in his eyes is something he can't stop, but he holds back the laugh that wants to follow, instead turning himself to face Bakugo better on the bed's edge. )

...I could suck, but only if you asked for it.

( He could use his mouth, he means, the tease slipping out as he reaches to slide a palm up and along Bakugo's thigh. After all, control is his favorite thing to have in an intimate situation like this, and Esikko can't help but feel that he's had it from the start. Waiting, patiently, watching, and now touching, palming against Bakugo's arousal before he wraps his slender fingers around the base. His hands are cold, unnaturally so, to the touch— but he can't help that, and he has a feeling that the spicy meat will do a lot of heavy lifting with the heat, here. )

I don't think you'll have too much trouble, here. ( His voice is soft, even if unasked for, as his eyes flick up to Bakugo's face to watch for his reaction to the slow start of strokes. After so long, does it feel good, or is it too much, to go so slow? He'll react accordingly. ) Despite your anger.