Fingers pull out so abruptly that Baptiste makes a noise far more earnest than performative. A sharp, shuddered gasp that settles as a whine in the back of his throat. From the reaction of the crowd, it becomes quickly apparent they registered just how genuine a sound that was.

Being pulled from the ground and guided to straddle the other's lap - Baptiste's eyes once again take in the arena and the throngs of long-standing guests that watch with prying eyes as he pants, feeling a trace of lube that had been pressed into his hole leak down his thigh. It leaves his throat dry and his chest tight as the bite mark Chika had given him earlier throbs with the change in positioning.

The crowd loves the marks of teeth almost as much as Baptiste had...

His eyes glance to meet Chika's. The reminder of how close he'd been causes his cock to throb. He could've come from those massaging, stretching fingers and the stroking of his cock alone - yes. And, god, if his body hadn't been ready for it.

But this would be perfect. It would be worth the incidental edging this transition caused.

"Please slather more on. I want to hear it when you bury yourself inside of me," Baptiste wets drying lips, "Then we'll see which one of us really comes undone when you find just how much I can take."