He doesn't need to breathe, he doesn't - sometimes his lungs actually protest how much he still does so out of pure habit; but still he gasps as he feels Herbert's finger traces around him. The feeling of getting slicked down makes him groan, hips twitching as he struggles against the impulse to squirm.

But he holds still. He holds still, and he waits, one hand wrapping over Herbert's on his chest.