He doesn't resist, doesn't want to resist as Kronid pushes him back against the bed. He can feel himself hardening under the other man's grinding, his own hips twitching, pushing up to try and seek out more and more.

Georg raises his arms above his head to let Kronid hold him there, barely noticing the sting at his back from the scratches.

But then --

-- then Kronid smiles at him like that, and Georg's eyes go wide with shock. With horror. "What -- are you?"