[Little? Ooh, that draws a scowl, but no words to acknowledge it. The truth to that is all the more evident when he's held to the other man like this, but Jeremiah refuses to be cowed. He's been the smaller party enough before, even if that's even further back in his history. He can handle himself just fine. What's unfortunate is how tempting it is to lean into, pressing one of his thighs a little more firmly where it meets McGillis's, the swell of his bicep significant against his own.

A heeded warning only guarantees acknowledgement. Jeremiah would never bother giving word that he'd comply.

And those rations? Yeah, not as safe as he'd hoped, once he got hungry enough to turn to the dilapidated trinket from their last encounter. He's managing fine, really, as much untainted food as he can get and reasonably justify eating at once, then supplementing the rest when his stomach begins to ache. Initiating physical contact like this is a mistake for maintaining his patience. Thanks, for that.]

"Multiple" only means two or more, there seems no requirement. [Nor does the "more" part sound impossible. Surely if he can make a woman do it, he can push a man to that limit, too. His face isn't without a flush, but he persists, tone quiet but fairly even.] You haven't known me behind closed doors yet, so don't assume.