[Tristan stares at Ariel, watching him lick his fingers with Tristan's cum on them, and he doesn't even know what he feels anymore. It's weirdly erotic but he doesn't want to think of it that way, but even when he rebels at it it's true. He feels heavy and warm from orgasm and sick and gross from everything else. He doesn't try to look away or hide his face, too exhausted and spent, just trying to breathe.]