Thomas' fingers were really very talented, and Vlad's head slowly tilted back to rest on the other man's shoulder, arching up against the touch just the tiniest bit. "Oh no. Lacci hates puns. You're safe." Nails scraped against skin, and he hissed, just a little. One of his hands had drifted down to rest on Thomas' thigh; now his hand clenched slightly, fingernails curling inward and scraping over denim.

But then the touch was taken away, which was more than disappointing. Things were just beginning to get interesting. But at the comment, Vlad tilted his head farther back to look up at the other man again - at the same time revealing a certain expanse of smooth pale neck.

It was trying, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he spoke, tone casual. "Oh she did." And, because Thomas was needling him and he couldn't resist, Vlad added, "Twice." He shifted, straightening, stretching lazily, removing the hand that was drifting up Thomas' leg. "But I recover remarkably quickly."