Of course, like clockwork, he's pushed back, pinned by Niall's hips and his leg, oh god, pressing hard between his thighs, he can't help but rub himself against it even as he shudders under the cold stare and the stern voice.

"It's part of the house," he says, syllables falling between faltering breaths. "The monstrosity of it. The monster. The part of it that wants to devour. That's all I know, and it's just a guess."

He looks up, meeting Niall's eyes, at once fearful and defiant, always a contradiction with him. He can't speak, still breathing so raw and uneven as he rocks up and down, nice and slow; but it doesn't matter, he suspects. He's breaking the rules enough without unnecessary chatter.