If he'd ever been asked, Ganymede would have readily answered that the thing he loved hearing most was Raylan's voice panting and making those soft grunts that signalled all too clearly how close his lover was to orgasm. The rasp of heavy breathing and the way he shudders are intoxicating to witness, and Ganymede shuddered in his grasp as they both rode out the last aftershocks from the other that left them utterly spent. Or at least him utterly spent, and the melodic ache from his side was turning into a faintly maddening itch.

He slid gently and comfortably into Raylan's embrace, feeling no need to interrupt the moment with too many words when he nuzzled himself into place, fingertips brushing back the marshal's soft hair, feeling the short ends prickle at his nape. He just hummed and tucked himself in against his lover, tossing back the braid he hadn't bothered to undo yet and stretching the fraction of an inch to kiss Raylan. "You're amazing," he whispered softly.