[He whimpers at the loss of cock and ability to touch, but it's quickly cut off by the fingers driving into him and the cock that follows that. Anders needs... but there's no verse for begging someone to touch you, which means he needs to get creative.]

All this is the work of my Nathaniel's hands, please use them, please touch me, I need, I need that.

[He can't see the expression on Nate's face anymore, and he needs to see that or feel Nate's hands or anything just to keep this as connected as he wants it.]

Guide me through my, my blackest nights...

[He's so close, breathless and noisy, and he's fairly certain Nate could undo him with one gentle touch.]