[ He snorts at the assessment, even if it comes out pretty unsteady given the attention he's getting. Fingers curl into Eddie's shirt at the bite, a rough exhale of breath following, and no matter how sincerely he answers he still sounds distracted, like he's got to focus entirely too hard on pulling the words together. Because Eddie's always distracting, and he's at his most distracting when he's in his lap and his mouth is on him. Or just when his mouth is on him in general, honestly. It's a problem. ]

Pretty sure I wouldn't get married except for to you, Spagheddie, hate to break it to you. I mean, shit, how long were you a girl in my material until I figured out nobody was gonna try to have me fired over the fact I like a dick in my mouth after dinner on Friday nights if they didn't have me fired over the rest of the crap that comes out of my mouth regularly?

[ Fortunately, there's lips on his to quiet whatever else might have spilled out. So he returns the kiss, lazy but heartfelt, one hand moving to cup his cheek. ]

Either way, yeah. End result is pretty damn great.