It's a rhetorical question, one they both know the answer to. The odds of Philip leaving Freddie hard and kneeling in the grass are just as high as this outcome, but Freddie can't deny that he likes this turn much more. And, with him at least, it seems Philip is eager to give as much as he is to receive. Sometimes Freddie does wonder if he's a bit special in that regard.

Grinning, he rests back on his elbows. The chaise isn't particularly comfortable, but that hardly matters as Freddie keeps his eyes on where Philip's knelt between his spread thighs. Even in the dark, Freddie can make out the hunger in his expression and he bites his lip as he rocks his hips upward, rolling into the heat Philip's palm.

He glances up then, past the bend of Philip's head, looking to make sure they still haven't been found out. The night's as dark as ever, no light in any of the windows so far as he can see and, emboldened, Freddie lets out a low groan. He reaches down, helping Philip out a bit with the button of his trousers and lifts his hips enough for Philip to drag them down just enough to free his cock. "Yeah, c'mon," he murmurs, already achingly hard. "Let me fuck your mouth, yeah?"