*Cesar has just enough time for the memory of Lazarus straddling him behind a hedge to come to mind, face flushed with the absurdity of an adventure gone ridiculous, and of Lazarus touching his wrist with his fingers in his mouth, changing a silly thing into one that was unmistakably arousing. Snippets of time, both of them Lazarus-driven--*

*Cesar sits back down heavily, not really having the balance to fight the push. He shrugs at the continued touch, sending the copy a hooded look as he starts rising again. The instant he's up he turns to sign.*

{I'm not here for you. You're a copy. Shouldn't you be ashamed of yourself to be so hungry for your original's castoffs?}

*...Hah. Cesar doesn't even care how much that was a self-effacing dig at himself. At this point he just wants to hurt the clone enough that he lets Cesar leave without further cajoling. Cesar's mouth curls in a little sickle of a smile, and his teeth glow in the black-light.*