It sounds boring. But Alastor gave him an answer, and it sounded honest enough, so Angelo supposes he has to give him something for it. He rolls his hips forward again, his head falling forward a little as a shudder of pleasure rolls through him. He finds a rhythm again, less frenetic than before, practically sweet in comparison although it's not soft by any means. "I don't believe you," Angelo tells him. "The way you act, seems like all you ever do is think about me."