He yells something, as soon as Random's writhing, and it doesn't stop as he leans forward, gets louder when muscles clench and hands roam down his body. It's not Random's name though, that much is obvious - and there's nothing intelligible after he starts to move either, just another series of cries as his head is turned to one side, eyes squeezed tightly shut, aware of almost nothing except the pleasure that comes from the friction he's finally getting.