The blush on his cheeks only deepens. But if he demands plain speech from Claudius, he can ask no less of himself. "He said that he might hold me in his lap, and thou couldst fuck me," Laertes says, low. It feels almost humiliating to speak it, when hearing it from Sagramore had felt wild and giddy and freeing--as though Laertes's voice has made the act small and coarse and filthy. "Or I could take thee in my mouth, while he fucked me. Or we could take him both at once. And all of those thoughts put such a flame in me that I could have had him right there on the grass."