Noah may or may not be lying, though Freddie has a hard time believing he's not touched himself at all since he found himself in this body. Freddie's not sure he'd stop touching himself if he looked like this, especially knowing it won't last.

Either way, that breathless plea is hard to ignore. Not that Freddie wants to. His lips quirk into a sideways grin as he slides his hand inward along the flat, soft plane of Noah's stomach. His ab muscles aren't as prominent as usual in this body, but he's still undeniably fit, body shivering and clenching under Freddie's touch and, grinning, Freddie ducks into the soft of Noah's neck, mouthing along the curve there as he circles Noah's nipple with his other thumb.

"Let's get you out of this," he decides, easing his hips away enough to let the dress fall to the floor, leaving Noah standing in only his underwear, a flimsy little strip of fabric across his hips.