"Fuk, that was good, babe." The way he's heard it used by humans, the word as an endearment doesn't mean anything all that specific. He should say something, after all. He's not really worn out, but Mort clearly is, and he's not confident about more pheromones. He'll wait. "Wake me when you're ready for another." How long has it been since he's been able to share a bed? Be held properly while he rests? Some of Sujuno's crew would let him lie next to them after they rolled off him. Not the same.
So he's not getting kicked out just yet, Mort is going to take the opportunity to enjoy this by touching as much as possible. Snuggling even. He does turn over onto his side, not wanting Nadayaki to have to continue holding his weight, but he rests his head on the man's chest.
Even if Nadayki didn't need the contact desperately, this is, after all, Mort's bed. Which he has every intention of keeping the use of. He despises his own cabin, and if he can't spin this thing into the sex and attention he wants more or less on demand, he's not as good as he thinks he is. He twines his fingers up loosely in Mort's hair and turns his masker back up as he settles in. This is what he needed.
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