[Thorn's doing that thing with his hair again. Cobalt starts to feel his normal anxiety and unease about it when he suddenly realizes the feeling Thorn's having while doing it is not the one Cobalt assumed he had. It is, in fact, a radically different emotion.

Cobalt's anxiety stutters and vanishes like a puff of smoke, replaced with tentative understanding and a bit of hopefulness, that maybe this gesture didn't mean what he thought it meant after all. Maybe this is actually okay.

Maybe this is better than okay.

After that, everything gives way to a growing outpouring of love, simple and helpless and large enough that it feels like it could fill the room. He wants to kiss him, to wrap an arm around him and pull him up against his side and take comfort in the warmth of his body.

But for now he does nothing except desperately yearn for his touch.]




...Would—


Would you be willing to give me one, too?