[Chuck's breath brushes over his ear, and Mike takes his time. He frowns, feeling, more than seeing, the skin surrounding his shoulders, down the triceps to his elbow, making the joint there itch, slowly crawl with goosebumps. It's the shirt, he thinks for a fleeting and foolish second. Something in the conditioner was tampered by Jacob's new concoctions and he was coming with some sort of reaction to it.
He knows it's not, though, because he's focused on how one of Chuck's freckles isn't a freckle but a light mole by his ear. He's never been one to fool himself. He took whatever came to him and rolled with it, even if those were well-aimed punches or...
a sudden need to hold his best friend tight against him for the entirely wrong [wrong? why wrong?] reasons.
He wants to tilt his head and nuzzle him further until his head turns, until he presses fully against him, until he nips at the earlobe that barely peeks from under Chuck's mane--
no subject
He knows it's not, though, because he's focused on how one of Chuck's freckles isn't a freckle but a light mole by his ear. He's never been one to fool himself. He took whatever came to him and rolled with it, even if those were well-aimed punches or...
a sudden need to hold his best friend tight against him for the entirely wrong [wrong? why wrong?] reasons.
He wants to tilt his head and nuzzle him further until his head turns, until he presses fully against him, until he nips at the earlobe that barely peeks from under Chuck's mane--
He takes a deep, slow and silent breath.]