[Chuck's bashfulness has always been a constant in their interactions. Mike's ease in giving him compliments and words of encouragement brought it up to surface most of the time, it was part of Chuck in himself already. But then, Mike limits himself to watching him nod, sandy eyelashes over freckles as he brushes his hair away from his eyes - he had reached for him without thought, much like he had when they first met, when they first got into a mess, when Chuck was facing immediate danger, when they first celebrated a victory or their mere survival.
Mike was the type of guy who'd let his body move according to his gut, intuitive and instinctive and with a level of survival that was off the charts [along with his borderline suicidal tendencies translated into recklessness], but right then, he frowns at his own subconscious will. With something rasping loudly onto his ribcage, he sighs, swallows down a knot in his throat, pulling his head high enough to kiss just below Chuck's eye, his mind struck in one mere thought: You knew this was going to happen. Time to own to it, Mike.
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Mike was the type of guy who'd let his body move according to his gut, intuitive and instinctive and with a level of survival that was off the charts [along with his borderline suicidal tendencies translated into recklessness], but right then, he frowns at his own subconscious will. With something rasping loudly onto his ribcage, he sighs, swallows down a knot in his throat, pulling his head high enough to kiss just below Chuck's eye, his mind struck in one mere thought: You knew this was going to happen. Time to own to it, Mike.
No matter how.]