[It's mostly instinct, the way he leans into Mike's touch, uttering a small contented noise as he does so. The swiping across his cheek leads him to open his eyes, just squinting at first, but eventually eyelids rising farther up as his sight focuses on his friend.
He's surprised and curious as he looks over Mike's face. They've certainly been this close before - probably even closer, all those times he clings desperately to Mike's shoulders, chin locked over Mike's neck as they both hang off a cliff, or even when they're just trying to choose what pizza to order out of the same menu. He can't imagine why he never noticed the wrinkles at the corner of Mike's eyes, or the almost microscopic scar, probably from a cut or a hit, at the edge of his upper lip. He can tell, as he swallows it down, the knot in his throat shifting to settle on his chest and stomach; somehow now it feels even worse because he's pretty sure that, if he breathes too deep or for long enough, it might just actually hurt.
His own hand finally lets go, though much to his discomfort, especially considering that, since it's covered in their own cum, he can't really rest it over Mike's stomach or move it up to cup his face either.]
Thanks. [Smooth, really. He's pretty sure that's not the right thing to say right now, and he immediately regrets it. Too bad that once they're out, Chuck can't really shove the words back in his mouth and swallow them whole. He bites his lip and looks away, staring at the wall just behind Mike.] Uh, I mean... that... didn't come out right. That's not what I meant.
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He's surprised and curious as he looks over Mike's face. They've certainly been this close before - probably even closer, all those times he clings desperately to Mike's shoulders, chin locked over Mike's neck as they both hang off a cliff, or even when they're just trying to choose what pizza to order out of the same menu. He can't imagine why he never noticed the wrinkles at the corner of Mike's eyes, or the almost microscopic scar, probably from a cut or a hit, at the edge of his upper lip. He can tell, as he swallows it down, the knot in his throat shifting to settle on his chest and stomach; somehow now it feels even worse because he's pretty sure that, if he breathes too deep or for long enough, it might just actually hurt.
His own hand finally lets go, though much to his discomfort, especially considering that, since it's covered in their own cum, he can't really rest it over Mike's stomach or move it up to cup his face either.]
Thanks. [Smooth, really. He's pretty sure that's not the right thing to say right now, and he immediately regrets it. Too bad that once they're out, Chuck can't really shove the words back in his mouth and swallow them whole. He bites his lip and looks away, staring at the wall just behind Mike.] Uh, I mean... that... didn't come out right. That's not what I meant.