Chuck. [Mike shakes his head, hand sliding back up underneath his jaw.
[Only very later he will realize that he just really couldn't stop touching him, feel the skin underneath the pads of his fingers even when his head is clear and he isn't drunk on sensation. His mind immediately compared it to the metallic surface of their car, that it wasn't cool and smooth but warm and soft, save for a few nervous patches of their own youth, and he would actually never really question why he'd been so quickly to compare two things that only seem tenuously connected.]
He should've known he'd embarrass him so deeply with this, but he had to say it. He doesn't want him to justify it, no matter the reason Chuck probably had - or lacked.] I know--You saw me: I'm definitely not complaining.
[His eyes widen at a sudden realization, but he takes it in stride, shoulders slumping. "I don't think I'd ever complain." But that's something for later.] What I mean is: you don't have to explain it to me, just this was good. This is good.
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[Only very later he will realize that he just really couldn't stop touching him, feel the skin underneath the pads of his fingers even when his head is clear and he isn't drunk on sensation. His mind immediately compared it to the metallic surface of their car, that it wasn't cool and smooth but warm and soft, save for a few nervous patches of their own youth, and he would actually never really question why he'd been so quickly to compare two things that only seem tenuously connected.]
He should've known he'd embarrass him so deeply with this, but he had to say it. He doesn't want him to justify it, no matter the reason Chuck probably had - or lacked.] I know--You saw me: I'm definitely not complaining.
[His eyes widen at a sudden realization, but he takes it in stride, shoulders slumping. "I don't think I'd ever complain." But that's something for later.] What I mean is: you don't have to explain it to me, just this was good. This is good.