no subject

[ He surprises himself when he starts at the feel your fingers in his hair, freezing, for a moment before he slowly relaxes and sinks back into that bed. He's quietly peering up at you now, nose and the lower half of his face obscured by his bicep. You are free to notice the shy slant to his gaze, as well as the minute pause when he's managed to take the sight of you in.

You're so goddamn beautiful it hurts.

If his eyes dart away, it's only because he's suddenly contrite and embarrassed -- but not in a bad way. He just... won't... move... too much. Damn. Damndamndamn. Fucking morning wood. ]