[ Can we? Shouto turns his chin up, waiting for the rest of that question that never comes. His brows furrow. Did you mean-- Can we sleep? He thinks, struck still by the crack in his voice that sounds like a siren to his ears, leaving his heart scrambling.
His fingers tighten and release against his back, swinging between giving him room and squeezing him tighter. The last few months can't erase a decade of learned detachment. It's Allen's final line, spoken before he swings right, that settles the matter.
Shouto tightens his arms around him, mirroring his embrace. ]
Can I hold you too?
[ It's a compulsion. One he can't help but ask because he has to, because it's not enough to think it's okay, he has to know. ]
no subject
His fingers tighten and release against his back, swinging between giving him room and squeezing him tighter. The last few months can't erase a decade of learned detachment. It's Allen's final line, spoken before he swings right, that settles the matter.
Shouto tightens his arms around him, mirroring his embrace. ]
Can I hold you too?
[ It's a compulsion. One he can't help but ask because he has to, because it's not enough to think it's okay, he has to know. ]