[ His heartbeat picks up yet again as he stares down at Kostya's hands working over his with the washcloth, wiping finger-by-finger, and it's a lot; he feels like his capacity for sensation and feeling is being pushed to its maximum by this entire encounter starting from the moment when he first saw the flames billowing up into the sky from across town and came running.
Now he's tired, physically, and beat up, but excited anew even through his own fatigue: being touched like this, cared for so tenderly, by Kostya, it's... exhilarating. They've never been this close, this intimate, except for... except for when there was that bang on the door, and he was so out of his mind then that he only remembers fragments of that ordeal, not a continuous narrative.
Kostya finally lets go and stands; he finds himself a little disappointed. ]
I'll be here, [ He says through the mask, corner of his mouth twitching upwards, dark eyes warm with good humor. His chest aches; his throat burns with inflammation he knows will only feel so much worse tomorrow morning, but it's so much easier to deal with, so much less miserable, with another person here. In the company of a friend. ]
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Now he's tired, physically, and beat up, but excited anew even through his own fatigue: being touched like this, cared for so tenderly, by Kostya, it's... exhilarating. They've never been this close, this intimate, except for... except for when there was that bang on the door, and he was so out of his mind then that he only remembers fragments of that ordeal, not a continuous narrative.
Kostya finally lets go and stands; he finds himself a little disappointed. ]
I'll be here, [ He says through the mask, corner of his mouth twitching upwards, dark eyes warm with good humor. His chest aches; his throat burns with inflammation he knows will only feel so much worse tomorrow morning, but it's so much easier to deal with, so much less miserable, with another person here. In the company of a friend. ]