no subject

[ david makes a quiet, pleased noise at the touch of jeff's fingers on his skin, like he hasn't had those hands on him a million times before. but those were different — bloodied fingers patching up wounds, hauling him off the ground and taking his weight, check ins to make sure he's good to keep going, shoving him out the exit gate — and it almost strikes him how little he's touched or been touched by anybody these past years for reasons that weren't either trial related or some desperate seeking of a distraction. ]

[ he drapes an arm over jeff's shoulder, brings his hand to the back of jeff's neck where he can lightly skim his fingers up and down the skin, his other hand moving from where it is at jeff's jaw to cradle the side of his face. touch gentle, but firm and deliberate at the same time. ]