[The hug is unexpected, even when it shouldn't be, because Cy has been so liberal with his affections so far. Perhaps because it comes on the hinge of that particular admission—he doesn't see why it would be deserving of something as physical as an embrace.

Yet he finds himself welcoming it, head pillowed against Cy's chest, eyes closed, hearing the deeper drum of his heart. The hand in his hair earns a flickering of lashes; then his eyes open again, and he looks up, chin tucked close at Cy's sternum.]

I don't feel unsafe right now. For that... I don't know. [He frowns.] Maybe with time it'll be easier.

[Unwillingly, his mind circles back to Cy's mention of other partners. If he can barely do this with someone like this man, how is he supposed to do it with others? But his lips press into a firm line; he shelves it neatly, irritated that it came back up.]

Can we keep going? I want to do more with you. The toy... and if you'll let me, I want to try using my mouth.

[goodbye trauma, hello sex]