[He has to sort his thoughts in order to say what he wants to say, made even more challenging by the vulnerable content of what he's feeling as he looks down at Cy, as he enjoys the sensual rub of hands on naked thighs. He steadies himself with his right hand against Cy's shoulder, then bends in closer—seeking both the affection of a head laid down against the man's chest while also taking the opportunity to hide his face.

Just this time, at least, if Cy allows it.]

You've said a lot for me already. [Gingerly, he eases his weight more fully flush against Cy, less for the sexual aspect now than simple intimacy of touch. A fumbling communication of sentiment.] I want you to know that I heard it. And I won't forget it. [Ever.] And that it also isn't only your responsibility, because I want to... do the same for you. I want you to feel safe. I want you to believe that I can protect you, too.

[His words aren't so effortless, clearly struggling to be expressed.]

I'm less afraid of you hurting me than I am of hurting you. I know that you'll laugh, because wounds don't matter—not with your ability—but I don't want to do that. I never want to cause you pain, even by accident. You could tell, but I've done it before. I've tried to kill people who were important to me, because I was lost, and confused, and it seemed easier to... sever those connections than it did to live with them.