Thread:ThisIsXenon/@comment-34147452-20190802011425/@comment-32273133-20190827200148

//😉 elevators

“Ah!” Micah’s pink too. “Yes, that-that’s probably—” He wraps his arms around Damian/Min’s neck for stability and rests his head on Min/Damian’s shoulder. “Probably a good idea.” He’s warm....Not necessarily in a feverish way, just enough that the chill in Micah’s bones was thawing a bit. And his arms were firm and safe and maybe, Micah thought, it was okay to relax. Let his guard down a little, though he knew if he did too much that all the crazy, nonsensical emotions would come back and he’d be crying over nothing. That had happened enough over the past forty-eight hours—when he first got to Fireon, at the tattoo shop, back at Fireon to return what he stole, at Senshei’s stronghold, and now here again.

Sleep. He needed sleep. Sleep, and however much he hated to admit it, food and water and love and time to heal. Not because he deserved it [because he couldn’t possibly, not after everything he’d done], but because Damian deserved a functioning boyfriend.

''Functioning. Not for me''. He closed his eyes. ''Get to functioning for him. ''