The air between them seemed to hum; Yu could feel the warmth of his breath, smell the faint trace of wine on it.
Callen leaned over him fully, his eyes unguarded, full of things unsaid.
"Holdin' Cain these days—seein' him smile up at you—made me realize what I threw away. And I don't wanna lie to you about any of it anymore."
His hand, tentative and warm, guided Yu's caught fingers, gliding them up and down against his sweatpants, just over his throbbing cock.
"See? I'm not sayin' this because I'm drunk. I just… I needed you to know. You still do this to me. Always."
Yu felt the wild rhythm of Callen's blood pumping under his palm, the tremor in the man's breath. It was as if the whole confession was pulsing there, beneath his skin.
Yu sat very still, Callen's hand still holding his own against that thudding cock.
For a heartbeat the only sound in the room was the whisper of rain against the window.
