witheringmonarch
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"Actually, I've been meaning to ask something of you, Fit." Pac lets the hand fall from his face, but still held in his own. His upper body rose to come up into a upright position, sitting back on Fit's thighs. "It's nothing bad! It's— we're okay. It's okay. It's just— um—"
"Pac." Fit's free hand comes to hold his thigh, letting the warmth radiating from his hand seep deep into the cool metal just under the pajama pants, rubbing his thumb into the glass pane fixed into it. "It's okay, we can talk. What's on your mind?" He ignores how his brain is left lagging behind from the whiplash.
"Well. It's …" He trails off, his hand clutching the metal claw tightens around it. He bites his lip and avoids eye contact with the man under him. Fit is a patient man, he dare not push, so he sits and waits like he always does. For Pac? He'd wait several millennia. "It's about us."
or; Hideduo finally hit home base
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