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Reno shifted, the back of his head to the top of his shoulders pressing against the side of Vincent's thigh and smoothing out dark, rumpled fabric. A quiet noise accompanied his exhale. Vincent saw his brief grimace fade into a small frown. Reno's eyes opened minutely and soon fluttered closed again as Vincent slipped his palm over the nape of his neck. Careful fingertips prodded muscles and tendons, moving in slowly widening circles. When he found one particularly tight knot, Reno sighed sharply. He immediately granted Vincent more access to it, his face turning into the sofa cushion.
Vincent took a moment to gather Reno's slim ponytail and drape it over his lap before he continued massaging, the heat of friction and of Reno's skin further warming his fingers. Reno nodded a little, in encouragement. Tension eased from both men's bodies. Another couple of minutes passed, and Vincent noticed that Reno wasn't merely drifting near the edge but had crossed back into sleep.
His gaze lingered on one of the matching scars on Reno's cheekbones, a bold curve beneath soft eyelashes, and then trailed down to lightly parted lips. Their respective colors were similar but didn't quite match, Vincent thought, his hand idly straying over to Reno's hairline. He traced around the shell of an ear to a temple. Gently, he combed fallen locks of bright red away from Reno's face.
Vincent paused, his hand hovering. Something in the air had changed; he knew he wasn't the only one who'd felt it, judging by the nonsensical murmuring sound Reno made in his sleep as he pushed closer to Vincent again. And when Vincent leaned down to whisper something short and perhaps too honest, Reno turned his head, as if chasing his voice.
Then Reno simply breathed while Vincent simply touched.