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Summary
His anxious brain seems to go completely quiet at this, all logical thought leaving, and he feels like a creature made only of instinct. He wants to reach out, he wants to pull John close.
“Can I… can I…” John’s eyes finally look away from Paul’s chest and up to his face, and he’s so vulnerable, an instinctual creature too, broken and looking for respite. “Can I have some? It’s…it’s for me, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Paul breathes out, relief unknotting a tension in him he didn’t know was there. “Yes, it’s for you.”
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John hungers. Paul feeds him.