[It's almost impossible to think when Joseph's holding him like this. There are fingers in his hair, and he wants to just melt into that touch, stay here forever and never move again. This is the safest he's felt in forever, maybe since before he can remember. It feels right to be here. It feels like this is where he's supposed to be.]

[But he doesn't know what that means. He knows it's new, but he doesn't know what it is, or if he should follow feeling or logic or something else entirely. It would be a lot easier if Joseph just told him what he should do, but he understands — mostly — why that's a bad idea.]

[This is just tiring, thinking about it. He sighs, wraps his arms around Joseph's middle and shrugs a little.]

I want you. I know I want you. But if that's . . . I don't know, if you want that then . . .

[He's mumbling against Joseph's shoulder now, reluctant, words coming slow.]

I want to know what you want, too . . .