Cole sobbed with something, maybe relief or exaltation, when Dorian's hands touched him and he could feel calluses and scars and nothing at all but how good that touch was, moving over him in ways that seemed to soothe and stoke the burn at once.

When Dorian curled over him, pressing their brows together and his breath against Cole's own mouth, his words didn't mean anything, but he could taste the affection, the want, the all encompassing 'Dorian' of him. His body didn't know the rhythms, but Dorian did and he trusted Dorian and that was enough that he believed him when said he had him.

He came undone with a cry that tried to be Dorian's name and didn't quite get there. The tight wound feeling snapped too taut and released, making his body shiver and his legs kick out, pushing up against Dorian's body. The rush of heat along him, out of him was frightening and thrilling and overwhelmingly good.