Duck Lake Been to hell and back, I can show you vouchers

There's a frantic fluttering in his stomach as Midar draws nearer, morphing quickly into heat at the touch. He sucks in a sharp breath, exhaling slowly as he tried to find his composure. The words are strangely reassuring, considering he can barely bring himself to trust the man, but his heart is still pounding. He turns slightly, bringing his own muzzle to meet the dark-furred male's jaw and tracing his nose lightly down to the other's throat if he's allowed. He leaves a trail of soft kisses, breath shallow and slightly too fast. I believe you, he wants to say, but he doesn't think he can form words now — so he hopes the touch is enough.