Silvertip Mountain i like your eyes wide

As if conjured by his thoughts, Phocion's scent surrounded Cortland only a few beats later. He breathed it in, perfectly still, and his heart skipped. The boy turned his head with a faint smile, argent eyes searching his friend's face with unabashed adoration; if he was meant to feel shame at the open admiration, he was blissfully unaware. His gaze softened with the stark male's words, and briefly he reached to brush his nose along his jawline. The touch only lasted a moment.
The golden druid-child still possessed some hope of calming the strange flickering within his chest— he found that hope immediately dashed as his friend continued. Silver, and perfect. Heat spread under his fur, rising in his face and ears. Oh. Cortland breathed, tone betraying his shock and delight. For several beats, time seemed to slow; he met Phocion's gaze, parted his lips to say something— but nothing came. The cave glimmered around them, charging the air with an energy he could not describe. Words had abandoned him once again, and Cortland fell back on a language more familiar to him. He pressed his flank to his the ethereal priest's, nose finding the place where his jaw met his throat. The boy placed several brief, feather-light kisses there, breath catching slightly at their proximity.