Whitefish River Red Bull and minivans

He's blissfully oblivious to Evergreen's turmoil, caught up in his own confusion over the heat spreading across his skin. He's never felt this way before, not even with —
He tenses slightly, violently shaking the thought away as quickly as it'd come, and takes in another breath. This time, it's oddly soothing, thick with Evergreen's scent and the smell of dirt and life. Grounding, almost. When the other begins to settle, Winterbourne finds himself doing the same. He's tempted to press further into the male's thick mass of chocolate fur, but again he hesitates, uncertain where the boundaries lay. Yes, He murmurs to the question, only half paying attention; his focus is set firmly on the warm feeling blooming from their point of contact.