Broken Boulder i can't tell if the want justifies the need

there is too much tenderness here; it is suffocating. he has never dared to hope that he could have this -- with alarian, with any beautiful boy that caught his gaze. but here is alarian, wanting him, wanting him wanting him, so easy, so perfect. he should turn away and close the door but it is already too late. (maybe it's been too late for a long time.) delight can't stop himself -- here is alarian's neck, here is alarian's throat, here is alarian's cheek and his shoulder, mapping fragmented soft spots.

"shh," embarrassed comes the whisper, unable to handle too much praise before he will completely come undone and fall apart, a pile of loose thread for alarian to pick through. and then, because of course he has never not known when to shut up and feel, "i mean, thank you, it's just, it's a lot right now, but you're beautiful too, you know, or umhandsome if you prefer, a-alarian," and the name comes in a hitched breath as they press closer, heat rising throughout his body -- he has not been this close to another man in some time but oh his body remembers and knows better than he ever could for himself. "alarian," he sighs again, craning to nibble at his ear, "what do..." you want, he doesn't finish, distracted by trying to commit to memory the exact way his ear feels under his mouth, of all things.