When Rhy hooks his arm around his waist, Wilhelm slides his hands up his chest to grab onto his jacket collar. And when he slips his tongue into his mouth, Wilhelm obliges with lips parting. With their bodies crushed together, there's no space to think about anything else. The whispers have finally shut the fuck up; they're replaced with the wordless murmur of mouths moving together, breath rising and sinking in sighs.

It's not like it all just washes away, all the things weighing on his heart and wakening him in the middle of the night — all of him suddenly renewed. But the surge of arousal spinning his head offers temporary absolution. He can make himself out of just the pieces he likes. He can do what he wants.

After a prolonged moment of...getting better acquainted with each other, Wilhelm pulls out of the kiss, but only to slide his lips down the curve of Rhy's neck. Pressing his nose into the warm brown skin there, he laughs softly to himself as if in disbelief.

"You're so beautiful it's unfair," he breathes.

He hadn't planned on saying it; it just falls out on a sigh. Maybe he just felt that he's supposed to say something in all of this.