[He counters with another tired laugh that slowly crumbles under its own weight, sagging like his shoulders in the privacy of Rafe's work tent. So allowed this minor vulnerability it's nice to not have to worry about the kind of impressions he makes on everyone else in camp, when the only person whose opinion matters here is standing in front of him.
Still.]
I...
[It's a beginning that dies before it comes to fruition, and even feeling worn to a weary nub he is overly conscious of the way that Rafe's fingertips linger on his coat, the way he hasn't stepped back to offer a modicum of space. The way he's making it apparent that he's holding on for something else entirely. Confused, Nate furrows his brow and has to pull away from eye contact deferentially, gaze shifting to Rafe's collar.
When he speaks it is careful, tentative, and wary of being presumptuous. Nate has never been exceptionally talented at recognizing when people are coming onto him.]
no subject
Still.]
I...
[It's a beginning that dies before it comes to fruition, and even feeling worn to a weary nub he is overly conscious of the way that Rafe's fingertips linger on his coat, the way he hasn't stepped back to offer a modicum of space. The way he's making it apparent that he's holding on for something else entirely. Confused, Nate furrows his brow and has to pull away from eye contact deferentially, gaze shifting to Rafe's collar.
When he speaks it is careful, tentative, and wary of being presumptuous. Nate has never been exceptionally talented at recognizing when people are coming onto him.]
...are you hitting on me?