"Oh God, don't do thaaatt..." he whines when Kyle strokes his cheek. His skin feels like it's burning with heat compared to Kyle's touch and even when Quentin can't bring himself to make eye contact, he can feel the way Kyle's looking at him. It's so gentle and so optimistic and so damn forgiving he has no idea how people survive having such earnest conversations as this one.

Vulnerability is the word Kyle so aptly chooses and just so hear that truth laid bare makes him sort of want to de-animate himself again. Failing that, he squeezes his eyes shut a moment. As if he can shake it all off like an ice cream headache.

"I don't hide it. I just don't have a lot of it..." he mumbles. It's not true. It's not even a great rationalization. But sometimes he just says things in the hope it comes out convincingly. Win some, lose some.

He's grateful for that kiss though and it's apparent in the way he kisses back, clinging to Kyle in a way that's a little needy, but just slightly shy of demanding about it. Grateful because it feels like a promise that Kyle hasn't been chased off by this admission, and because if they're kissing he doesn't have to die of humiliation hearing Kyle talk more about his vulnerability. It's a small mercy really.

"I love you too," he says eventually. "Not, just because you can stand me. But you know. It helps."