Kellen felt loved. He felt cherished. He felt taken care of.
Rhys had attacked him after that, tickling him until Kellen was howling with laughter and then kissing him deep enough that Kellen could tell he was trying to swallow the laughter into him, absorbing it for when Kellen was in the gate. It was a bittersweet taste, the reminder that they potentially only had hours, not days remaining together.
Kellen refused to look at this negatively, and now it seemed that Rhys, even if he was faking it, was doing the same.
Rhys had changed their positions, moving them to the couch so that they could sit comfortably beside each other instead of the awkward toddler-esque situation that they had been in before. All the plates were spread out on the coffee table and on parts of the couch that they weren't sitting on. Kellen was wrapped around Rhys, his legs across his lap and his back cradled by Rhys' hand. It was intimate, but felt perfect for what Kellen and Rhys needed.
