Lucas' skin prickles, hot and cold shooting through him like cracks in thin ice. He wriggles from the light touch of Bash's fingers in his hair, free hand drifting up and then back down, because he doesn't know what to do with it, but he'd really like to put it somewhere - preferably on Bash. He settles on the back of Bash's neck, thumb pressed just beneath his ear, to coax him gently upward. Lucas tilts his head, having a go at deepening the kiss.

It makes him feel drunk, head muddy, everything but the two of them gone blurry. And when he breaks the kiss, it takes him a few seconds to find his breath. "I don't think you'll have to worry about that hermit thing, now." Lucas mumbles, gaze fixed on Bash, pupils dilated.