It feels like fireworks exploding across every inch of his skin and Lucas involuntarily runs his fingers over Bash's arms, up to his shoulders, in surprise - resting his hands, light and shaking, there when they arrive. This is...acceptable. Wait, correction: more than acceptable - great, preferable, a desired outcome, something to do more often in the future.

"No, it's fine," Lucas says, expression serious. He doesn't even realize he's bending down when he does it. "I'm just so glad you're okay." That last bit comes out rushed, clipped at the end - caught - because Lucas is slipping his hands up into Bash's hair, pulling him closer, and urgently pressing a kiss to his lips.